April 12.—My arm is fast getting better; I have put nothing on it but cold water, I believe that is a cure for almost every thing.
Mrs. W. is very busy, and goes about all the time in the wards.
Dr. Hunter has left for his home, in Mississippi, to bring his wife here. Dr. Patterson of Tennessee is now in charge. He is a perfect gentleman, and we are all much pleased with him.
I have been looking at some men working. I do not think that any of our negroes ever worked as hard. Our firewood is brought in in large logs. We have no saws, so the men have to cut it. There is one man now chopping away, who I am told is worth his thousands. He is dressed in grey homespun, and seems as much at home as if he had always been accustomed to that life. War is a great leveler, and makes philosophers of us, when nothing else will. It astonishes me to see how the men adapt themselves to circumstances. The men in the kitchen act as if that was their place, and always had been. I saw one of them receive a letter, this morning, from his wife, and as he read about her and his little ones the tears trickled down his cheeks. They were manly ones, and will never disgrace the bravest and best.
