will find that a walk of
nine miles" (the distance to my father's) "will be a great weariness to
the flesh on this warm day." But I considered it a mere pleasure walk,
and was determined to go, so he finally concluded to do likewise. I
left my valise in the care of a Jerseyville merchant, and with no
baggage except my sword and belt, we proceeded to "hit the dirt." I
took off my coat, slung it over one shoulder, unsnapped my sword, with
the scabbard, from the belt, and shouldered it also. Our walk was a
pleasant and most agreeable one, as we had much to talk about that was
interesting to both. When we arrived at the mouth of the lane that led
to the house of the Chaplain's friend, we shook hands and I bade him
good-by, but fully expected to meet him many times later. But our paths
in life diverged,--and I never saw him again.

I arrived at the little village of Otterville about sundown. It was a
very small place in 1865. There was just one store, (which also
contained the post-office,) a blacksmith shop, the old "Stone school
house," a church, and perhaps a dozen or so private dwellings. There
were no sidewalks, and I stalked up the middle of the one street the
town afforded, with my sword poised on my shoulder, musket fashion, and
feeling happy and proud. I looked eagerly around as I passed along,
hoping to see some old friend. As I went by the store, a man who was
seated therein on the counter leaned forward and looked at me, but said
nothing. A little further up the street a big dog sprang off the porch
of a house, ran out to the little gate in front, and standing on his
hind legs with his fore paws on the palings, barked at me loudly and
persistently,--but I attracted no further attention. Many of the
regiments that were mustered out soon after the close of the war
received at home gorgeous receptions. They marched under triumphal
arches, decorated with flags and garlands of flowers, while brass bands
blared, and thousands of people cheered, and gave them a most
enthusiastic "Welcome Home!" But the poor old 61st Illinois was among
the late arrivals. The discharged soldiers were now numerous and
common, and no longer a novelty. Personally I didn't care, rather
really preferred to come back home modestly and quietly, and without
any "fuss and feathers" whatever. Still, I would have felt better to
have met at least one person as I passed through the little village who
would have given me a hearty hand-shake, and said