Yours as ever, ORVILLE DEWEY. [265] To Rev. Henry W. Bellows, D.D. SHEFFIELD, Aug. 15, 1863. MY DEAR BELLOWS,--Such a frolic breeze has not fallen upon these inland waters this good while. Complain of heat! Why, it is as good as champagne to you. Well, I shan't hesitate to write to you, for fear of adding to your overwhelming burdens. A pretty picture your letter is, of a man overwhelmed by burdens! And weigh a hundred and eighty! I can't believe it. Why, I never have weighed more than a hundred and seventy-six. Maybe you are an inch or two taller; and brains, I have often observed, weigh heavy; but yours at the top must be like a glass of soda-water! Nature did a great thing for you, when it placed that buoyant fountain within you. I have often thought so. But let me tell you, my dear fellow, that with all the stupendous share you have had in the burdens of this awful time, you have not known, and without knowing can never conceive, of what has weighed upon me for the last nine months. . . . I thank you most heartily for your sympathy with C. After all, my satisfaction in what he has done is not so great as in what his letters, all along, show him to be. . . . Always and affectionately your friend, ORVILLE DEWEY. To Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey. SHEFFIELD, Nov. 28, 1863. MY DEAR FRIENDS,--I received your letter, dated 20 September, two days ago. I am very sorry to see that you are laboring under the mistaken impression that I [266] have lost my son in the war. Something you misapprehended in-'s letter. You seem to suppose that it was Charles who used that striking language, "Is old Massachusetts dead? It is sweet to die for our country!" No; it was Lieutenant-Colonel O'Brien, who fell immediately afterwards. Charles was one of the storming party under O'Brien. He stepped forward at that call, for they had all hesitated a moment, as the call was unexpected; it came upon them suddenly. He behaved as well as if he had fallen; but, thank God, he is preserved to us, and, is among us in health, in these Thanksgiving days. All were around my table day before yesterday,--three children, with their mother, and three grandchildren. To Mrs. David Lane. SHEFFIELD, Dec. 29, 1863.