January 20.—A beautiful day. I have received a letter from my brother. As usual, it is filled with bright hopes of the future—pictures of the enemy flying in dismay and confusion the next time they meet, and wiping out the disgrace of Missionary Ridge. He says they are in comfortable winter-quarters, having built log-cabins. He had a nice Christmas dinner sent from home.
In a letter from Mrs. Dr. Burt, who is now living with her father, in the upper part of Georgia, among the mountains, she says the people there are almost starving, and that our cavalry behave very badly, taking every thing they can lay their hands on; and that her mother and self are compelled to hide their jeans from them. I regret hearing of our own people doing such things.
