had a very severe shower, and it was so dark we could not see the
black-boards or see to work, so I let them sing for nearly an hour. All
over the building, if you could have visited the different rooms, you
would have enjoyed listening to them. One of their own pieces which
they like to sing, is "Roll, Jordan, roll." They pronounce it "Jurdon."

Many of the parents are working very hard to give their children an
education, and I am glad to say that the children themselves are glad
to learn. One little girl said, "I've got on a _terrible_ bad
looking shoe, and the big girls out doors were laughing at me
yesterday, but I thought I'd rather come to school with the bad shoe,
than stay away a day and not come at all. I pray every day that God
will help me to do right and be a good girl in school. Last night papa
was out of a job, and I prayed that he might get another one, and now
he's got another one." Then looking at her shoes, she said: "I'd rather
wear these ragged shoes than not to pay for my schooling at all."

And now, children, will you come with me for a little drive? We are
going in a phaeton with our good horse, Maud. We drive about a mile out
of the city, cross a little bridge, and finally drive through a
gateway. The ground is sandy, in some places so white that it almost
reminds one of snow. The trees are still green. Our attention is
attracted by a procession moving slowly forward. There is one carriage
and the friends, men and women, are walking. The words they are
chanting show it to be a funeral procession. Every one wears a green
badge, for most all the colored people belong to some order. Finally
they come to a stop and gather about the grave. The mourners break out
into a wail, and they begin to chant the words: "And must my trembling
spirit glide into a world unknown?" The chant I can never describe, for
there is no music in it, and we cannot distinguish any tune. Then the