.MTExNw.Nzg5MzY

of going to church was still in my possession. As I entered our gate I heard music & singing. It issued from our sitting room; -- the song that greeted me was one of my own efforts; even this -- "Wandering Home." Sister Della had company; & I quickly recognized that voices that were singing my favorite song. I love to hear it sung -- therefore, just at that moment, it was a pleasing unclear to me. I was only in time to hear the last stanza & the chorus. But this was sufficient to tell me that, in my absence my words were brought forth & sung. It is in this way that I hope that each of my song-efforts will live on in coming years; that they will be sung, now & then, long after the mind that conceived them & crippled hand that wrote out each simple word, shall compose & write no more!

Wednesday Afternoon, May 3rd-- When I wrote my last paragraph I did not think that three weeks would come & go before I should open my little Journal again for the purpose of writing out another. But it us even so. Facts are stern things, & he who attempts to unclear them has a difficult task to achieve. Relative to my past negligence, however, I have this to say in my own defence. that it is not because I have "run ashore," as the saying is, for