Well! the long weary day of battle was closing and the fighting was done, at last. This 10th of May was a day filled up with fun, and fasting, and furious fighting; simple description, but _correct_. Thirteen to sixteen lines of infantry we had broken, and repulsed, during that day; and what between infantry and artillery we were under fire all day from five A. M. to nine o'clock that night; had toiled all night long, the night before; not a morsel had passed our lips all day, but one small crustless corn cake, taken out of a wet bag that had lain for hours, in the rain. A tired lot, we lay down that night on the wet ground to sleep, and be ready for the morrow. We fell asleep with the artillery still roaring on the lines, and shells still screaming about in the dark, and slept a sound dreamless sleep all through the night. The next day, _the 11th_, was, for the most part, quiet and uneventful! The bloody and disastrous repulse of every effort of the enemy to force our line, had, as it well might, discouraged any further attempt along our front. From time to time we could hear the Federal artillery, on our front or other parts of the line, feeling our position, with an occasional reply from our guns. The sharp-shooters of both sides were keeping up their own peculiar fun. At every point of vantage, on a hill, or behind a stump, or up a leafy tree, one of these marksmen was concealed, and would try his globe-sight rifle on any convenient mark, in the way of a man, which offered on the opposite line. Any fellow who exposed himself soon heard a bullet whistle past his ear, too close for comfort. Several of us had narrow escapes, but the only casualty we suffered was Cornelius Coyle. Coyle was from North Carolina and it seems that the jokes we were wont to indulge in at the expense of the "Tar Heels" had gotten him sore on the subject. In order to show us that a "Tar Heel" was as careless of danger as anybody else, he exposed himself, very unnecessarily, by standing on the works and on the guns, while the rest of us were "roosting low," and about two o'clock he got a bullet in the thigh, which disabled him, I believe, for the rest of the war. It was bad judgment! The jokes on the "Tar Heels" were only meant in fun. Nobody ever doubted the courage and gallantry of the North Carolinians. They had proved it too often, and were proving it every day! It did not need for Coyle to expose himself to prove it to us, and by his mistake we lost a good soldier.