Why did we not build winter-quarters, do you ask? Well, we had already built two sets of winter-quarters, and had been ordered out of them in both instances, to take part in some expedition or other; and it was a little hard to be houseless and homeless at this merry season of the year, when folks up North were having such happy times, wasn't it? But it is wonderful how elastic the spirits of a soldier are, and how jolly he can be under the most adverse circumstances.
Christmas Eve around the Camp-Fire.
"Well, Pointer, they hadn't any business to put me out of the mess. That was a mean trick, any way you take it."
"If we hadn't put you out of our mess, you'd have eaten up our whole box from home in one night. He's an awful glutton, Pointer."
"Say, boys! I move we organize ourselves into a court, and try this case," said Sergeant Cummings. "They've been arguing and arguing about this thing the whole day, and it's time to take it up and put an end to it. The case is—let's see; what'll we call it? I'm not a very good hand at the legal lingo, but I suppose if we call it a 'motion to quash a writ of ejectment,' or something of that sort, we'll be within the lines of the law. Let me now state the case: Shell versus Diehl and Hottenstein. These three, all members of Company D, after having lived, messed, and sojourned together peaceably for a year or more, have had of late some disagreement, quarrel, squabble, fracas, or general tearing out, the result of which said disagreement, quarrel, squabble, et cetery, et cetery, has been that the hereinbeforementioned Shell has been thrown out of the mess and left to the cold charities of the camp; and he, the said Shell, now lodges a due and formal complaint before this honorable court, presently sitting on this pile of pine-brush, and humbly prays and petitions reinstatement in his just rights and claims, sine qua non, e pluribus unum, pro bono publico!"
"Silence in the court!"
To organize ourselves into a court of justice was a matter of a few moments. Cummings was declared judge, Ruhl and Ransom his assistants. A jury of twelve men, good and true, was speedily impanelled. Attorneys and tipstaves, sheriff and clerk were appointed, and in less time than it takes to narrate it, there we were, seated on piles of pine-brush around a roaring camp-fire, with the snow falling fast, and getting deeper every hour, trying the celebrated case of "Shell versus Diehl and Hottenstein." And a world of merriment we had out of it, you may well believe. When the jury, after having retired for a few moments behind a pine-tree, brought in a verdict for the plaintiff, it was full one o'clock on Christmas morning, and we began to drop off to sleep, some rolling themselves up in their blankets and overcoats, and lying down, Indian fashion, feet to the fire; while others crept off to their cold shelters under the snow-laden pine-trees for what poor rest they could find, jocularly wishing one another a "Merry Christmas!"
Time wore away monotonously in the camp we established there, near Culpeper Court-house. All the more weary a winter was it for me, because I was so sick that I could scarcely drag myself about. So miserable did I look, that one day a Company B boy said, as I was passing his tent: