each other. I hardly know whether that, or anything, could
have made me more forlorn. I was already stiff and weary with
the twelve hours of travelling we had gone through that day;
inexpressibly weary in heart. It seemed to me that I could not
endure long the rumble and the jar and the closeness of this
last car. The passengers, too, had habits which made me draw
my clothes as tight around me as I could, and shrink away
mentally into the smallest compass possible. I had noticed the
like, to be sure, ever since we left Washington; but to-night,
in my weary, faint, and tired-out state of mind and body,
every unseemly sight or sound struck my nerves with a sense of
pain that was hardly endurable. I wondered if the train would
go on all night; it went very slowly. And I noticed that
nobody seemed impatient or had the air of expecting that it
would soon find its journey's end. I felt as if I could not
bear it many half hours. My next neighbour was a fat, good-
natured old lady, who rather made matters worse by putting her
arm round me and hugging me up, and begging me to make a
pillow of her and go to sleep. My nerves were twitching with
impatience and the desire for relief; when suddenly the
thought came to me that I might please the Lord by being
patient. I remember what a lull the thought of Him brought;
and yet how difficult it was not to be impatient, till I fixed
my mind on some Bible words, — they were the words of the
twenty-third psalm, — and began to think and pray them over.
So good they were, that by and by they rested me. I dropped
asleep and forgot my aches and weariness until the train
arrived at Baytown.

They took me to a hotel then, and put me to bed, and I did not