- rAS. LOWuilJ«iTfe. JP. WIESOJr, AITOBNEYB * Cfi’jNSgLLOflS AX LAW, will attend tho Ccurti ,f. Xioga, Potter and McKean fcnanties. g. lSdß.] - fllCKlTfidt HOCSJE boSIf- T. MiJ. A. Field, . ...Ll ••!•••• Proprietor Guests taken to and fbnjt'thji Depot free of charge. ' j.; ’ ; ATTOKSET cbIfNSELLOIV AT I/AW Wellsboto,: Tiog? Co.j. I’a. Will dev.otohis Ume exclusively to thSepraetice of law. Collectipns made in any of tHo ffottbern counties of Pennsyl yania. . '■/'[ ;H ; .■ n0y21,60 l»E’\]\S\l.V tNJIA HOUSE. Corner o£ Masa Sfreet'avß] the Avenue, VAellshoro t Ea. . i ,J. W'. lilGOSti PP.OPKIETOR. . ro-fitted re ftnniahed through out,as -to the public as a first-class house. IZAIK WAtioS HOUSE, ; B ,C. VERMIS'PROPRIETOR. ■ Gaines, Tlog-iConnty, Pa. THISSs anew hotelslocated within easy access'o tho best fishm-and'kintiUg grounds in Northern ,pa. No pains will & tipif^iT o ? > he accommodation if pleasure seek?™ fu<3 the traveling public. April 12..1860. f '■■■ ", | ’. G. C. SMtdPELE, ' ’• HAUSER S' HOP in the rear of llfisfogt Office. Every thing'in his hno will bo do|d»ajll Veil and promptly as.it -can be done in the ally ‘ealohnA ■ Preparations forre . moving, dan draff, and hgatttifying the hair, for sale cheap, flair and whiskers dyjd any color. Call and gee. Wellsborp, p». > ‘ HAiftaffslllOTßE. THOMAS G&ifl- Proprietor. [Formerly oJ^i'ieWiingtoii,Ho{eU) . THIS Hotel, ko> by David Hart, is being gnew. The subscriber has leai-ed «Ma|crm of years, where he mayhefeundready t&fgsilhipon his old customers and tho traveling puhlfq^n|rany % Ills table will be provided with the b,e?f iha|morket affords. At his •bar may he fouhd the polecat brands of liquors and cigars, 'I . ?JI 11 ‘ I Wellsboro^Jan. 21 .• ■ WELLSBjojltjdji HOTEL. B. B. HOLLIDAYsj . -Proprietor. rpHE Proprietor bp.v’ipg igiin taken possession of I the above Uotej, fvMifpiiro no pains to insure ihe comfort of guest* litjd tfcf' toweling pbblio. At tentive.wniters alfeajs reaßy./;,. Terms reasonable. Wcllsbofo, Janj2h, • - . J JR., ATTORNEY AT LAW, ■ KXOXVILLB, PA. - Prompt attention #gifen i&l.the .procuring of Pen sions, Back Pay of «&c. . Jau.'T, 18Go.-Cm*X f> \ ■ \ ,• . fcW - Q. w. fe CO’S. SANK, GOBj]SCiNjj|4 N.'y. 5 . (Located iff Iran House.), American Gold torn bought&nd sold, *IS T ew York .i‘ 'do. Uncurrent Jloney^' l |j «r ' do. United States “ old issue” bought.- Collections made in of thq Union ,at Cur rent rates of Exchange, ,’f % Particular will be tnldim to accommodate our patrons Erointhe Tioga VE&eJr.,. Our Office . Kill be open at 7 A. M., ami P, HI., giving parties passing over Tioga Road ample time to transact their business before the departure of tho ‘ -nd) ’ HAYINtr with a legal firm in Washington, b£ i posges|es first rate facilities for tho prosecution, of fir Pensions, Back-Pay, Bounty, and'all oth-er/ against tho Gov ernment. All such claimajyritfl he attended to with promptness and fidelity, Ind[. ‘ r no charges” will be made unless Muldlelmry Centre,lS62.-3rn. ■ .JOHSM'-MANr*, A TXORXEY £TbqS|ELU)R AT LAAV, CoiiiTersport, ajten’d the several Courts in Potter and McKf up .All business dis trusted to bis care w|il reeoivje prompt attention. He'j has the agency of laif-je trab«[ of good afld will attend to tb< payjuost of taxes on-any lands in said counties. £ . * ! Cofidersport, Jan-. / wool. ASD C L'O T H teE S S , 'm THE AT Wfelisboroug|*.|sp|a County, Pa. rrUIE subscriber hi* sing«t|ttl op the place for the I purpose of'Wos }Cattlir||jf and Cloth Dressing, and also would ipfoif rtheEptyplo that wc will take wool to manufacture^|n' sakrtaor by the yard, to suit cu=tomers, and people that we can card wool at any titf j-hasij'oflx works run by steam power, and also wqolijwill bo carded for four cents-per pound. produce will bo taken for pay for the saipo. . jfi/lj* N. B. v Prompt atte *&ori|wUl be paid to all favoring us. Wo will give go id’safe&ctio.u. • - CHARLES LEE, . ‘ JOHN LEE.> _ ' ’ 8150 1 ' BESY'T£IAXbs. • 150 JOS. P. DALE’i vCO.Jii»Tiog‘romoved to their new warerooms, [ i ,jf Nor 4|I;4SB|)APWAV. aje now prepared t£> yfle# tlie public a magnificent new.scale full • .* J/.J Welisboro, Jun<| I • 7. OCTAVE' OOD PIANO, containing in this country or Europe, ovor-slrter#', niss,' Erench grand action; baty pedul ; full f>Vr t $l5O & CASH, S Years/ moulding casds, 1 5200;.-S2fiJ& i .B3oo, all warranted mu4e of seasoned material, and to stand better tljan auv for $-100 or $6OO by the old methods of mlanufad jibe/ "We invite’ ' DEAEEESTEACHERS' . in all parts of thd act as agents, and to. tost those unrivalled Sleinvay & Sons, Chickerißg'ib Sous, dr manufacturers.. Jos) R S CO., 47§ BROAD&& SEW VORK. ,~,oct. 22. ISCS.'