The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-06-30


officers overcoats folded smoothly for
pillows. There was rough pantry
with shelves, holding rations, odd
crockery and cutlery "jerked from the
secesh,' homemade rickety table, a
bit of looking-glass sundry pals and
complexities, a three-legged iron
skillet, and drop-light, extemporized
from the handle of broken bayonet,
and a candle, the whole suspended
from the ridge-pole by wire.
We had lively time in the "she-
bang" that evening. 1t was packed
with the boys, all eager to hear from
home, who put me through course of
catechism concerning matters and per-
sons in whom they were interested,
that soon exhausted my stock of in
formation, and left me no resource but
to draw on imagination. The tide of
talk flowed over the night into the
morning. The "tatoo" had been
beaten for retiring, and still the boys
were loath to go. At last 1 broke up
the conference. But before withdraw
ing George Throop, one of the young
men, drew from his breast pocket
copy of the New Testament.
"You know" he said when our
pastor took public leave of us In church,
he gave each Testament, and made
us promise to read it, if possible, daily,
while we were away. We haven't fail
ed but once or twice, and then we
were on forced march. One reads
aloud and the Others listen; and if you
are willing, we will read here to-
night"
All heads were instantly uncovered,
all hum of voices ceased, and portion
of the fifteenth chapter of Luke's Cos
pei was read, when Sergeant Dyer, a
very noble man belonging to Baptist
church of Chicago, voluntarily offered
brief and appropriate prayer. Alas !
never saw again the young lieutenant
who officiated as Bible reader, nor the
sergeant who offered prayer. Both are
sleeping under the sod on the banks of
the Red River, where they fell in
battle. One, the young, brave, and
handsome lieutenant, was shot from
his horse as he was urging his men on
to the fight; and the other, the fatherly
sergeant, was shot through the heart
as he was spiking his gun, before join
ing in the retreat which was sounded.
1 had wakeful night. 1t was my
first attempt to sleep in camp, and L
did better afterward when 1 became
used to it. I was in the enemy's
country, 1 heard the steady football of
the guard past my tent, and the in
cessant booming Of the great guns at
Vicksburg, fifteen miles away. had
lived in an atmosphere of suffering
ever since left home; and all the Wis
ions of horror I had witnessed now
danced about my sleepless pillow.
Long before the drums beat the re-
veille, or the myriad birds, had finished
their mathis, had made my additions
in the three-legged iron skillet given
me for that purpose, and completed
my toilet before the little six-by ZEN
inch looking glass. I hurried out at
oll-call, and offered to assist in getting
breakfast.
But was not allowed this gratifica-
ton of my feminine desire, for the
boys confessed that "they didn't do
things woman fashion" and that had
better remain ignorant of their modus
operandi. 1.-THE victuals would taste
better if didn't see the cookingI"
thought SO too, after 1 got a glimpse of
them making bread in the iron skillet
in which l had bathed my face and
hands. For breakfast we had hot bis
cult baked in ovens made of Louisiana
mud; fried ham; good coffee, to which
1 added condensed milk and white
sugar; potatoes and pickles. Camp
life gave me good appetite, and /
honored the cetisine of the boys by eat
ing heartily. They challenged adm ira
ton of their ingenious housekeeping
and l gratified them by praising them
I'D libitum.