patrol duty here,) two or three societies of Odd Fellows, a lot of
children in barouches, and a squad of policemen. (A useless imposition
upon the soldiers--they have work enough on their backs without piling
the like of this.)

As I went down the Avenue, saw a big flaring placard on the bulletin
board of a newspaper office, announcing "Glorious Victory for the
Union Army!" Meade had fought Lee at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania,
yesterday and day before, and repuls'd him most signally, taken 3,000
prisoners, &c. (I afterwards saw Meade's despatch, very modest, and a
sort of order of the day from the President himself, quite religious,
giving thanks to the Supreme, and calling on the people to do the
same.)

I walk'd on to Armory hospital--took along with me several bottles
of blackberry and cherry syrup, good and strong, but innocent. Went
through several of the wards, announc'd to the soldiers the news from
Meade, and gave them all a good drink of the syrups with ice water,
quite refreshing--prepar'd it all myself, and serv'd it around.
Meanwhile the Washington bells are ringing their sun-down peals for
Fourth of July, and the usual fusilades of boys' pistols, crackers,
and guns.


A CAVALRY CAMP

I am writing this, nearly sundown, watching a cavalry company (acting
Signal service,) just come in through a shower, making their night's
camp ready on some broad, vacant ground, a sort of hill, in full view
opposite my window. There are the men in their yellow-striped jackets.