"And so am I from Michigan. I've heard of you before, I thought this
was some good Samaritan," giving his hand for a hearty shake.

"And who is this?" I asked.

"I'm Dr.----, from one of our Michigan cities. And what are you doing
here?"

"I am doing just the work you see before us."

"Yes, and I saw a span of mules trying their best to kill her two
weeks ago, when they came sailing down that Paradise Road up yonder;
but they couldn't do it," said his guide.

I asked him what he was doing. He said he had just come to see if
there was any thing he could do. I told him of the new camp on the
Ralston plantation, and of this camp of four thousand. I hoped he
would look after these, as we proposed to leave soon for other fields
of labor below.

On March 24, 1864, I took letters to post-office, and found one from
our dear friend, Addie Johnson, assistant matron of Soldiers' Home, in
Columbus, Kentucky. I went to General Tuttle for an order for
transportation to Baton Rouge, and, as usual, introduced myself by
handing my official papers. Being a very large man, he was in
proportion consequential.

"What do you want?"