Dear Mrs Meek

     Doubtless you will be somewhat surprised to recieve a letter from one whom you have never known, or even heard spoken of. But when I think of your kindness to my brother [i.e., Miltiades Cash, Co. A, 4th Indiana Cavalry], who now sleeps beneath the sod of the valley, I can but come to you in written language, to thank you, (would to God it were in my power to do more for that attention shown to Tidy when in need of friends.
     Mr Welshans the gentleman who was with him during his sickness, is now at home on furlough. He has given us the particulars concerning his sickness, and also his death. He has also told us of your kindness to him. It is this Mrs Meek, that has led me to write to an entire stranger.
     We have lost a jewel that can never be replaced.

He has left a vacancy that can never be filled. A hearthstone that will ever be desolate. A home that will always be lonely, and when this cruel war is over and his comrads come marching home, we will listen in vain for Tidy's footsteps. How many times I have wished the angel of peace had spread her wings over this our confused land, ere Tidy fell a victim, to its cruelties, but alas! how many family circles, How many golden chains, have been severed, and a loved link lost in the confusion. How many hearts to day, are burried within the gloomy cells with friends, sleeping that sleep that knows no waking, in the "Sunny South", Away off where there are none to love none to drop one tear for their departure.
     Tidy had been dead some three weeks before we heard he was wounded. It has been a long time since I saw him. And now to have to realize that he has gone forever. I had gone West on a visit; I had no thoughts of him enlisting. A day or two after I started he went into camp at Indianapolis, I tried very hard to get home to see him before he left, but could not. Thus he went. Thus he died. I never believed I would see him if he went, it be

ing the third time he had been out. I often wrote very discouragingly to him, for I felt that I would never see him.
     I often think if I could only have been there to have administered one antidote, to have kissed the quivering lips, to have closed his sparkling eyes, and to have offered one prayer for his soul's admittance into a better world, I sometimes think it would be easier to endure but as it is, it is very severe.
     I have loved Tidy all my life, with love unbecoming for a sister. I always doted on him; for he was so kind and affectionate. Always ready and willing to do every thing, and any thing, that would constrain to our happiness. But alas! the treasure has left us, the beautiful flower has been plucked by the hand who gave it; and there is nothing left but the golden memories of one who once did tread this earthly ground. His memories that shall live as long as life lasts
Alf Welshans tells us that he was burried in a nice grave yard, and well burried. This of course is a great consolation.
     And now Mrs Meek, could I ask one favor more of you? Perhaps I ought not to ask another favor

when you have already done so much; but I will ask just one mor. That is to visit his grave at your liesure. If it is not too much trouble will you plant a few flowers on the grave. Is this asking to much? If so forgive me. And if you plant flowers there, and they bloom, will you send me some?
     One more favor and then I will desist: That is simply this. Send me your photograph. Tidy thought so much of you, and any one that he loved we also love.
     But being a stranger I will not tax your patience Could I ask an answer Mrs Meek? I would love so much to hear from the lady so kind Tidy.
     If you write Adress,

Sallie F. Cash.
Danville
Indiana