-4mjjf -f HO^tfes , A KEW .STOV® Hsfcl just been opeiyd Ti T| , Be found a good asVfifcpint Box Stoves, ot the QKpt?a|)pa the beat ‘A'fr . miltod to bo the j&v C iharket,, The .c . 11 Q OLDEN Jif (xl . \ are square, flat top i with many advantagfiftjvej iflade, * Parlor Stov^sT^ho*: both very'peat Abo Tin, CopperjMsritrfehb: hand and $ rial and workmanstffafpcfl the lowest figure fcgf.s*|fhlorPi Job, work Of afl"£« s Mil Xroga, Jaii. ll'fli. f,'\}. ■ PENl^lf^GtiNCy. mHp ol ‘? lßfi^A i ‘ :, x > r HBIR FE IENDS. '1 uIE undersigned considerable expo n!" P ru «?r|Sg ifeujiiim Bounties and Bock '“f ?,? ?" T-‘ "‘““‘‘Mbusiness in that line ostod to his :oioptneSß and fidelity. or alu ODS Wl!h J n ? to too will plonse call d dress mo by IcttcrgtjStivama.Bradfdrd County, r % <*"£« reasouab cj: GEO. P, MONROE, by permissf Vtif i I p:SroJ^:- ! # er '> ell£boro ' Pa . ! "‘mf ■ • - ..v- ■ iTHE AGITATOR. It had been the day for drafting in a little town id the hill-country of Connecticut. It was night-fall now, and a man walked slowly home to the wife who watched and waited for him. He was a tall, handsome fellow—thirty five, perhaps ; vigorous of limb, strong of mus cle,' with kindly yet earnest eyes, well cut fea tures, anijj an expression of fearless integrity. You would have triown him at once for what ho was—a good, unselfish, courageous-, honest man. worthy of winning, capable of holding a woman’s love. She who listened for his coming heard the slow step upon the gravel, and sprang from the door to meet him. You could see, even in that dim light, what a bright, cheery, pret ty woman she was; with'her loving eyes; her dark, satin-smooth hair ; her red, tender lips ; and' the fresh roses on her cheeks. She went up to her husband and pother hands on his arm lovingly. “ I know you have bad news for mo, John!” “Yes, Mary; 1 must go. I was tho third one drafted.’.’ The wife felt her limbs shake, and she tho’t at first that she could not stand. All the forces of her nature seemed giving away, but she ral lied bravely. For his sake she would be calm and strong; but she could not.apeak just then. She led him iota the house, where their child ren were—five of them ; the eldest only ten in the July just gone. There was something in their father’s manner which checked the noisy demonstrations with which they were wont to greet him, and they only gave him a few silent kisses as he sat down in the groat chair by the west window, Ho buried his face in his hands fur a while, and then he lifted it and looked round on the little group of bis loved ones.— 'Three girls and two boys, and hia wife, their motherj-looking, in spite of years of care, as fair, almost "as young, as the day he brought her home his new-made bride. His chest heaved with a long and bitter sigh—a sort of sob of despair, rather—and then he said, as-if -ho feared even she, his other self, might mis understand him: “God knows, it is. not Tot my own sake, Mary! Ido not think lam afraid to die. 1 would go with more than willingness, with joy, if-1 had not so much to leave. If 1 fall, what will become of you and the children ? I can not hear to think of what you might suffer, with no one to stand between you and the cares and sorrows of the world. Mary, this drafting indiscriminately does not seem, just. 8 Surely the single men ought to go first.” ' His wife stole her hand into his very gently. “Do not think of us,” she said, with a true woman’s self-forgetfulness. “It is not that. We should do well enough. You need not fear that we should come to want. But oh ! John—” And just there she broke down ut terly, and cried out, with a buret of passionate tears, " No, I can not bear it! You will die ! I shall never, never see .'your face again 1 If 1 could know that you would come hack, even were it maimed and-helpless, I would not mur mur, but to tbiok that you might die there, and I could not help you—that your eyes would seek mine, your hands grope for mine, and I not he there—oh 1 John, I shall go mad with hopeless horror !” It was his turn to be the comforter now. He drew her into the shelter.of his arms ;be res ted her poor head on bis breast; he whispered tenderly: “AH who fight do not die, Mary. God watches over us there as well as here. Some women’s husbands must go, poor child U Something may happen yet that I shall not have to go.” He knew, however, no solitary chance under the wide heavens by which he could escape. The words with him were but the vaguest! ut terance of soothing; but she caught at them eagerly. “ You could procure a substitute,'perhaps— is that what you mean ?” “ I would if'l could,” he