few." "Well, I want some to pay a debt I owe at the North, and I'll give you Confederate money for them. You'll want some, for you'll probably lie for months in the Libby, and you'll die if you don't send out and buy good food." Said I, "Thank you, I guess I'll hold on to my greenbacks till I get there." The fact that nearly all the hospital officials had made the same request on various pretexts was significant enough to me. At 2 A.M., we arrived, where I now write, in the Libby prison, being received with the once familiar cry of "Corporal of the Guard, Post No. 1." The corporal came and let us in. The officer, cross and sleepy (the infernal traitor, Peacock, by the way), sent us to the hospital department, up three flights,--immense room in large tobacco warehouse, lighted with a single dip, which only made darkness visible. A ragged young nurse, with his hair on end, welcomed us to the scene of despair. We were put on cots of sacking, with nothing under or over us, and shivered ourselves into oblivion. The next morning, the familiar notes of reveille on the fife, accompanied by the bass and snare-drum of the side-show, which Andrews used to detest so, brought us again to consciousness. I was about to put my head out of the window, but was forcibly informed that I'd better not, unless I wanted it shot off. This day, a party went off which we had hoped to join, but were disappointed; and a squad of sixty odd came in from Macon, Georgia. I thought that I had seen filth, squalor, and wretchedness before, but I never even conceived the meaning of the words; and what these men had been through would have been incredible, except to those who saw them. They said the Libby was heaven, in comparison to what they had come from. Saw a dress-parade of the regiment on duty here, which would have shamed the cadets for measliness of turnout. _Saturday._--In hell, _alias_ the Libby prison. _Sunday._--This morning before breakfast, little spitfire clerk came up to take our paroles. I could have embraced the little devil, but I didn't, only waited till my name was called, when I toed the mark _instanter_, and quite won his heart with the promptitude with which I recited my descriptive list, insomuch that he asked me to take a letter to his sweetheart. After this, the wretched crew were packed into coaches and wagons, under command of the black-hearted traitor Captain Peacock, and we left Libby, the sergeant and I being in with two half-dead wretches of the Macon crowd, swarming with vermin.