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[letterhead]
Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands.
Office Surgeon in Chief, State of Georgia.
Augusta, Ga. Dec 7th 1865.

[in pen]
My Dears

It is Thanksgiving—a bright morning—
windows still open all night—garden green—
flowers still in bloom—all about like our
September. So after breakfast—as we are
detained here for the day—I drop this line
to you—At Grandma^s I suppose, or per-
-haps all are with you—being your turn I
am sure. Happy, of course, with thoughts
of the past gratefully felt, a good dinner, &
all the comforts—Well I am quite home-
-sick—Here to day where some stores are shut, a
bell or two ringing—& some (not many) yielding
to the Presdients proclamation & pretending to keep
Thanksgiving—But sure I dont know how they
will do it—all so sour & sore. The news too
this morning from the North & Congress, being so dis-
-agreeable to their still rebellious spirits. It is
awful for them, so haughty had they become
in their insolent expectations of late. Now so
dashed—Can't probably get any of their
states into the union, nor but a few of any of
their delegates admittted to Congress.

Well, some of us—the nation as such all, have
much to be thankful for.

I am going to hear D^r. (Secesh) Wilson preach