own fireside, watching the operation of making and baking a corn hoecake, which, with some smoked beef of my own preparation and a cup of corn-coffee, made my supper on this Christmas eve.  It was so bitterly cold that I did not undress; but, wrapping a blanket around me, lay down on my bunk.  Tempe also rolled herself up, and lay down before the fire.  In order to explain what followed, I must here say that the boards of my floor were only laid, not fastened, as nails were not to be had.  I was awakened from “the first sweet sleep of night” by an unearthly yell from Tempe, who sprang unceremoniously upon my bunk, grasping me tightly, and crying, “O Lord, Miss ——­, yearthquate dun cum!” Sitting up, I was horrified to see the boards of the floor rising and falling with a terrible noise.  A moment later I realized the situation.  A party of hogs had organized a raid, having for its object my precious potatoes.  A sure-enough “yearthquate” would have been less appalling to me, as I have always been mortally afraid of hogs.  Just then one of the invaders managed to knock aside a board and get his head in full view.  I shivered with terror, but Tempe now grasped the state of the case, and, being “to the manner born,” leaped forward to execute dire vengeance on the unfortunate hog.  Seizing a burning stick from the fire, she rushed upon the intruder, who had gotten wedged so that advance or retreat was alike impossible.  Her angry cries, and the piercing squeals of the hog, roused all in the vicinity.  Help soon came, our enemies were routed, quiet was restored.  My pones were a great success.  All who were allowed by their surgeons partook of them.  I had two immense pans full brought to my cabin, where those who were able brought their plates and cups, receiving a generous quantity of the pone and a cup of sweet milk.

But these struggles and hardships were nothing in comparison to what was now to befall us.  The constant fighting and daily-increasing number of wounded at the front required the presence of experienced surgeons.  After the battle of Franklin some of ours were sent up.  In one or two instances those who replaced them were young and inexperienced.  They were permitted to attend the convalescents and light cases.  One morning, I was aroused very early by a nurse who begged me to go to one of the convalescents who had been calling for me all night.

Arrived at the tent, which at that hour was rather dark, I lifted the flap to enter, but was arrested by a piteous cry from the patient, who lay facing the entrance.  “For God’s sake keep out that light,” said he, “it hurts my eyes.”  The nurse said, “It’s masles he has, ma’am.”  So I concluded the pained eyes were not unusual.