The regiment is to-day divided into detachments and ordered to move on different roads on both flanks of the army. About noon the detachment which we accompany arrives at Baily Springs, one of chivalry's fashionable resorts. But we find none of her devotees pacing the building's dim corridors. War's stern voice has called them away. The springs are beautiful, sparkling with nature's purest liquid-dashing in playful sprays from granite rock. The weary soldiers love so well to linger here-love to kneel at the healing fountain. After feeding we move on our way. Before entering the main road three men from the detachment stop to do some foraging, but the chickens are difficult to capture, making strenuous efforts when pursued by a yankee. The lady of the house comes to the door and smiling sweetly says: “Soldiers, there's my little dog, he can catch them for you." "Thank you, madam, we don't want your chickens,” replied Sergeant Hackney, of Company H, and the soldiers make their exit. How well did that woman know where man was weak. The column is now moving on the old “military road.” The main body of the Seventh is now on the left flank. Striking out through the woods and brush we come up with the regiment about 4 P. M. We go into camp at 8 P. M.
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