In Camp. Did not “turn in” till after twelve last night. Slept well. Cleaned up somewhat before breakfast, though had cleaned up my gun before. After breakfast gave away what hard-tack I had left. Many of our boys got out of rations yesterday. Mine lasted well. Relieved a half past twelve. Corporal Loring and I came in together. Called at Mr. Bolen’s, but got no cabbage—two S[harp] Shooters getting ahead of us. Rested at Widow _____’s[!] beyond the brick church. Saw the only young man I have seen in the South. All are old men that I find at home, the young ones having taken up arms. This young man pretended to be sick. I believe he is a guerilla. Saw a negro near Mr Rixie’s or Rixey’s 101 yrs. of age last Christmas, an intelligent old darkey. He wishes to live long enough to see all his children, five of which he has, free. One reply to a remark of mine was quite apt and witty. In conversation I remarked “Why not you favor the south, your massa does.” He and me are two colors he quickly and aptly replied. During his life he had been used well part of the time but not always. Cut across by Mrs. Bradford’s, of whom I have heard so much lately. She is secesh. Her husband is a prisoner somewhere North. One of her darkies said she did not use them well once, but does better now. War will make changes in the condition of the negro. God be praised! Saw one regular “hoggish nigger.” Reached camp at four o’clock, having been three hours coming from Mr. Bolen’s here through the mud. Hungry enough. Two papers and one letter waiting my arrival. Expected more. Don’t see why I don’t hear from home. Call from cousin George Jones, who arrived last night. Had a good chat with him. Glad he has arrived. Called to see the Dr. Found him quite sick. Wrote a letter for Lieut. Richards in regard to the movements of our Co. the past two months. One of the most beautiful day[s] for this season I ever saw. Clear, warm, and spring-like, a May-day in December.