the Trostle house where the Massachusetts battery has nearly been swept away—up on the Emmitsburg road west. But soon we are marched back by and south of Trostle's, form line of battle and pass on south, through corner of wheat field, on edge of which Gen. Zook is mortally wounded—on through strip of timber, over or around huge boulders. It is almost six o'clock when we are in line of battle, facing south and west—Col. Roberts killed in front of Regiment—right wing in open field under severe enfilading fire, suffer terrible losses—Lt. Col. Frazier, as soon as he realizes situation changes front of right wing to face Peach Orchard—our Company on left. We fire continuously. Serg't Boyd and I pass to left of Company as all are doing well their duty. We fire from big rock into bit of timber dark with smoke. I fire some 17 rounds. Boyd calls out, 'Orderly, they are falling back.' I fire a load I had just put in. Boyd has disappeared. I start back seemingly alone, going out about the way I came in—soon come up with others, but I do not know them—all running for dear life and Johnnie bullets rattling all about us. Crossing an open space, I could see the rebels close upon us to my left—they order me to surrender—but I can't see it—I'll run the risk, as I could see our lines to the right and some timber in front into which I soon pass, and get out of range. Could hear the rattling of the muskets of our lines. It was a bloody battle, but Co. K and the whole of the 140th acted nobly."

Back a little distance I found a few of our boys, and we found our way back to our field hospital. Through much of that night I assisted at the hospital. I held the arm of Lieut. Vance of Co. C while his hand was amputated. That to me was a most dreadful night. I slept soundly a few hours in the morning. Then joined the remnant of our noble Regiment on the line they held that eventful 3rd of July.

When the smoke of battle in that fearful conflict in evening of 2nd of July, and that world renowned battle of the 3rd, most of which we saw distinctly, had passed away, K numbered her dead five: Serg't T. C. Hayes, Thomas J. Carter, Robert W. Hull, Wm. H. Miller and Jesse Sprowls. All good and true soldiers. I deeply felt the loss of "Clif." Hayes, my blanket mate, warm-hearted, noble-spirited, ever faithful. These were buried on the 4th, as best we could. I superintended the burial of Hayes and Carter. Hayes' remains were soon removed to the home graveyard in Cross Creek Village, Pa. Comrade Magill tells me that the remains of Carter were interred in the National Cemetery, Gettysburg, but that it is erroneously marked Carpenter.

Lieut. Cook and Serg't Shindle were taken prisoners. And our list of wounded were: Serg't Alexander, in arm and hand; Wm. Hanlin, in hand and leg; Robert Virtue, severely in breast; Robert Meldoon, in face and leg; Johnson Toppin, in shoulder; Ben Earnest, severely in face; Isaac Chisholm, in thigh; Jos. Corbin, in leg; Colin Nickeson, in breast.

Corp'l Wm. R. H. Powelson was promoted to be sergeant in place of Hayes, and James K. P. Magill to be corporal in his place.

One instance should here be related in K's favor. J. B. Allison, a private of this Company, was the instrument of saving the colors of our Regiment. I give it as he told it to me in a recent letter: "As we were falling back from our position near and in sight of the Peach Orchard, at Gettysburg, our color-bearer was severely wounded in the back. He fell forward, and raising himself partly up called to me to save the flag. I lifted him partly up and drew the flag staff from under him. I kept the flag in my possession for say a half hour, until I came up with the scattered group of the Regiment. I gave the flag into the hands of a corporal of Co. E (I don't remember his name). I believe he was finally made a captain." This, I am told, was Corporal Power.

The "fiery ordeal" of Gettysburg as a test found some wanting in true courage. And one faint heart in K was sifted out. George Star was missing when with our Corps we took up our march southward after Lee. And we had to report him a deserter, under date of July 15, '63. Comrade Mounts reports that Star was seen three years after and reported himself as having traded suits with a farm lad a short distance out from Gettysburg, and gone west.

K's readiness in coping with obstacles and meeting present emergencies was manifest when on July 17th the race to head off Lee's army being ended, we quietly turned in east of "Maryland Heights," below Harper's Ferry, to rid ourselves of a month's accumulated dirt together with the usual accompaniment, and the wholesale and retail slaughter of the pediculos vestimenti was immense. Then, when on next day we came upon nature's own sanitary provision in fields of dewberries and what some foraging on the farms of Loudoun valley brought us, we toned up our impoverished and abused bodily systems, and further fitted ourselves for the active work in the months to come, in which we pushed the rebels back through Culpepper to the Rapidan, and then, when they were reinforced, ran with them a race for Washington, with the brisk encounter at Auburn, or "Coffee Hill" and battle of Bristoe Station, heading them off effectually at Centerville, and in turn pushing them back across the Rappahannock, with encounter here and there, and last the early winter dash and conflict at Mine Run, where the Johnnies were strongly entrenched, and finally settling down in good winter quarters at Stevensburg and near Brandy Station.

K shared in enough of the spices of soldier life to keep the boys in good humor and give them a zest for the hardships endured. Will Powelson and others of the Candor mess got off easily, when mustered up to headquarters by the provo-guard, having in their possession a good-sized pig, by a caution from Gen. Miles not to ever be caught again. They got even with the General by sending him a neat roast from a hind quarter. And Silas Cooke tells of the wading of the Rapidan in the latter part of November when it cut like a knife, and charging up the heights into the rebel breast-works, and drying ourselves in the sun; then of the race after the long-tailed lamb, and the row of fat porkers all dressed that morning by the rebels, left in their haste, and divided among us. Some of our boys will remember the "hot coffee made from the contents of a whiskey canteen, which blistered our mouths while we swallowed it to the music of the long roll, and did not know what was the matter until the owner of the canteen (who had come in late and hung canteen on top of others, and, in Will Powelson's haste to make the coffee, was first to be taken) let it out." But let it pass now—42 or more years have passed—what matters it now whose canteen it was? He may be living and be serving the God of his fathers faithfully as an elder in some staid Presbyterian church. The circumstances were then trying, and possibly some one needed a warming up. Comrade McCalmont assures us that the coffee was warming and made the marching enlivening to some of them, as we forced our way along on, as Cooke adds, "the march along the railroad, the camp in the cut, the fearfully cold night, and the troops the next morning stripped for the charge (at Mine Run) on the frosty hillside, but called off on account of the cold, the long, gloomy night of retreat amidst fires on either side to keep us warm (and light our way). Retreat No. 2 for the 140th, and the last I believe." So in all this campaign K sustained a worthy record.

Some changes had taken place. Enoch Mounts was discharged Aug. 22, '63, on surgeon's certificate of disability; Robert Virtue, one of Cross Creek's best young men, died from effects of wounds received at Gettysburg, in the hospital at Baltimore, Sept. 9, '63. Joseph C. Frazier was discharged on surgeon's certificate of disability, Sept. 30, '63, having been in hospital a long time. John W. Nickeson was on account of impaired health transferred to the Veteran Reserve Corps, Nov. 15, '63. John M. Day was