Nearly a week was spent in the Cumberland camp, as it has been called by many, and that week, despite the fact that the army was doing no fighting, was a busy one, although now all of the soldiers got their proper time to rest. The sun came out once more, the ground began to dry up, and as Louis said, “life was once more worth living.” Near to where the Goreville Volunteers were situated flowed a small stream, and in this the soldiers went bathing and washed their clothing. It was rather a comical sight to see hundreds of men squatting down by the water’s edge, or sitting upon flat rocks, rubbing and soaping and rinsing away like so many washer-women. Even the soldiers had to laugh at themselves, and many were the jokes passed about getting a job in a laundry when the war was over. Some few were too lazy to do much work of this sort, but the majority would go a long way to be clean and comfortable. Of course mending went with the washing, and even Louis sat for hours, threading a needle that seldom would thread, and sewing on buttons and mending socks. Mail day was an event, and the soldier who did not get at least one letter from home was the object of genuine sympathy. After the communications were delivered there were always a certain number left, mute reminders of war’s terrors, for those letters were addressed to those who had died on the field of battle. There was other reading, too, for the newspapers from New York, Boston, and Philadelphia could be had, if one wanted to pay the price, which was from ten cents to “two shillings” apiece, and these and the big pictorial weeklies were read by one and another until the pages would no longer hold together. There were also many religious books and tracts, supplied by the various religious societies of the North, reading that brought many a poor sinner to the realization of his condition. Among the letters was one from home for Louis, stating his last had been received. Mr. Rockford mentioned the fact that he had had another call from Samuel Hammer and the fellow had threatened him with a suit at law to gain possession of the farm unless he was paid the three thousand dollars he demanded. “I have put him off as best I could,” wrote Mr. Rockford. “And in the meantime I have learned that when Theodore Faily left this neighborhood he went to Richmond, Virginia, to live. Were it not for the war I should communicate with Faily at once and see if I could not get him to settle this Hammer claim. But, as matters now stand, my hands seem to be tied. I wish the war was over and we could get this matter straightened out. It worries your mother greatly.” “This is certainly too bad!” murmured Louis. “If Faily went to Richmond we won’t be able to get at him, no matter how hard we try--at least for the present. I wish I could help father out of this trouble.”