town in the evening to ride out with her husband.  During the summer, Mrs. Bragg passed many days of convalescence at the lovely cottage-home of Dr. and Mrs. Gamble, at Cherokee Springs, but she was quite too feeble to come into town very often.  Religious services were frequently held in the beautiful grove at the Springs; these I attended as often as I could be spared, Mrs. Gamble always sending for me and sending me back in the ambulance.  Later a convalescent camp was established there, and then I rode out on horseback every evening to look after my “boys,” until the transfer of Dr. Lee as surgeon in charge and Mrs. Lee as matron rendered my services no longer necessary.  Very pleasant memories cluster about the room in the court-house at Ringgold assigned to my special use.  I often seem to hear once more the sweet music of “General Blandner’s lute,” sometimes accompanied by the clear soprano of Mrs. Gamble, sometimes by our blended voices.  I remember as distinctly as if it were only yesterday the kindly faces and cheerful voices that smiled upon and greeted me as I ran in from the wards to take a few moments’ rest.  I had collected and kept on the shelves in my office a great many books for the use of convalescents, who were my most constant visitors.  The mantelpiece was decorated with articles of curious workmanship and miracles of beautiful carving (the gifts of my patients), variously inscribed.  There were cups and saucers, with vines running over and around them, boxes which simulated books, paper-cutters, also rings made of gutta-percha buttons, with silver hearts let in like mosaic.  I was as proud of them as a queen of her crown-jewels, and always kept them on exhibition with the precious notes of presentation attached.  Had I retained possession of these treasures, I would have proudly bequeathed them to my children; but, alas! these, like everything else, fell into the hands of raiders.  Many officers of distinction visited my little sanctum,—­not only surgeons from other posts, but men of military distinction, clergymen, and others.  General Bragg came frequently for a time, also Bishop Beckwith, and many others whose faces come to me while their names elude the grasp of memory.  I welcomed them all alike, for I have never felt a prouder heart-throb in the presence of an officer, no matter how exalted his rank, than while viewing the shadowy forms of my convalescents or answering their earnest greetings as they passed in and out of my office, or rested awhile in my one easy-chair, or, still better, came with buoyant step and bright eyes to bid me farewell when ready to report for duty, never failing to leave with me the “God bless you!” so precious to my soul.

Some of the poor fellows who were wounded at the battle of Murfreesboro’ now began to suffer from gangrene.  Tents were pitched outside the hospital for such cases, and it was often my fate to stand beside these sufferers while the surgeon removed unhealthy granulation with instruments or eating acids, or in other ways tortured the poor fellows to save life.