Oh, that little book! We're all in it, even poor Charley Bowen. Mrs. Summerhays should have written a longer story. She soldiered long enough with the 8th in the "bloody 70's" to be able to write a book five times as big. For what she's done, God bless her! She is entitled to the Irishman's benediction: "May every hair in her head be a candle to light her soul to glory." We poor old Regulars have little said about us in print, and wish to God that "Vanished Arizona" was in the hands of every old veteran of the "Marching 8th." If I had the means I would send a copy to our 1st Serg't Bernard Moran, and the other old comrades at the Soldiers' Home. But, alas, evil times have fallen upon us, and--I'm not writing a jeremiad--I took the book from the post office and when I saw the crossed guns and the "8" there was a lump in my throat, and I went into the barber shop and read it through before I left. A friend of mine was in the shop and when I came to Pringle's death, he said, "Gurnett, that must be a sad book you're reading, why man, you're crying." I believe I was, but they were tears of joy. And, Oh, Lord, to think of Bowen having a full page in history; but, after all, maybe he deserved it. And that picture of my company commander! [Worth]. Long, long, have I gazed on it. I was only sixteen and a half years old when I joined his company at David's Island, Dec. 6th, 1871. Folliot A. Whitney was 1st lieutenant and Cyrus Earnest, 2nd. What a fine man Whitney was. A finer man nor truer gentleman ever wore a shoulder strap. If he had been company commander I'd have re-enlisted and stayed with him. I was always afraid of Worth, though he was always good to my brother and myself. I deeply regretted Lieut. Whitney's death in Cuba, and I watched Major Worth's career in the last war. It nearly broke my heart that I could not go. Oh, the rattle of the war drum and the bugle calls and the marching troops, it set me crazy, and me not able to take a hand in the scrap. Mrs. Summerhays calls him Wm. T. Worth, isn't it Wm. S. Worth? The copy I have read was loaned me by Captain Baird; he says it's a Christmas gift from General Carter, and I must return it. My poor wife has read it with keen interest and says she: "William, I am going to have that book for my children," and she'll get it, yea, verily! she will. Well, Colonel, I'm right glad to know that you are still on this side of the great divide, and I know that you and Mrs. S. will be glad to hear from an old "walk-a-heap" of the 8th. I am working for a Cumberland newspaper--Lonaconing reporter--and I will send you a copy or two of the paper with this. And now, permit me to subscribe myself your Comrade In Arms, WILLIAM A. GURNETT. Dear Mrs. Summerhayes: Read your book--in fact when I got started I forgot my bedtime (and you know how rigid that is) and sat it through. It has a bully note of the old army--it was all worthwhile--they had color, those days.