Early this evening I went out again in company with Mrs. Johnson, and remained until twelve o’clock, dressing wounds and doing what I could to relieve the suffering of our poor boys. Among the many incidents to-day observed worthy of note, I will mention but two. While distributing my crackers and soup to the inmates of a large church, where there are perhaps a hundred and fifty or two hundred poor sufferers lying side by side upon the floor, nearly all seriously and many mortally wounded, my ears were saluted with the voice of song, and, looking around to see from whom it came, I saw a poor fellow with a severe wound in both arms, whom some one had raised up from his hard bed. He was sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, singing as cheerfully, and apparently as joyously as if he were seated at the social hearth with his own dear family. It was a scene which brought tears to my eyes, for the voice of song strangely mingled with dying groans, and I thought that one who could shut his eyes to the scenes of distress around him, and so far forget his sufferings as to attune his heart and voice to singing, must indeed have experienced the blessedness of the Christian’s hope. In this hospital is another with eight wounds. He lies on a stretcher entirely helpless. While feeding him I entered into conversation with him, when, to my surprise, I found that he entertained hopes of recovery--which seems to me would be almost miraculous.[4] The rest of our party arrived this afternoon with the balance of our goods. [4] Some two years ago, to my great astonishment, I met this man, who, though having recovered, is badly crippled for life. _Sunday, the 15th._ Another busy day. It has seemed but little like the Sabbath. After taking supplies to four different hospitals, and distributing, and working among the wounded until late in the afternoon, I came home and prepared chicken-soup, and carried to Planter’s Hotel--assisted by Mr. Green--sufficient for nearly four hundred men. Michigan soldiers of the Ninth Corps are here largely represented. Among these are many seriously wounded. My attention was particularly called to two such by Chaplain May--viz., Captain Donohue of the Eighth volunteers, and Lieutenant Joss, of the Second, each with an amputated thigh. But little hope is entertained of their recovery. I tried to speak encouragingly to them, having been requested to do so by the surgeon, Dr. Fox; yet it seems almost wrong to endeavor to inspire with hope of recovery those for whom nearly all hope has fled. Promising to see them often and do all I could for them, I left, feeling that it would be only a short time that they would need anything, except the soldier’s blanket and a few feet of earth.