6th. Sunday. Overslept and wakened at “forward.” Hurried along. Rode a little obstinate pony. Passed the other brigade and encamped at two miles distant. Saw some Confederate papers, very neat. Warmest day of the season. Bathed in Grand River. Wrote a little, read two or three chapters in Philippians. I wish it were easier to be good, or rather I wish I were a better boy and doing some good.
