September 24.—Newnan is now the head-quarters of the army. Hood is moving West. No one can tell what will be done next. Sherman is still in Atlanta. Every thing is quiet.
I have received a letter from my friend, Dr. Burt, who is now at Cuthbert, twenty miles below this place. The way the hospitals move from place to place puts me in mind of the contra-dance, where the head couple are always taking a jump to the foot. Some time ago I wished to go to the hospital which Dr. B. is in, because it was so near the army, but now he is way below me. He gives an account of two raids which visited Oxford, near Covington, while he was there. He says the enemy infested the place twice; but, thanks to high weeds and green grass, he was not captured. He also says he is completely demoralized with what he has gone through and the fear of other raids, and that any thing blue, even the blue of heaven, gives him an unpleasant feeling.
We are getting the hospital put to rights again. On the square where the fire was new buildings are being erected. The latter is one of the things I do not like to see; for, like Dr. B. and the blue, the sight of new lumber gives me an unpleasant feeling, as it is always a sure sign of our exodus. We are having a fine bakery built—I believe the eighth one our baker has had to put up since the war.
