I was not specially interested in the subject, but it was Hobson's choice; I could read anatomy or nothing, and so I tackled it with such good will that before my friend became sick and was taken outside, and his book with him, I had obtained a very fair knowledge of the rudiments of physiology.
There was a little band of devoted Christian workers, among whom were Orderly Sergeant Thomas J.Sheppard, Ninety-Seventh O.Y.L, now a leading Baptist minister in Eastern Ohio; Boston Corbett, who afterward slew John Wilkes Booth, and Frank Smith, now at the head of the Railroad Bethel work at Toledo.

They were indefatigable in trying to evangelize the prison.

A few of them would take their station in some part of the Stockade (a different one every time), and begin singing some old familiar hymn like: "Come, Thou fount of every blessing," and in a few minutes they would have an attentive audience of as many thousand as could get within hearing.

The singing would be followed by regular services, during which Sheppard, Smith, Corbett, and some others would make short, spirited, practical addresses, which no doubt did much good to all who heard them, though the grains of leaven were entirely too small to leaven such an immense measure of meal.

They conducted several funerals, as nearly like the way it was done at home as possible.