el that I can scarcely write. There is such a
heaviness upon my heart. When I saw the crowd at the telegraph
office this morning while on my way to church, and heard that they
were expecting news of a great battle on the Rappahannock, such a
feeling of helplessness, sinking of the heart, and dizziness came
over me, that I almost fell upon the pavement. The great battle
that all expect so eagerly, may mean our dear little children
fatherless and myself a widow. Oh, George, I feel so sad and
lonely, and then every footstep I hear at the door I am afraid some
one is coming with bad news. Your last letter, too, I do not like.
I am afraid that more is the matter with you than you are willing
to admit. You promised me, too, that you would apply for a
furlough. Lieut. H---- has been twice at home since he went out.
You know he is in Sickles' Division.

Our precious little boys keep asking continually when papa will
come home. Little Georgie says he is a "du-du," you know that is
what he calls a soldier, and he gets the old sword you had in the
three months' service, and struts up and down at a great rate. They
can both say the Lord's prayer now, and every night when they get
through with it, they ask God to bless papa and mamma, and all the
Union "du-dus." I do wish that you could see them in their little
"Gadibaldis," as Harry calls them. When I see Mr. B----and others
take their evening walks with their children, just as you used to
do with Georgie, it takes all the grace and all the patriotism I
can muster to keep from murmuring.

Mr. G---- says that we need not trouble about the rent this
quarter, that he will wait until you are paid. The neighbors, too,
are very kind to me, and I have been kept so busy with work from
the shops, that I have made enough to pay all our little expenses.
But for all, George, I cannot help wishing every minute of the day
that "this cruel war was over" and you safe back. At a little
sewing party that we had the other day, Em D---- sang that old song
"When wild war's deadly blast was blown," that you used to read to
me so often, and when I heard of "sweet babes being fatherless,"
and "widows mourning," I burst into tears. I do not know why it is,
but I feel as if expecting bad news continually. Our little boys
say "don