"My Dear Husband.—The children and I took the train at Buffalo and came here two weeks ago, to pay a long-promised visit to the Gibsons at 'Richmond Hill’ farm, which lies in the county of Oxford some ten or twelve miles from the nearest station on the railroad. We left Buffalo early in the morning, and thus had the whole day before us, and plenty of leisure to look at the highly cultivated country through which we passed. The country was truly delightful all the way to Ingersoll, were we got out of the train, and where one of the Gibsons met us with a buggy. We all got in, and the children and I were greatly pleased with the charming country all around us, the farms being in such a high state of cultivation. But it was not all farming land that we passed through, for our way in one place led us through the forest, where the squirrels were running in perfect freedom overhead in the branches, and we could hear the woodman’s axe ringing both far and near and bringing down the tall trees. After we had come about ten miles, we saw ’Richmond Hill’ high up on the rising ground on the far side of a very narrow valley, that ran down to the cypress swamp away on our right hand. So we issued out of the woods on the top of the hill we were now descending, made our way along the creek at the bottom for a little distance to the right, and then we opened a big country gate and made our way up through the fields to the farm house door. While the girls and I were looking around at the grand view presented on all hands to our astonished eyes, the front house door opened, and out came Mrs. Gibson and her two daughters, and as many of the sons as were at home at the time of our arrival. They helped us out of the buggy, kissed and embraced us most rapturously, and gave us a very warm, hearty and enthusiastic welcome. (My whole soul fairly grows warm when I think of that welcome among the good Canadians). So they brought us into their nice house, which reminded me of the ’Palace Beautiful’ in the Pilgrim’s Progress. I had a little room for myself on a wing of the house. They called my room the ’Guest Chamber,’ and it was a snug room with a pretty name I am sure. The girls slept in another small room near my own. Our things were all brought into the house and well disposed of within reach, and we felt most thoroughly at home among a kind people whose loving ways filled me and the girls with surprise. Mr. Gibson himself came home during the day, and gave us a warm welcome to Richmond Hill, and we saw the whole family with the exception of two who were not at home at that time. "The friends and neighbors round about heard of our arrival and came to see us, and to invite me and the girls to pay them a visit as soon as ever we were able to do so. Indeed, had I known of the beauty and enchantment of this place and such a kind family, I would have been here long ago, never you fear!