"One great pleasure of the children was to roam over the Home under the orchard blossoms, glancing over the books of photographs and recognising some friend or mate with whom some far different days had been spent. Among the attractions were the tables of toys, pictures, books, &c., sent out by English friends; and here the little ones spent some of their hoarded cents, thinking so much of anything really English. About twelve o'clock we gathered in the flower garden in front, while sandwiches, buns, and milk were passed round among the children. Your sister sat with them chatting to them of old times, and answering many questions as to former companions and still loved though often silent English friends. Can you picture the eager listeners to the familiar voice of one who was to them the link between the sorrowful past and the happy future?--a Bible lesson on the lost sheep. My eyes often filled with tears when I looked at their bright faces, and blessed God for the open door for them in this country. There stood Jamie D--, who, with his little brother Hughie, formed one of the saddest photographs of childish wretchedness even Glasgow streets could produce; so bright, so well-dressed, though still with a little of the old look of childish care. William C--, the little fellow of four years old, whose mother died in India, and the father on his return sank in a London hospital, leaving little Willie friendless, was here with a lovely bunch of hot-house flowers ready to present to Miss Macpherson, and to receive from her one of the beautifully illustrated scrap-books made by little English children. Willie has been nearly three years in his happy home, surrounded by all the influences of education and refinement. "Now the friends were gathering thickly, and listened while an earnest address was given to the boys by Miss Macpherson. When she ceased, first one and then another gentleman stood up and gave their earnest, hearty sympathy with and approval of the work, and of the character of the boys. And here I must tell you, in passing, we attribute much to the loving, tender training of your Hampton Home. It is not that Canadian farmers would put up with _anything_, or that a bad boy is so useful that his faults are overlooked; for here every single boy is thoroughly known, and discussed over all the country side. Mr. Grover, from the village of Colborne, quite cheered our hearts with the good accounts of the twenty in his neighbourhood, most of whom have joined his classes, and by their steady industrious conduct are recommending themselves.