I know these soldiers, and I know that their action is the result of sober thought and manly decision.
I have employed three or four details in building what they termed a "meetin' house." The first time I used a guard-house gang—about twenty boys in for over-staying their leave in Washington after pay-day. They kept up their waggery while bearing logs and building seats and sang, "There'll come a time, we pray, when we'll not have to build a church each day."
There are a half-dozen fellows in the guard house to-day. I just now promised them, to their delight, to take them out to-morrow and work them. They were glad to get out of the "cooler" on any terms. Yesterday I had a volunteer squad—not convicts—helping me "snake" logs with mule teams to our new meeting grounds by the tabernacle. Many provocations, of course, arose—mules, stumpy roads, contrary logs, pestiferous knots, etc. But when I saw some fellow getting wrathy over a justly provoking situation and struggling with his righteous indignation, I spoke a timely word—sometimes too late—just to refresh his mind with the fact that he was working on a "meetin' house," and with and for the parson. Then we all had a laugh and worked on without cussin'.
These boys are now reading my letters. Half of them will read, or, gathered about in their company lanes, will hear read, this letter. As their friend who would not have them let this evil habit fix itself upon them, I would entreat them to guard themselves against profanity.
V. JOY AND SORROW.
Last Saturday I received an interesting packet of letters from someone in St. Louis, who signed herself simply "R. S. M." The idea was so unique and feminine, and the letters gave so much amusement to the boys that I will tell you something about it. There were ten sealed envelopes in the packet accompanied by a note to myself, explaining the object to be to give a little amusement to the boys, and to help fill up a few minutes with "something unusual." Each letter bore a different address, some common name being selected, such as "Mr. Smith," "Mr. Jones," and so on. The inscriptions on the backs of the envelopes were the interesting exterior feature. One was addressed in this manner:
"When this you see, remember me."
"A valentine for a dyspeptic member of Company C."