February _ _, 1864.—By special invitation, we rode over the hills to the Camp today, to see the battalion drill. It was a dress parade and every man looked his best. I made a new (old) acquaintance after the drill was over. Frank Baker, the only son of Judge Bolling Baker, of Virginia. He is just as handsome as a picture and very pleasant. I could scarcely recall the little boy of years ago, who thought I was too small to notice. I think I must have grown just a wee bit.
The camp is beautiful; it is only a short distance from Goodwood and Aunt Sue told the boys to come over whenever they felt like it. She also offered them books to read, which offer was eagerly accepted. Tonight Mrs. Howard Gamble is giving a large party and I must stop writing and see about my dress. We cannot vary our toilettes to any extent in these days of the blockade.
(This diary was written in pencil and in many instances the dates are almost, or quite, illegible. The month and year are plain but the figures are not so plain; particularly is this the case during the years of warfare, possibly the pencils were poor, or the paper might have been. At any rate we ask our readers to be lenient if some little mistakes occur.)