answered, evasive ly remembering in his own mind the difficulty far richer men than ho had experienced in pro curing them in those quiet, thinly-peopled, agricultural towns. “ I am very tired, Mary; can you give me some tea?” Cheered a little by her new hope, and nnx ous, above all, to cheer him and make him comfortable, the wife got up and went into the kitchen. The biscuit for supper were-olready made, and in a few minutes tea was upon the table. John Morgan drank cup after cup of it,»with an eager, feverish thirst, but eating with him was a mere feint. When the meal was over the children were put to bed, all but the two, oldest girls. They stole out to the open door, and sat down in the September moonlight, their arms round each other—feel ing, with a sort of dumb pain, that a shadow which they could not resist' had fallen npoh the household. Their mother, meantime, had lighted her lamp and taken her work—a child’A EAD. D TIN SHOP HAS I P.enna,, where may v‘of Cooking, Parlor and joved patterns, and from I lIOMESTEAIJ is ad sled Oven Stove the > GOOD HOPE” stoves, with targe ovens, any other stove before Signet and Caspion cte stoves. H Iron ware, kept con order of the best male which will be sold at jready. pay. pded to on call. lEKSSEY <t SM.EAD, 2Jebote3r to tfte SgjrtenffCort of tf)t anea of iFmbont awh tfjc SprcaO of ©ealt&p meform. WHILE THERE SHALL BE A WRONG UNRIGHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN'S INHUMANITY TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE. TOIi. IX. Select soett|?. BEFORE THE. RAIN, BT T, B. ALDRICH. Wo knew it would rain, for aU the morn A spirit On slender ropes pT mist Was lowering its golden bucket? down Into the vapory amethyst *. Of marshes and swamps and dismal fens— Scooping the dew 1 that lay in the flowers, Dipping the Jewels out of the sea To sprinkle them over the land m showers. We knew it would rain, for the poplar? showed The white of tbeinleaves, the amber grain Shrunk in the wind—and the lightning sow Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain! 7 ‘ ' ■' ■ . . AFTER-THE RAIN. The rain bad ceased, and in my room' The sunshine poors an airy flood, - And on the church’? dizzy vane Tbe'.ancient Cross is bathed in blood. Prom out tho dripping ivy-leaves, Antiqaoly-carvcd, gray and high, A dormer, facing westward, looks Upon tho village like an eye.' And now it glimmers in the snn, A globe of gold, a disc, a speck Andjn the belfry sits a dovo - ' With purple ripples on her neck. Select Slots. JOHM MOEGAIT'S SUBSTITUTE WELISBORO, TIOGA COUNTY. PA., WEDNESDAY MORIOTG,, MARCH f 11, 1863. frock , which she was finishing—to the little, round stand. She would not let this evening seem more unlike other evenings than she could help. ... Soon there came a footstep up the gravel walk ; this time a quick, firm tread. The girls in the door made ..way.fqr the new-comer to enter, and he came in and stood silently for a moment in the centre of the little sitting-room. He was a slender, elegantly-moulded man.— You could see at a glance that the fire of his manhood had never yet been tested by any tough, struggle with fate. Yet one would not bavk doubted his untried courage. It shone in his (steadybias' eyes,, sad with -ou- unspoken paid j i£.betrayed itself |n the cnr! of his lip, the loorvo of his nostril. They say no soldiers ever fought moro bravely than the gentry of England—white ofhqnd, haughty'of look, del icate of feafnre. Some such blood Sowed in the veins of Ash Thoruycroft. Ho was the only son bf the rich mill-ownor whoso foreman John Morgan was. lie was no stranger at the little cottage; and even in this sorrowful hour there wasjno danger of bis. being unwelcome. He was|the first to speak." “ pit is hard on you, Morgan, this draft. My fatber was saying to-night that he did not know howj he should contrive, to spare you. Sowell as you’re doing now, too—already comfort and competence for you -and yours, and better things in prospect.” “ It’s useless talking. I think I was not born under a lucky star. You were! Mr. Tborny croft’s son, to begin with ; young, rich, with out a tie to fetter you; and of course the draft spares you.” “Without a tie! Do you call that happi ness;?” John Morganls eyes fell beneath that sad, .steady gaze of reproach. He remembered then one who had died in March, on whose grave the lonesome spring rains had wept tears which sprang up again in roses and violets—the gen tle girl whom Ash Thornycroft had loved so long and well. . “ Forgive me,” he said, in a low, penitent tone. The other went on: - “ I think you forget yourself a little when you repine at this stroke as if it were