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The Lady of the Decoration by [pseud.] Frances Little
page 83 of 119 (69%)
"Cows milk and Retailed."

Since writing you last, I have sent my little sick girl home. It
almost broke us all up, but she couldn't stay here alone during the
summer and there was nobody to take care of her. I write to her every
week and try to keep her cheered up, but for such as she there is only
one release and that is death.

If Jack's hospital ever materializes, I am going to offer my services
as a nurse. This poor child's plight has taken such a hold upon me
that I long to do something for all the sick waifs in creation.



HIROSHIMA, June, 1904.


It is Sunday afternoon, and your Foreign Missionary Kindergarten
Teacher, instead of trudging off to Sunday School with the other
teachers, is recklessly sitting in dressing gown and slippers with her
golden hair hanging down her hack, writing letters home. After
teaching all week, and listening for two hours to a Japanese sermon
Sunday morning, I cross my fingers on teaching Sunday School in the
afternoon.

This past week I have been trying to practice the simple life. It was
a good time for we had spring cleaning, five guests, daily
prayer-meetings, two new cooks, and an earthquake. I think by the time
I get through, I'll be qualified to run a government on some small
Pacific Isle.
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