Bridgeport, Friday, Dec. 18. Sharp, cold night, the mud of yesterday frozen hard. Evie and myself started to the hills to quarry stone for a fireplace after breakfast. Worked hard for two hours and gathered a good load. Waited for a team another hour. None came, so we went to camp after dinner. Blake did the chimney, and we had the gratification at night to have a large blazing fire in our room, now comfortable quarters which looked quite home-like. Stories told with fun, laughter, till late at night.
An Artilleryman’s Diary–Jenkin Lloyd Jones
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