the worst thing which, could have happened. Would yo» give up your wife, or one of your children, eveni to escape from the perils of this war ?’f “ Did you think I was a coward ?” nnd the honest soul looked indignantly out of John Morgan’s eyes. “It was not for myself I feared, but for them. If I were to fall what would they do ? I have struggled to shield them so far as I could from toil, or care, or privation. How are they fitted to tread the world's rough paths, alone ?” “ No, I did not take you for a coward. Jf 1 had i I should not have thought your life worth saving. I think I know how I should feel in your place. It is a place in which I shall never stand, lam going to enlist, John; It is;my duty, for I have nothing to keep me at home. lam ready to give alPthat I have to my country. If I fall I shall only go the sooner where all my longings tend. What is to hinder my sparing you to your happy fire side? I came to propose myself as your sub stitute.” * “ it is not, are you sure it is no.t, to spare me ?, Would you' go in any case f” John Morgan asked with a Httle doubt in'bis voice. “ Do not fear that; I am going for your sake. I made up my mindas soon as the. call came for the volunteers. I only waited for this very thing—the chance, if I should not be drafted myself, of saving some inan who % as, to the woman who loved him. lam glad it is you, John, my good old friend, to whom I can ren der this service.” 11 John Morgan was. a man of few words, of feeliings which lay so deep that they seldom rose, to the surface; but there was something which Ash Thornycroft needed no language to interpret in the look of his eyes, andYhe grasp of his hand, as he hurried out of the room. Thornycroft was one of those men with a vein of tenderness in the midst of their strength which always allies them more nearly to women than, to men. Left alone with Mrs. Morgan, he said wb’iit ho never would have said to her husband; It was when she thanked him, with earnest words, and sobs and tears of joy yet more eloquent. “ There was one, Mrs. Morgan, who loved mo as well as you love John. You do uot heed to thank me. All that I over could do for any other woman I would do for her sake. You have seen her: you know how fair and sweet she was ; bull think no one save me knows all her purity, her saint-like goodness. I have had only one hope since she died, that I might he fit'to go to her. "If I die in this good cause, think of me as happy with an unspeakable hap piness. It will but bo opening the golden gates the sooner. I shall hot see you again, so 1 will bid you good-bye now." Her tears fell upon his hand, her lips touched it. She whispered brokenly her blessing, the blessing of one who owed to him more than her own life; and so, annointed for his work, as it; were, by those holy tears and'prayers, he went away. The girls at’ the door saw his face in, the moonlight, while yetradiaut and fender. They ran in to their mother asking their 1 childish questions— “ What made Mr. Thornycroft; look so ? What was he here for ?" “(Father is hot going away; Mr. Thorny crofb is going iu his stead. We shall keep fa ther! at home.” And then woman-like, she fell to hugging them and crying over them; and just then John came back, and took the three all together in his strong arms. , It was one of the supreme moments of life which, whether of joy or grief, picture them selves to our minds and need no description. Ash Thornycroft walked away with a firm tread. He turned aside when ,ha came to the cbujch, with tbe old burying-ground in its rear, full,of grass-grown mounds., He went in there and knelt beside a grave on whose bead-stone tbe name of Constance Ireton gleamed white nndtclearly out in the moonlight. “Oh/my darling, my darling!” he cried, with bis lips pressed to the sod. If the dead could hear, that still heart beneath should hare throbbed again to tbe accents of such love.—' Many a night had he talked; to her there, os now r with a strange sense of nearness—a full belief in the communion of their souls. “You are not here, Iknow; and yet I know you hear me. lam going away to-morrow, God’s soldier and yonrs. Give me your bless ing, Constance, and pray for me; you who have already seen the Father’s face, that I may do my work without faltering, and tho end may come soon." I It was but a dream of his own overwrought fancy; hnthe seemed to see a cloud draw near, from which a face looked—a white sweet face, sad with waiting,, yet glorified' with immor tal hope.. flo seemed to hepr a voice, which said,, i' “Go forth; my beloved, arid do .your work. Soon will the struggle be over, and the reword is long and