nothing to fasten it up with, and I arranged the handkerchief to cover
it. I began to feel happy with the thought of going home. I tried to
cheer them, and they could not help smiling at me. I wondered they were
not ashamed of me, I looked so badly. I told them not to call me
mother, to say I was old Mrs. Sinnett; that they were bringing me home
to my friends.

Poor boys, I wonder if they remember that journey in the cars as I do.
At my request, Tom brought me a goblet of milk, at two stopping places,
and when I found they had brought me to an Asylum I felt no fear; I
thought I had only to ask and receive what I needed. I knew they thought
me crazy, so I would not bid them good-bye, when they left me, but
concluded to play lunatic. I refused to kiss Lewis when he left me, that
dear boy who had watched over me so faithfully, carrying me in his arms
from one car to the other. When we changed cars, he placed me in a
Pullman car, and I thought I was safely hidden from something, I knew
not what. I only know I was so happy while I was with my sons; nothing
troubled me. I sang and chatted to Lewis; he would not leave me a
moment; he kneeled beside my berth, and I called him my best of sons,
and smoothed his hair with my hand. All my journey through I heard the
voice of angels whispering to me, "Hold on by the hand of your sons;
keep them with you and you will be safe; they are your sons, they are
the sons of God,"--and they are. All who do their duty as they were
doing, to the best of their ability, are the children of God; for, if we
do the best we can, angels can do no more.

I thought I was perfectly safe here, and if the Doctor had given me the
food which should be given to an invalid, or if he had granted any
requests I made to him in a reasonable manner, I should not have been
prompted to write these lines or recall those memories of the past.