each demonstration drawing forth ringing response from the
joyous soldier boys. At Henryville an entire school of young ladies
turned out to welcome the "extra" train with soldiers, the building
being draped with a large flag. At Seymour a great arch had been erected
over the railway on which was inscribed "Welcome Home, Brave Soldiers."

Night soon overtook us now. It was 10 P. M. when we arrived, sleepy and
well shaken, at Indianapolis, of which we knew no more than to hastily
jump into another string of dirty box cars, and rush on through broken
slumbers to Kokomo Junction, where we arrived 5 A. M. Are now waiting
for an engine down from Chicago to take us up.

Soldiers' Rest, Chicago, Monday, July 3. We left Kokomo 8 A. M. and had
a very pleasant ride through a beautiful country teeming with good
crops, etc. The same cordial welcome shown as yesterday. Reached this
place 5 P. M. last evening and marched through crowds of inhabitants out
to see "the boys coming home", with a bright new flag proudly floating
in the breeze, to the Soldiers' Rest where we were furnished a splendid
supper by the fair ones of Chicago. Slept where we might. I rested on
depot platform. Have had another good breakfast, and am impatiently
waiting 9 A. M. when the train leaves for Madison, Wisconsin. Captain
Simpson has telegraphed for permission to let the boys go home and spend
the Fourth.

HOME AT LAST

[Sidenote: 1865 Home]

After almost three years' absence, I found my valley home at dusk on the
third of July, 1865. And what a happy union it was. Father, mother,
sisters and brothers, all together. The circle unbroken during the
terrible three years that had rolled over us since I parted to try my
fate in a soldiers' camp. The bitter tears of anguish then, were
replaced by those of unbounded joy. All the hardships and privations of
my campaign were amply repaid at this joyful union.

But three years had brought a change here as well as upon me. The locks
of my aged father were considerably whiter than when I left. Mother I
was rejoiced to find looking so well. That frail casket which I feared
so much could never see this happy day on earth, has retained its
vitality to a wonderful extent. Thomas, John, Margaret, Mary, Hannah and
Ellen were the same in appearance as when I left, but Jane had grown
from a school girl to the full proportions of a woman, and I scarcely
could recognize her. The little boys are grown and much cha