sure.” j ' For an instant he eeemedjto see'the smile upon her face, the look of faithful love in the immortal eyes. Then when he stretched out hfs arms toward it, the cloud seemed to melt into the white moonlight; not even an echo of the voice thrilled the September air—he was alone >yith the night. He went, away next day to join his regiment, one of which had already, seen hard service. There Whs in him the metal Jof a true soldier. His day might be short—he would be’ busy while it lasted. Besides, I think be liked his grim work. He was always |to be found among the volunteers for any desperate service. In jnany a fierce charge he led: the van, with his bright fair hair glittering gplilenly in the sun light, and n blue gllst in his eyes. He was never wounded. Nothing happened to disable him from his duty. He bad refused well-earned promotion, and once, when a true comrade who inarched always at his side, had asked him the reason why, he answered, j “ Because ! shall be here so little while.” “I thought you volunteered for three years. I had heard that you came in place of a nine mouths man, but that you chose to enlist for the longer time and join aniold regiment." There was no answer tojthe inquiring tone which made a question of this remark, and Steven Chase, who understood his comrade too well to press the point, was ks much puzzled as ever. • j :Ho comprehended it all better the night be fore Fredericksburg. They sat together on a stone a little way from their tent. For a while both had beep'thinking silently of what the dawning was to bring. > “It will be a tough fight,” Chase said, at lofigth. 1 - ‘•You may well say so,” Ash Thoruycroft answered. “It is a terrible responsibility to assume, that of leading men to such certain destruction ; and yet, if we can hut win the victory 1 There is hardly a man but would be willing to sell Ins life for that. It is the only regret I have in going in, that .1 shall never know which side conquers. “ Nonsense, man, don’t get blue after seeing as much blood spilt as you have, arid coming but of so many hard bouts scathless!” “It was not my time hitherto.* It is now. I have had my call. But I’m not blue,-never fear. I shall go.into that;fight more joyfully than ever tired child went home. I have only one wish. If you pull through alive take care of my body. 1 want to be buried at-home, be side a grave that was made last March, in the Westville church-yard. You pinst send me to my father —David Thoruycroft,- ’Westville, Con necticut. Here it is written drown for you. Papers that I left at home explaining my wishes will bo sufficient fob the rest.” His manner carried conviction with it, con viction at least of his own faith in his forwarn-' ing, but Steven Chase tried to shako it off. “ I never knew a presentiment to come true in my life,” he Said, sturdily, “ Yon will talk over the battle *with me! twenty-four'hours from now.” , Thornycroft only smiled, as he said, “ Do you promise- what I asked, Steven Z Will you send .my body (o my father if it is within your power to protect it ?" “ Yes: for your satisfaction I promise, I shall not bid you good-bye, though.” They were toiling Up the bill, that fatal af ternoon of tho next day,- side by side, when suddenly Thornycroft looked round with kind ling eyes to his comrade. iHe stretched out his hand with a smile which:the other will never forget if be lives till his hair is white. “ Good-bye, Steven!” ' The nej:t instant he fell heavily. A rebel shot bad given him his mortal wound. With exertions which (would seem half in credible if 1 should relate them, Steven Chase succeeded iu getting him off the field. lie was not dead, and a hope still lurked in his true comrade’s heart that he might yet live to tell at homo the story of the war. He did not speak or move, but faithful Steven could feel the faint beating of bis heart; lie did not die till after the troops had gone back across the Rappahannock, lie belonged to a division which went into the fight six thousand strong, and went hack at night with only fifteen hundred. lie lay there with the wounded round him—the thin ranks out of 1 which so mauy brave feet had marched for ever. Just at dawning hd looked up, and met : his friend’s eyes. He fattered,. feebly, • “A defeat, Steven! I lived to know—vic tims, not conquerors.” Then his face bright ened with a strange radihneo, and he whisper ; ed so softly that his friend could scarcely catch : the words whispered Us to some invisible ! auditor. [ “Yes, my darling, yes!!” The .next instant the faint heart-heat under Steven Chase's had was sjtill. They have buried-him, since then, beside the grave