"It matters little now, Lorena; The past is the eternal past. Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena; Life's tide is ebbing out so fast But, there's a future--oh, thank God-- Of life this is so small a part; 'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod, But there--up there,--'tis heart to heart." The writer is so partial to the old maids of the Confederacy that he is afraid of a charge of extravagance were he to say anything more. But the author of this book is not the only one to admire and love them. Hear what another old Confederate soldier says in the following letter in the Atlanta _Journal_: SUGAR VALLEY, GA. DEAR MISS THOMAS: Will you permit an old Confederate soldier, who has nearly reached his three-score and ten, to occupy a seat while he says a few words? The old maids of to-day were young girls in my youthful days. They were once young and happy and looked forward with bright hopes to the future, while the flowers opened as pretty, the birds sung as sweetly, and the sun shone as brightly as it does to the young girls of to-day. They had sweethearts; they loved and were loved in return; they had pleasant dreams of the coming future to be passed in their own happy homes surrounded by husband and children. But, alas! the dark war clouds lowered above the horizon and all their bright dreams of the future were overcast with gloom. They loved with a pure and unselfish devotion, but they loved their country best. The young men of the sixties were the first to respond to their country's call and marched away to the front, to undergo the hardships and dangers of a soldier's life. Now, can you imagine the pangs that rent the maiden's breast as she bid farewell, maybe for the last time this side of eternity, to the one who was dearer than her own heart's blood, as she watched his manly form clothed in his uniform of gray disappear in the distance? She tried to be brave when she bade him go and fight the battles of his country. She remained at home and prayed to an all-wise and merciful God to spare him amidst the storm of iron and lead, but her heart seemed rent in twain and all of her bright hopes for the future seemed turned to ashes. The weary days and months passed in dread suspense.