Brattleboro, March 7, 1864.
Dearest Abiah,
I received your most welcome letter last night. I was in luck for I got a letter from Catherine at the same time. I was glad to hear that you were well, except for that headache. Hope that is no more than a head ache. You cannot know how anxious I am when I get a letter and how quickly I glance over its contents to see that you are all well. I am afraid that you work too hard how does the money hold out If you are like to run short, perhaps I can borrow it and not wait for pay day.
I did intend to have gone to Hinsdale today, but the mud was too deep. There is but little snow here, but plenty of mud and the road to Hinsdale looks long and besides, I wished to fill this sheet of paper with something. Yesterday morning the robins were singing, and it appeared like the right time to tap the sugar place and it was. I hear that most of the sugar places were tapped yesterday and day before and the sap has run very fast and is running now. We had a little rain last night. I felt pretty homesick yesterday morning. I expect to have many such mornings this spring, but you will not pity me I suppose. Well, I do not deserve any, but I am sick of Brattleboro.
If it were not for you and the children I should wish to get away from here as quick as I could, leading such a shiftless life. There is work enough to do, but it is not the kind to suit me. There is a fortnight’s work for us all here in cleaning up the chips of straw ashes and all kinds of filth that lies around in confusion. I had rather be at work clearing up my own door yard somewhere in the world, and when the day’s work is done, laying my head I know where.
We are to commence drilling tomorrow. I am glad of that. We are to do so, but I cannot see how to do it, for the ground where we drill is covered with ice and water. It has been very pleasant here for sometime, but I think I have said enough about the weather and snow and ice. My last letter Catherine writes that they are all well, the doctor has gone from home and that he will write to me when he gets home. She says that it is very healthy at Bristol this winter, more so than it has been any winter since they have been there. How much I should like to visit them, if it were not for the cost, I would get a pass and go up and spend a day with them, but as it is I must content myself to remain here in this last place of creation. If I could afford it, you would see me a little oftener than you do for I could go.
Miles Stone has gone to Washington. He expects to get back here about the 10th of this month. I am anxious to hear from him and see him. I wish to know what kind of an ordeal he has gone through. The way sometimes looks pretty black to me. Perhaps, you will say “No wonder, for it is a dark subject.” It does not require half the military talent to get promotion, in the volunteer service, as in the road I am striving in. I am astonished, when I try to get a little information on some point I do not understand. If I had one half the military knowledge that Zopher has I should have no fear. I believe so far as my knowledge extends that the non-commissioned officers in the army understand the drill much better than the Lieutenants and Captains.
We have a fine officer in command of our company now, Lieut. Morrill. The boys like him first rate. He is a cousin of the hotel keeper at West Charleston. He seems to look after our interest pretty closely. The comfort of a company depends much upon the care of the officer in command. We have but one office in command now, the Lieutenant. He is the man that was with Ed Hamblet when that man was shot at St. Johnsbury. We live better now that we have ever done before. Have got a new cook. Sometimes, have hash for breakfast. Last night had baked beef and some good potatoes and we have saved on our bread rations and have drawn a barrel of flour so we can have gravy and have it thickened, which we did last night.