where ho knelt in the moonlight the night. before he went- aiiay. Only a, foot of earth between the two who. loved each other so dearly. Is there so mncli ? Surelyour dreams of the future are not all in vain. Surely, some where in the heaven which is “ anchored off this world,” where sickness and sorrow.never pome,, and there are neither wars qor rumors of wars, somewhere in-that still Land of Peace they are tasting the cup of joy which earth denied them. ... John ’Morgan, and JohiTSlorgSn’s wife and children, will speak the name of Ash Thorny croft all their lives with such reverent tender ness as befits the memory of one who is en shrined in their hearts as saint and as deliverer. We know not yet for what good end he and those who fell with him laid down their lives— God grant that we may know hereafter—that the seed sown in tears we may reap with ex ceeding great joy. sutlers from tijc Prom Hammond’s Company. v . Camp near Beli.e Plain, Va., 1 February 23, 1803. J Fkiend Agitator: It will he seen that we.re main in the same place.' It is now more than two months since we came here and' built quar ters, as we were instructed, for the winter.— Col. Lyle, commanding out Brigade, is every inch a soldier and gentleman ; and when we settled in this little valley, he took the precau tion to see that measures were adopted to make us Comfortable for the winter, in case we should remain here. This seemed to be uncertain; but the facts, as they have occurred, have fully vindicated the sense of his judgment, and- the correctness of his forethought. We have the warmest place, most convenient to wood and water, and, with all, the most comfortable quarters that I have seen. Unlike many of our neighbors, who have to their wood, some of them neatly a mile, we have wood so near by-that three of a squad of ten can pro provide enough in one-half hour for a whole day and night. Then the cheerful’fire glows, .andround its genial heat, and cheerful blaze, we pass the .time in talking of the past, in reading, and in various ways too commonly ■ mentioned to be of interest. We compare our present with our past soldier experience, and grow almost jubilant at the contrast. - How often have we, when on, the march, risen at the early reveille, sometimes long before it was yet light, and after diligently searching, pet haps,.for half an hour, for something to kindle d fire, and. then hurrying off for water with which to boil,a tin of coffee, cooked our morn ing, raea! of the soldier’s unvarying, often scanty faro, if su&cient time were allowed ; and having partaken of it, have then buckled ft n our heavy load, and set oat for a day’s march 1. Then, at a halt during the day, with- interval of rest uncertain, bow often have we poured the coffee on the ground for want of time to cool to a palatable degree or perhaps, have seen it overturned by the over-anxious hurry of some hungry compan ion, as unconsciously he undermined the un certain basis, and our “ tin,” capsized, lay empty before us, who, with huge appetites, be took 1 ourselves to the inevitable “hard tack,” and a slice of strong bacon. This, perhaps, is the darker side; and yet is only on paper, and varies much from actual experience, in that no, imagination can equal the solid fact. So we are most, willing to hang the curtain of forget fulness between the past and present, through the indulgence of the times. f Yet, we have our duties before ua even now; the early morn is announced by the rattle of tbs drum, and the shrill echoes of the fife, when the soldier wakens, and hurries from his warm bed, simply to let the over particular superiors, who have such watchful care of them, know that they are present—to hurry'on their boots or shoes, button every other button, and appear before the scrupulous Orderly, sim ply to say, in answer to their names “ here," that they may be accounted present. Then they gather up the embers of the fire of last night’s vigils, and if they are so fortunate as to have a remnant of yesterday’s wood, they soon have a blazieg fire, if the chimney does not obstinately refuse “io draw.” One is dis patched for j water, which they catch near by, as it runs from a gun barrel inserted intp the hank of anl adjacent creek, where numerous springs of jery good water arp, found; while another swbeps up the earthos floor, with! a broom madje, perhaps, ia an idle hour, of either hickory or maple; and yot another sets about preparing the morning meal. This con sists of the Regular rations, with an occasional issue of vegetables, and with what additions they see fit io make, by purchasing what .may here be badi at the rather exorbitant