The small annoyances of this life are sometimes the most aggravating. The little whiskers on Dick Radke’s chin had worried us for some time. On this day we caught him stroking them. There is a limit to all patience. We rose in our might and removed them, after an ineffectual struggle on his part. Private Frech’s well-dyed, tiny mustache came near meeting the same fate, but he would make no resistance and only begged for the privilege of removing it himself, so we spared the mustache. A number of guns were accidentally discharged while we were in camp on the Capitol grounds. None of the accidents, however, were attended with such frightful results as that of the Fourth of July, though there were several narrow escapes. Corporal Burtis gave the order to load while standing in front of his squad (he should have been in the rear). One of the pieces accidentally discharged, the ball entering the ground about twelve inches in front of him. He will never stand in front of a squad again and give the order to load. Private Hayes, also had a close “shave” one night when on picket duty, the rifle of the man next to him being discharged very close to his head. This is one of the great dangers to be guarded against. A man cannot be too careful when he has a loaded gun in his hands. The gun should be always carried with the muzzle up, but, when loading, the muzzle should be pointed to the ground. Do not stand in front of a man when he is loading his gun; watch yourself and those around you. Every man should be well grounded in these principles by his instructor. About this time the sick and dying telegrams came pouring in from anxious parents. The mail was too slow for messages like these: “DEAR CHARLIE: Mother dying, come home at once. FATHER.” or “DEAR WILLIE: Father very sick, not expected to live, come home at once. SISTER.” “Come home at once” was the largest part of telegrams whose brevity made the hair curl. The wires were kept hot with these missives. It looked very much as if there was going to be a boom in the undertaking business in San Francisco, and that many of the National Guard would soon be orphans. The letters received by the boys from their mothers were generally very tearful, each fond mother praying for the speedy and safe return of her darling boy. There were a few exceptions, however, one of our boys receiving a letter that was worthy the Spartan mother. She called upon him to do his duty manfully and courageously; she hoped that his conduct in time of danger would reflect credit upon himself and company. We are happy to say of him that he is a worthy son of such a mother, for he performed his duties, at all times fearlessly and well.