Alba Woods just sailed down by my tent spreading a story he heard in another company—that Companies I and F are going up to Chain Bridge today. I don’t care a darn, one way or the other.
Being right here in Washington, we put on a good many airs—white gloves, shiny boots, &c. To see the regiment on dress parade now one would hardly recognize it as the same set of men that we have seen plugging through the Virginia mud or dust, dirty, ragged, and lousy.
We have another man in our tent—one of the Seventeenth—James C. Rand. He is nineteen years old, was married just before he came away, and was in the Sixth New Hampshire a while.
XCII
Camp Marston, Washington, D. C.,
June 10, 1863.
YOU must not be disappointed if I make a short letter of this. I came off guard this forenoon and am going to have a pass to the city. Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, we start to rejoin the army on the Rappahannock, and I will write more as soon as we are with the old crowd again.