prices which here jprevail. Thus: cheese at 40e., butter at 50e„ apples 50c. per dozen, soda crackers at 250., cakes do., and many other things at pribes ranging about the same. Breakfast eaten, the streets and adjacent grounds are “policed,” as it is here termed, by a police guard, regularly detailed, or perhaps appointed for being absent at rolloal). So that; when tjhe~weather is fine, things'look clean and neat about camp; and a healthy atmosphere thereby prevails, which is of course, very essential, Then, if the weather permits; guard-mounting and company drill follow : 'the former of which is quite an interesting formal parade, the first few times it passes under one’s observation. ißattalion drill and dress parade consume mosf; of the afternoon. We never have enjoyed imoch of an opportunity-to drill in battalion ; | and yet so much diligence has been'observed, that we can perform- the moat essential evolutions with general success. Of course the weather is such, moat of the.time, that drilling is suspended. To-day there is a body of snovlr a foot deep lying the ground. Most of it fell the 20ih and 21st in stants. It fasti beneath the vfrann "sun, which shines <W to-day in splendor from the clear, blue heavens. The snows ,we have had here have uniformly melted away in a few hours; and top of the soil, which is light and sandy, soon dries off. We have had a few nights, and ond or two cold days ; but wo shall scarcely realize that another winter has passed, even when the vernal showers have fallen, and the bright summer-time is well upon us. Five days ago we hai a heavy rain; then two days of clear, bright weather intervened, during wbieh time, by good fortune, we were on pick et ; and now a deep snow .covers the ground, which we expect will give place to mud in a few hours. S[ eaking about picketing: The first night' we vere out, at about 3 o'clock' we were quite surprised to hear the sharp crack of many rifles, in the line to the right and front of the noiit where I was stationed, with forty“mcn; which we bad reason to think might result in something serious; fur it is unusual and strictly prohibited.' Yet, I could but think there inust, be some mistake .about it; for we bad heard nothing from the cavalry pickets in front, and could bat think.that it was the result of timidity.. The firing con tinued for some little time, but at length ceas ed; whether.froin the it ant of or the removal of the cause of fear, we knew not at that time; but in the morning the former inference was refuted, for they began, anew and kept firing, at intervals, till they were-re lieved. It proved to be the “new soldiers,” as they are called, who-came down in .the Bock tail Brigade;- hot I amasaured by Capt. Sufield, of your place, (whom we had the pleasure to meet a day or two since,) that the Backtabs were not among them. So we had all our trouble for nothing—no blood was spilt, unless they chanced- to hit a rabbit, that tempted them by crossing their beat. • , ; We were agreeably surprised the evening we returned from picket (21st) to see Treasu rer Card, of our county. We bad a friendly visit, and received from him a full account of many things of local and, consequently, par ticular interest to us. We had hoped to see others of our friends from Tioga, but begin to despair. A visit would pay well, for the time; in what might be seen and heard. Calvin Hammond made us quite a visit; so that, after all, we have seen quite a number of Tiogans during the winter. , Capt, Hammond, after suffering for months ’ from, protracted illness, and trying in vain to get a leave, or resign, (as he believed he would never be fit for the service again,) was lately ordered to the Officers' Hospital at Georgetown. We mies him very much, and were sorry tq have him leave us; yet we knew that he wasr growing wofre, and hoped he might get with* out the limits, and free from the tyranny of the army, where he night restore his health,' and be among bis friends. Truly, a man may about as well be dead, as sick in the army. Respectfully, yours, Juo. I. Mitchell/. - m so, from Capt. Eofield'a Company. from a Private Xetter.} Camp near Belle Plain, Vm, if ■ February -21, 1863. J 1 Dear Brother ; You will see • by! the head ing of .my letter that we have changed odr locality sumoiJiat since my lost writing, and have taken up our abode in that much talked of land called “ Dixie.” -But before 1 attempt to descrfbp the country where we are at pres ent located, I will give you a harried sketch Cf our trip and a glance at all our movements since we received marching orders. : f 1 One week ago yesterday we Received orders to report to our regiments head qgutters as soon ((S' relieved. This, of course, sat us to conjectur ing as to what was to be done with uo. As tbs' Reserve 6orps was then at Alexandria, some said that we were -to reinforce Hooker, others that we were to_go into the new barracks that were said to be a fitting up for car accommoda- were relieved that very evening, and the next afternoon we were ordered to remover to oar new barracks. This seemed to please all very well, although wo well knew that it could be but for a thort time at the longest,' as we were obliged to turn over all government' property; and onr worthy Q< M. found storagh for all private property we chose to leave.. Now that we were in the barracks we might'stay a week, perhaps a month—no-one knew how long —bat about seven in the evening all .each con jectures were scattered to the winds by an op-, der to draw two days rations and cook thorn' that night and be ready fora start.at six in-the morning—“a thousand hands were busy then,” in preparing their “ hard tack” and salt pork fur a march. At four ip the morning, tfaje long roll called all from their beds, and at eight the regiment was formed and onr much beloved Colonel gave the order to “forward march" and we were off for tho wharf through the : rain and mud where we embarked on ths Louisiana, which had been sent up for ouc ac commodation. At two fifteen in the afternoon wo were under sail for some point in tho “ Sun ny South” two know not where. We- had a fine chanco’to see the surrounding country.— Nothing remains but one desolate waste. Isay all, but there' is one spot which met our vi«W which seemed to have escaped, from the desola ting tread of treason’s hosts. That spot was the home of the illustrious Washington, Mount ' Vernon. I only regret that 1. did not get a fairer view of those sacred grounds, that Mecca ■ of America. At eight in the evening we were - anchored at Aquia creek, where we expected to land-in the morning but were happily diaap- • pointed, by finding as the day began to dawn our boat again under sail. -**♦»** At about two o’clock we were landed at Belle Plain, with some three miles march before na through the mud, hut as the old saying is “ variety is the spice of life,” we all took it good naturedly and soon were on our way re joicing, over hills and through the mud. We arrived at: what now proves to be our camp groound, at about four o’clock, pretty well tired and without a spot or place to lay our heads. We all began to think that this must ' be the romance of tho thing, so we all went to work to prepare for a night’s rest. Somedlxed up a shelter with their blankets—others throw • up a pile of brush and then threw themselves • upon it, and sang out, “ who- would not be - a Soger.f’ There was one thing however essen tial to tho comfort of s soldier which we had ’'not received since' our landing, that is a hard Cracker. Some of the boys went to the,Quar termaster’s and procured a few of the requisite and then pounced upon them asa thousand hun- - gry wolves would upon a sheep fold. After hav ing satisfied their hunger they repaired to their brush heaps and blankets for the sight and soon all was wrapped in the tender embrace of marpheus. We awoke in the morning to find five or six inches of snow. We had no tents - and but two or three axes in the regiment and ■■, the snbw still flying thick and fast around us. - ♦ * * * * * j_l will now give you a short history of what bos transpired since we - arrived here. At eleven o’clock Tuesday night : we jeceived oidcrs for a detachment of 228 ■ men from our regiment for picket duty. There - was a,detail from each company ordered to get - two days rations of bard tack and forty to unde of cartridges and be ready to start at six the next morning- I was among the number and -■ will give you a description of our trip. At six, in the morning we were ull ready for a start and were soon on our way for Brigade head quarters. On reaching them we were joined" • by a detachment from the 150th and;.lslst P. • V., which swelled our numbers t 0,360 mem—t We were then put in charge of a field ofiicer and marched to the picket line, a distanced 8 ! or 9 miles, through -mud, slush and rain, and over the roughest .country l ever saw. I need hot stop to say anything about the' mud as you . have, often, heard of . Virginia mud, I peed ■ only say that it can not bo exaggerated. -I'l'he' storm still kept pelting away at us although we were made of iron and, could stand'': every- . thing, toft we.wer9iObliged.to stand.it, and do. our dutyj come what would. I did not bear a
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