National Hotel, Washington,
Nov. 19, 1863.
Dear Sister L.:—
Perhaps you think my long silence bodes no good. If you do, dispossess yourself of that idea immediately.
I am half “luny” with delight. Do not think that because I would not allow myself to think or speak of coming home, or listen to you, that I cared nothing for my home or my friends. No, indeed! But now times are altered and I shall be with you next week, God willing. “How? Why?” Because I am “First Lieutenant, Eighth Regiment, United States Colored Troops, Philadelphia. Pennsylvania.” and have leave of absence for fifteen days, signed by the Secretary of War, in my pocket.
I shall go to New York to-night to buy some clothes and see my friends. I shall stay till Monday night. Then I come to you. I will stop on my way to Michigan to call for E. and take him home with me.
This is good news to you, I know. It is to me. I hardly expected to get home, but last night I went down to see Major Foster, stated my case and asked ten days. “Why, you can’t go to Michigan in ten days; it will take you all the time to go and come.” I thought, you see, that if I asked too much, I wouldn’t get anything. “Make your application in writing and I will see what I can do for you.” I made the application this morning for fifteen days and got my papers through the whole red tape in an hour.
E. made the most sensible remark I have read since the talk of my promotion. Said he, “I shall think no more of you than I did when you carried a musket, but the world will.” Straps are honored, and already I see the advantage of wearing them, though I have not got them on.
