What surprised me most was the utter indifference manifested by the veterans to the petty annoyance of vermin and insects, and the matter-of-fact way in which they overhauled their clothing and disposed of the grey-backs when found. For about a week the recruits had "fine times," as the soldiers thought, having nothing to do but "bum around," and sleep--when they could, which was mostly in the day time. The days were excessively hot, as were the nights until about 11 or 12 o'clock, when it became uncomfortably cold. During this week of leisure, I pretty thoroughly explored the region in the vicinity of our camp, and visited Newbern on 'pass,' but found nothing special there to note, if I may except the fact that there were many really cozy and comfortable-looking dwellings, and numerous flower and fruit gardens--some of which gave evidences of former tasteful ownership, but which seemed of late to have come in for their share of the general neglect and destruction. Those of the inhabitants who still clung to their homes seemed to wear a sullen and discontented look, with some exceptions, and these were of the mercantile class, who, with the sutlers and others who follow the wake of armies, seemed to fall in for their fair proportion of the trade. About the greatest curiosity to me was what was called the new cemetery, in the upper section or suburb of the city,--the wall enclosing which is built of shell-rock--a curious fossil concrete obtained in some part of the State--where I do not know. There are many graves, and a few tasteful tombstones. Beyond this in what has become an open field or common, are several soldiers' graveyards consecrated by the poor fellows whose bodies repose there, who for love of fatherland, left home and kindred to return no more. My first duty on picket was at Mr. Bray's plantation. "Old Bray" the boys called him, and being on the outpost which was near his house, I determined to give the old gentleman a call. I found Mr. and Mrs. Bray at home, the former seated on the piazza reading a newspaper, and the latter squatted on the doorstep doing 'nothing in particular.' They were a lean pair, (but their _leaniny_ was not on our side, as I afterwards found), and had a family of five or six lean boys and girls. They certainly looked an unromantic enough realization of our ideal Southern planter and his family. Mr. Bray was apparently about 45 years of age, and his wife perhaps as old, although she seemed much older. They both looked sour and cross enough to dispense with the use of vinegar at meal-time. But they did not seem indisposed to have a chat with the Yankee 'hirelings,' and soon I was made acquainted with all their griefs--the husband commencing the relation of them, but the wife invariably winding up.