It was the patient convalescing; the fever had left him, he was getting fat and strong; the old fire was seen to illuminate his eyes; his step was buoyant and proud; he felt ashamed that he had ever been "hacked"; he could fight now.

It was the same old proud soldier of yore.

The bands played "Dixie" and the "Bonnie Blue Flag," the citizens cheered, and the ladies waved their handkerchiefs and threw us bouquets.

Ah, those were halcyon days, and your old soldier, kind reader, loves to recall that happy period.
Mumfordsville had been captured with five thousand prisoners.

New recruits were continually joining our ranks.
Camp Dick Robinson, that immense pile of army stores, had fallen into our hands.