September 23rd, 1862

Camp Chase, Sept 23rd, 1862

My dear wife,

I have just read your letter to me written Sunday, it is strange to me you did not get my last letter for it was sent on the same mail with Mark’s. Perhaps you failed to send to the post office if you have received that and the one I wrote Sunday.

You will have the benefit of all the advice I can give you about business, but for fear you will not get them I will write what I have time to write. You must act on your own judgement.

I should prefer that Boss Ed should keep [Fanny]¹ if he will keep her all winter, and I would let him have some hay if he would come and take it out of the barn, but if he won’t agree to keep her ‘till spring he had better send her home at once. As for Eben Warner, if he is the man I think he is, he would not hurt a louse. His cattle always look as slick as mice, but he don’t know how to manage a horse, yet if you can’t suit yourself any better perhaps you had better let him have her on condition that he shan’t sell her to anyone but yourself. Yet in all this you must act as your own kind heart shall prompt you.

I hear from Mark that Elford is shelling corn. You say that you are a going to have the back lot cleared, that is a good plan. I guess you will do things about right but I like to advise you.

You speak of sending us a box, I don’t want anything sent to me for we are liable to cut sticks anytime and we have more than we can carry. If I should be posted in some place and want anything I will let you know.

You spoke of my laying on the ground. I did, but the boys all wanted to share blankets with me so that I had one over me and did not take cold. The boys take the greatest pains to do anything for me they can. I came in from a severe drill today, and felt pretty bad (for to tell the truth I have had to work so hard that I have not fully recovered my strength). The boys fixed me up a good cup of tea and I feel refreshed tonight.

In one of my letters I spoke of losing my bundle², I have found it again.

I have written you twice that E. D. Dickerman was to pay you fifty dollars for me and I repeat it so as to be sure that you hear of it. I want you to dun him for it if he don’t pay it without. You must tend to this for I don’t want him to pocket it himself. If you have not pluck enough, set Orin after him. Mark says tell Elford that he received his letter [and] will answer it soon.

I am very sorry to hear that baby is so miserable. Poor little thing, how I should like to see her. I think of her and you all the while, but I do not regret that I enlisted if I can be of use and I want you to act as though we did not live altogether for our own comfort.

Dear wife, I can’t write more tonight but you shall hear from me again soon.

Cecil