make the fires. I can hear him now saying: "Christmas Gif' Mister Sam,
Chris'mus Gif' Miss Bettie!" and the children are flying around in
their night clothes wild with excitement. Down in the sitting room the
stockings make a circle around the room and underneath each is a pile
of gifts. I can see the big log fire, and the sparkle of it in the old
book-case, and in the long glass between the windows. And in a few
minutes here you all come, you uncles and you cousins and you aunts,
trooping in with the smallest first. And such laughing, and shouting,
and rejoicing! and maybe in the midst of the fun somebody speaks of
me, and there's a little hush, and a little longing, then the fun goes
on more furiously than ever.

Well even if I am on the wrong side of the earth in body, I am not in
spirit, and I reach my arms clear around the world and cry "God bless
you, every one."



HIROSHIMA, March, 1903.


I have a strong conviction that I am going to swear before I get
through this letter, for this pen is what I would call, to use
unmissionary language, devilish. My! how familiar and wicked that word
looks! I've heard so many hymns and so much brotherly and sisterly
talk that it seems like meeting an old friend to see it written!

Here it is nearly cherry-blossom time again, and the days and the
weeks are slipping away into months before I know it. I am working at
full speed and wonder sometimes how I keep up. But I don't dare leave