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� 12 January 19. Sunday Camp Franklin

Muddy, muddy, muddy. No Service either. James sick and confined to his tent. Wants to get his discharge, and think I shall try to get it [inserted] for him.

Sent letters this morning to my chum E.V.H., and Dr. Shailer. What a strange Sabbath we have passed! No public worship, no singing, no praying, no preaching, no Sabbath School, no vestry meeting, no Sabbath exercises at all.

Would that I might enjoy a good old Sabbath like those we used to have at home in Portland!

My faith looks up to Thee Thou Lamb of Calvary Saviour divine +c.