April, Saturday 9, 1864
What strange weather. cold, bitter cold & raining. Laura awakened me with the news that Lieut. Buchanon of 2 Mo. Cav. with two of his men were here. I hastened to dress, as I expected they would have some news—they came here last night about 6 o’clock to see if we could tell them anything about the Pickets. I dressed and went in the Parlor, he did not stay very long, had twenty men with him on an expedition to capture Cav Pickets—I regreted to learn from him this morning they had failed—they took french leave, we thought we heard the Yanks coming, they did not get this far, rob’d poor old Mr. Isbell of all his meat, and a great deal of corn,—fourteen in the squad, how I wish those Mo’s could have known it in time to have captured them. Oh! mercy, I am so lonely—have not sewed much today, sat in the Parlor with Father a little while after tea. Poor Father, his heart is as sad as my own. L. & B. did not say a lesson tonight. Laura, Tip and I all alone, poor, poor Beulah—I sat up very late, alone, ah! the hearts echo of that simple word.