"In my memory are associated two scenes connected with the pretty park in which the Distributing Home is situated, scenes that can never be forgotten; first, the long procession of the tired and weary little travellers, wending their way up the carriage-drive, the clear, starlit sky overhead, and the quiet, bright full moon shining down on their upturned faces, as they stood in front of their new home, and sang so earnestly-- 'Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below;' and secondly, on awaking the next morning and looking out, the sight of the whole party scampering about the park, just like so many little wild animals let loose from a cage, rushing about under every tree, as if trying whether their freedom was real. I had to call my sister to look at them; and in mind we carried them back to London at six o'clock in the morning, and felt it was indeed good for them to be thus in Canada. How longingly we wished we could fill the Distributing Home with just such a number every month of the year, for certain it is we could find places and homes for them all." A little later Miss Macpherson wrote:-- "Yesterday afternoon Miss Bilbrough drove us out into the cleared backwoods to visit some of our children. The country was charming; woods and green valleys, with every now and then rich orchards laden with rosy apples; the long Concession roads, forming at times magnificent avenues, in which here and there a maple, which had caught a cold blast, prematurely showed the lovely autumnal tints so peculiar in richness to this country. "Everywhere we called the warmest hospitality was shown us, very like the 'furthy auld kintra folk' of Scotia in days lang syne. "Our first recognition was a boy named Ambrose, of the second detachment; he was busy in the farmyard, but soon, with a bright face, came to the side of our vehicle, telling us he was so happy and well; indeed, it required no words to assure us of this. Our next call was to one of the first settlers of fifty-eight years ago, still living in the house he had at first erected. His dear wife, on hearing of the arrival of the little English orphan children, could not sleep all night, but had her horses put into the team, and drove in to Belleville, and for the Lord's sake, who had been so good to her and hers, took away two, one for herself and one for her married daughter, whose home had never rung with the voice of a little prattler. It was great joy to see that they loved and cared for these little waifs as though they were their very own; my heart alone knowing whence they had been taken, and their little memories still keen as to the awful contrast of former want and this present abundance of food, fruit, and kindness.