school has not been interrupted, as half-hour meetings only have been
held, morning and noon. We rejoice greatly in this work that crowns and
confirms all the other work of the school.

* * * * *


EVERY-DAY LIFE.

MRS. A.W. CURTIS.

Put on your best glasses, dear friends, and take a peep at the regular,
every-day life of some of the workers among the colored people South.

Rap, rap, rap.

"Come in!"

It is a toil-worn, sad-faced woman, with hard, bony hands, and that look
of patient endurance that is so pathetic. She is poorly clad, with only
a thin bit of an old shawl around her shoulders, and a hat so
disreputable that she instantly removes it, and drops it behind her on
the floor. After a few kindly words of greeting, she tells her story. A
sickly husband, deranged for the last nine years of his life, whom she
had to support and care for; a daughter who married a wretch who treated
her so cruelly that she, too, lost her mind, when he left her entirely,
with their child. She kept the daughter confined to bed or chair, while
she worked out as cook, to support them all. She had several other
children. Finally the crazy daughter got away, and she does not know
whether she is dead or alive.