Bill Waud, Damoreau and Edge.
of her, his sentimental whorings and others, have
produced this result, on his head and heart be
two thirds of the sin and damnation. I
shall grow to believe in innate depravity, soon.
The contemplation of this sort of thing makes one
sick and savage, though one can�t go through the
world roaring like a moral and bull about it.
How many good people do I know on this side of
the Atlantic? I shouldn�t need the fingers of both
hands to count �em.
6. Monday. Down-town in the afternoon; cal-
led at the Illustrated News Office and saw W. Waud.
He spoke of the Seven Days Retreat and his experi-
ence of it, of the hunger, mud, misery and danger,
saying that he had scarcely anything to eat for six
days, except part of a chicken that Alf stole from
a farm-house. W. W. was ill of a fever and got
a sun-stroke on the field of Four oaks. Alf has
been back to New York twice; he was worn down
almost to a skeleton, but soon recovered. Like
his brother, Bill is Mc Clellanish, but less ram-
pantly so. Alf has declared his intention of seeing
the war out. Met in Nassau Street. Damo-
reau (looking at a miserable pro-slavery carica-
ture in a shop-window), adjourned to Mataran�s,
drank and talked. Edge came in the evening
and jawed. From him I obtained a synopsis
of the social position of my former acquaintan-
a swindling lottery the two got up together.