The sun shines so brightly I begin to think of flowers, and see that others do also, by the beds of every shape which adorn the nooks by tent-sides, and by the barracks, and along the walks. Corps badges and all manner of fanciful patterns are represented, and the sun is warming the tender germs, and calling up leaf, bud, and flower, almost unheeded in the excitement of the hour. The transport leaves on her daily trip, and so we drift along—waiting—hoping—fearing.
Oh, such joyful news! Lee has surrendered, and the rebel capital is in our hands. Oh! soon we shall go home now—the war must be at its close. Such cheering from the men was never heard. Every man able to get out of his bed is following after the drum, and the cripples have hoisted their crutches, and put their tattered hats upon them for banners, and the whole camp is wild with the clatter. Home—children—friends—soon we will hasten our war-wearied steps toward you, and bathe our souls in your rest!
I am completely worn out in body, but this joyful news renovates my soul, and in prospect of speedy release I drag myself about. There will be but little if any more fighting, in all probability, and the wounded are feeling so glad over thoughts of the homes soon to be seen.
