I left a dollar for a subscription to the _New Nation_ for six months. As I was about to leave, said he, with tearful eye: "A select few in this city meet once a week for a prayer-meeting, but I can not attend it in the evening, as it is unsafe for me to be out after dark." I told him I had received a secret invitation, and had attended each meeting since my first knowledge of this praying band. I told him it was one of the most solemn meetings I had ever attended. As in the days of the apostles, we met in an upper room at the hour of prayer, where I had heard the editor of the _New Nation_ remembered. "I know," he said, "that I have friends in this city, and some I know are secretly friends for fear of this bitter spirit that reigns to a fearful extent. Don't forget to pray for me and my family. I dare not bring my wife and daughter to this city." My work kept me here many days. November 25th I spent mostly at the sanitary rooms in Libby Prison, with Miss Morris, a French lady, who served as a spy for the Union generals. Report had it that she was writing a book of her exploits. A soldier told me he saw her a prisoner in Southern hands before the fall of New Orleans. But she managed to make her escape from that city, and in disguise revisited it, and reported to our generals. She could speak French and German better than our own language. She often disguised herself most effectually. Her French politeness would have been quite annoying to me had it not been for the faithful assistance she rendered in seeking out the sick and dying, not hesitating to enter filthy alleys, dark, cold cellars, or with me to climb rickety flights of stairs into dark attics. I have found in almost every place one or more Christian women who kindly offered to assist me, but few would dare visit those filthy places, fearing contagious diseases. Having had the small pox, and all other common contagious diseases, with my very plain habits of living, I dared to visit the sick and dying in any of these loathsome places, many of which I found in Richmond. The next day, being Sunday, was spent as usual in attending Sabbath-schools. I spoke in two of them, and in one meeting. At night I was at Camp Lee Orphanage with Annie Gibbons, the matron, who had an interesting group of little folks. As they gathered around the table, at the tap of the bell, with clasped hands and closed eyes, they repeated the verse: "Lord, teach a little child to pray, Thy grace to me impart," etc. I met a colored man from Raleigh, North Carolina, who gave a few items of Andrew Johnson's early history, in regard to his apprenticeship in tailoring. If there was a dance within reach, black or white, it was all the same to "Andy,"--he was sure to be there. His boss, Mr. Selby, lectured him about his late hours, and to evade these lectures he often "turned in" with Handy Luckett, a steady old slave man, whose bed was in the loft of J. O. Rork's carriage house.