opportunities for the employment of young people, his wife consented,
although it was hard for her to part from old friends and associations.
But she hoped that in a strange city, where the past was unknown, her
husband might begin life afresh and succeed. The family went south in
1859, and entered on a period of struggle and hardship. The money
realised by the sale of the furniture melted away, and the new house
was bare and comfortless, Mr. Slessor continued his occupation as a
shoemaker, and then became a labourer in one of the mills.

The youngest child, Janie, was born in Dundee. All the family were
delicate, and it was not long before Mary was left with only two
sisters and a brother--Susan, John, and Janie. Mrs. Slessor's fragility
prevented her battling successfully with trial and misfortune, but no
children could have been trained with more scrupulous care. "I owe a
great debt of gratitude to my sainted mother," said Mary, long
afterwards. Especially was she solicitous for their religious well-
being. On coming to Dundee she had connected herself with Wishart
Church in the east end of the Cowgate, a modest building, above a
series of shops near the Port Gate from the parapets of which George
Wishart preached during the plague of 1544. Here the children were sent
to the regular services--with a drop of perfume on their handkerchiefs
and gloves and a peppermint in their pockets for sermon-time--and also
attended the Sunday School.

Mary's own recollection of herself at this period was that she was "a
wild lassie." She would often go back in thought to these days, and
incidents would flash into memory that half amused and half shamed her.
Some of her escapades she would describe with whimsical zest, and
trivial as they were they served to show that, even then, her native
wit and resource were always ready to hand. But very early the Change