I was very much gratified to receive a letter from you. I am glad that things are prospering so finely at home.
     You, no doubt, notice that I often speak of "my home" this may seem a little strange as I have declared so many times that I did not consider that I had a home but as I remember the loved ones in that distant place of my nativity & from whom I am so happy to hear I feel as if I could call it nothing but home & I contemplate great joy in meeting you all again when I shall return to that spot about which so many happy recollections cluster. I frequently picture to myself the old house nearly half buried in snow & the family about their usual occupations in the old kitchen. then I think of farmyard scenes which are pleasant for me to imagine but I fully remember

that I was not always anxious to witness for I can recollect of horses standing all the forenoon without any water because I dreaded a little cold & of other portions of the stock that had similar grievances from the same cause. I should like to see the stock now for we have seen noth[ing] in that line for a long time except old worn out horses & poor deathly looking men
     I want to see my pony I think of him as almost perfection in the horse department.
     I'd like to see your steers. I think they must be quite a sight. You tell me that you have sold a part of your timber. How much & what price do you get for it?
Do not work too hard this winter, for you must bear in mind that you cannot endure so much as once you could. If I could be as hardy there as I am here I think I could perform a fair amount of labor. It does not seem as if I ever was so sickly & good for nothing
     I am often reminded of this, "The feeble wrap the athletic in his shroud" as I see our stout

men fall & many that have formerly been slender perform their duty day after day & week after week without intermission
     We have sad news if true from our advance army [i.e., Burnside's defeat at Fredericksburg]. I can but hope that it is a snare & that we are in better condition there than we are represented to be. It casts a gloom over my heart to know of so many of our brave soldiers falling, suffering & dying without accomplishing any good results. I am anxious to see this unholy war brought to a conclusion & the great results accomplished that I belive God intends to bring about by this great struggle & which will be done in His own good time & way. what I fear is that we are not moving in accordance with His will, but it is not for me to say. I am ready to go wherever lead & believe that I shall come out allright.
     We have to send out large pickets now on account of a part of the cavalry belonging to our brigade being surprised & captured by a guerilla band at Poolesville a few miles

above us. About the lambs. if you cannot get me some first class ones I do not care about having any. If you see any matched steer calves that are nice & that you can get decently cheap I should like for you to get them if you get no lambs but one kind is enoug[h] for I very likely shall want neither but a short time. I found out the prices that are charged for our clothing & was astonished to find that already I have drawn over thirty dollars worth. I want to know when the family write to me how much of my produce you have sold & what price you receive for it. I was very glad to hear by the last letters, hope to hereafter. Dear Father. I want you to write me often & Mother, you told me that I should frequently hear from you. I want that promise verified I think no less of my mother by being absent from you & I have great pleasure in the thought that soon I shall be with her, but do not think by the style of this that I am growing discontente[d] for I am not.

your aff. son
John

I have written this between drills so I expect I have written nothing that I wanted to. It is a very fine day down here in Md. today