I procured lodging with a widow Johnson and her son, who was with Captain John Brown's party all through the border-ruffian troubles. My kind friend regretted my having made the mile and a half walk to the log-house in the field and back to the post-office before supper, as I had not taken refreshments since leaving Leavenworth, very early. But when I told her of the distress I found, she rejoiced with me at the partial relief I had given them. After a good rest and an early breakfast, I went with the kind postmaster to visit the most wretched tenements of both white and colored, and found eighty-one to report for rations to the commander in Wyandotte. The postmaster and Mr. Johnson agreed to go with their team every week and distribute to the destitute; and if others were found equally needy they would report them to me on my return. After descending steep cliffs and climbing rugged rocks until past noon, we returned for dinner; but before it was finished the stage came along, and I took it for Wyandotte, where we arrived late in the evening. The weather for October was cold, and freezing quite hard. When I informed Mrs. Halford, the landlady of the Garno House, of my errand, she was much pleased, and said that her duties forbade her to assist me, but she would do her part in giving me a welcome home while in their town. She introduced me to a family of benevolent ladies, who promised to aid me in my investigations, but did not think I would find the suffering in their city that I found in Quindaro. One of my new friends went with me to a neighborhood where there were new arrivals, and found many in a perishing condition with cold and hunger. From thence we went to old stables and sheds crowded with destitute human beings, both white and colored. The dear friend who volunteered to guide to these children of want wept herself sick as we listened to the stories of their flight from homes in Missouri and Arkansas. Here was a woman, named Melinda Dale, with six small children and a sick husband, who had to flee for their lives. A few pieces of old tent-cloth, picked up about an old camp, made their bed. Children were crying for bread, the mother was sick with grief, and the father had a high fever. A blanket was given them, with a few loaves of bread; and after the reading of Scripture and prayer we left for the relief of others.