I spent a few days in revisiting Quindaro, Lawrence, Wyandotte, and Kansas City. I found seven homeless children, and a mother of three of them who wished to go with me to Michigan. During the day and night I was in Kansas City I was taken with a severe attack of pneumonia. I called on an army surgeon for mustard, of which, I placed a plaster over the seat of the pain, that had become so severe as to cut every breath. I could neither lie down nor sit still, but walked the room. Placing the children in charge of the mother, I telegraphed my sergeant to meet me at the boat with a hack. I took the boat for Leavenworth, where the carriage met me, and I was taken to our home, with a high fever, but the pain not quite so severe, as the mustard was serving its purpose. Dr. Carpenter said I could not go to Michigan under a month. Although my side remained very sore, yet I managed to sell the furniture. I took a hack to General Curtis's office, and managed to secure transportation for seventy-five, myself and Mrs. Lee included. There were three sick children, and I very much doubted the propriety of removing them. Dr. Carpenter said they would be more likely to live than if taken to the hospital, as I proposed. We left the city May 28th, with a cloud resting over the nation. My health was still poor, and we had three sick children, whose mother was with them; three other children began to complain of chills and fever soon after leaving. These cases soon developed in measles, but my haste to reach home urged me to proceed against my better judgment. While it looked like presumption in others, I felt safe, as prayer for guidance was my daily bread. While waiting at St. Joseph, Missouri, for the train, I obtained rations for the company. Susan B. Anthony had provided a lunch-basket, well filled, for Mrs. Lee and myself, to serve for the entire journey. While we were handing around rations, various remarks were made as to what I was going to do with all this company. Said one, "I reckon, she's got a big plantation to stock with a picked set of young niggers, she's going to train to her own liking." Said another, "I am going to ask where she is going with them." At length one ventured, "Will you please excuse me, madam, if I ask you where you are taking all this company?" "Certainly," was my answer; "I am glad to inform you. I am taking these orphan children, who have been picked up on the streets, and out of freedmen's homes, to an orphan school in Michigan. By order of the State Freedmen's Aid Commission, they will be sent to school until good homes can be secured for them, where they will be taught habits of industry, as well as to improve their intellects. We of the North think they can learn, if an opportunity is provided."