It is pleasant to find that here, as generally in the world with members of the learned professions, the surgeons were humane and kind; and remonstrated with the authorities whenever remonstrance on behalf of the poor sufferers was needed. Of course they could not "minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow," or, "With some sweet oblivious antidote, cleanse The choked bosom of that perilous stuff That weighs upon the heart;" but gracious words and sympathizing looks, and the consciousness that he was once more in the hands of _gentlemen_, were a source of great comfort to the patient, after having been brought into daily and hourly contact with the familiars of Major Turner. Another gratifying circumstance was, that the Federal surgeons held as prisoners were permitted to attend upon their sick comrades when they expressed a wish to do so, and that, of course, was very frequently. Even an hospital has its little events, which although they appear very trifling in the retrospect, are of considerable importance at the time of their occurrence. Here these little episodes were not infrequent. At one time it was the destruction of a box of dainties sent by the Federal Sanitary Commission for the prisoners; at another, it was the excitement incident to an exchange of the surgeons held in captivity; and again, it was the surreptitious acquisition by some of the patients of a daily newspaper, and the guarded dissemination of such items as it might contain among his fellow-sufferers; but greatest of all in importance was the receipt of a letter from HOME. Even when surrounded by all the incidents of home life, the postman is ever a welcome visitor; but in the midst of such a dreary captivity as these men were undergoing, a letter from _home_ was like a message from heaven. Their correspondence had, however, its sad as well as its cheerful aspect. The prisoners were restricted in writing their letters to six lines, by an arbitrary order from Major Turner, and much ingenuity was exercised in the effort to crowd into these six lines the thousand and one messages which many of the writers desired to send to mothers, wives, sisters and sweethearts. Here is a genuine specimen of a "regulation" letter from a fond husband to the wife of his bosom: My Dear Wife: Yours received--no hope of exchange--send corn-starch--want socks--no money--rheumatism in left shoulder--pickles very good--send sausages--God bless you--Kiss the baby--Hail Columbia! Your devoted husband, A. D. S. But the "rule of six" was successfully evaded for a considerable time, by the manufacture and use of invisible ink. The trick was however at last discovered, and the way in which Glazier tells the story is so amusing, that we are tempted to give it in his own words: