hey should have left out that piece of music. It did no good, and
its effect was very depressing, especially on the sick. Under such
circumstances, it would seem that common sense, if exercised, would
have dictated the keeping dumb of such saddening funeral strains.

Sometime during the latter part of June the regiment was paid two
months' pay by Major C. L. Bernay, a Paymaster of the U.S. Army. He
was a fine old German, of remarkably kind and benevolent appearance,
and looked more like a venerable Catholic priest than a military man.
After he had paid off the regiment, his escort loaded his money chest
and his personal stuff into an ambulance, and he was soon ready to go
to some other regiment. Several of our officers had assembled to bid
him good-by, and I happened to be passing along, and witnessed what
transpired. The few farewell remarks of the old man were punctuated by
the roar of the big guns of our army and navy pounding away at
Vicksburg, and the incident impressed me as somewhat pathetic.
"Goot-by, Colonel," said Major Bernay, extending his hand; (Boom!)
"Goot-by Major;" (Boom!) "Goot-by, Captain;" (Boom!) and so on, to the
others. Then, with a wave of his hand to all the little group,
"Goot-by, shentlemens, all." (Boom!) "Maybe so (Boom!) we meet not
again." (Boom, boom, boom!) It was quite apparent that he was thinking
of the so-called "fortunes of war." Then he sprang into his ambulance,
and drove away. His prediction proved true--we never met again.

The morning of the Fourth of July opened serene and peaceful, more so,
in fact, than in old times at home, for with us not even the popping of
a fire-cracker was heard. And the stillness south of us continued as
the day wore on,--the big guns of the army and navy remained absolutely
quiet. Our first thought was that because the day was a national
holiday, Grant had ordered a cessation of the firing in order to give
his soldiers a day of needed rest. It was not until some time in the
afternoon that a rumor began to circulate among the common soldiers
that Vicksburg had surrendered, and about sundown we learned that such
was the fact. So far as I saw or heard, we indulged in no whooping or
yelling over the event. We had been confident, all the time, that the
thing would finally happen, so we were not taken by surprise. There was
a feeling of satisfaction and relief that the end had come, but we took
it coolly and as a matter of course.

On the same day that V