With what interest did we view the little wooden cabins that lay along the shores of the river on the Kentucky side, and along the slopes of her hills! What tales of grief and joy those dear little homes could have told if they had been able to speak. My two dear children were awed into silence as they looked upon the passing scenes, for they had both read "Uncle Tom’s Cabin," and many other plaintive books besides; and heard from us and from others a thousand tales of slavery in days gone by. Many eyes besides our own were wet with tears of love, sorrow and emotion, as we viewed those little cabin homes, and saw the lights that night on the "Old Kentucky Shore" of the poet, and in our hearts we thanked the Lord that slavery here had indeed passed away forever. It has been often a wonder to me that the Lord allowed the curse to continue so long; but then He knows what is for the best, and I am always willing to take things on trust that I cannot understand. "The Lord is good; a stronghold in the day of trouble, and He knoweth them who put their trust in Him." How true, how very true, indeed! We called at no place on our way, but at the beautiful little city of Madison, Indiana, that lies so sweet-looking in the edge of the Ohio river. Quite a goodly number of our own beloved people came on board here, whom we rejoiced to see. It was the same old, old story that I have told before. They were going to Louisville to swell the mighty throng, and help sing the songs of the ransomed of the Lord during the forthcoming celebration at that city. After we left Madison, we all retired to bed for the night, and we were not long in falling into a sound sleep. The night passed away, on flew the waves of the beautiful river with our fleet boat on their bosom, rushing on for the general rendezvous, and about four o’clock in the morning our gallant craft tied up at the landing-place at Louisville, the metropolis of Kentucky.