March 16th
Miss Eliza Jamison, my fair unknown friend of Baltimore, sent me five dollars, promised to correspond with me herself, and enclosed a bright, sparkling letter, full of wit and humor, from a young lady friend of hers, signed “Mamie,” offering to “write to me once in awhile to cheer me in my prison life.” Miss Eliza Jamison thus describes “Mamie” : “She is full of mischief and fun, but very discreet and particular. She is small, has very dark hair, beautiful black and very expressive eyes, small and pretty. Her nose is large and her worst feature. She is smart and entertaining, and I think one of the nicest little bodies in the world; I am sure you will think the same.” “Mamie” writes fluently and elegantly, and tells me she recently lost her youngest brother, twenty years old, in the Southern army. She will not allow Miss Jamison to give me her address, which is really tantalizing. Mr. J. W. Fellows, of Manchester, New Hampshire, writes he has sent me twenty-five dollars, but it has never been received. Such a handsome remittance would be a God-send to me now. I suppose the letter examiner pocketed it.
