Camp Life, the Doctors and Kag�.
15. Saturday. Breakfast amid a jolly
crowd, the rain descending overhead on our can-
vas roof. To the surgeon�s tent. Surgeon Phil-
lips and assistant Dayton, the last the son of the
U. S. minister to France. Both good fellows. They
had a superabundance of stores which must be
left behind, out of which they supplied me with
stout socks and a blue cotton-woollen overshirt
which stood me in service during the campaign.
Kag�, the lieutenant-colonel, a Pole, with
a shrewd, honest, peculiar face. Whiskey,
smoke and chat; the rain increasing outside.
I had not slept well last night, so I dozed
luxuriously on a stretcher in the afternoon. Din-
ner at 4 � P. M. again in the colonel�s tent.
He had been mightily busy all day setting the
tailors among his regiment to make bags and
sacks of Uncle Sam�s canvas, so that the tent
looked like a slop-shop. Back to the Surgeon�s
tent. A harmonic party within, rain without,
descending heavily. At 9 � turned out and
slid through the mud for a yard or to to the
chaplain�s tent, where I occupied the mattrass
of Kag�, who had gone to Washington to visit his wife. He knew
Gurowski, by the way, and spake well of him. I
made one nap it all night.
16. Sunday and} Are chronicled in the
17. Monday} appended letter to the Tribune.