Her friends visited her and appeared satisfied though sorrowful, and after being with us one year, her friends arranged that she should be an indoor-patient at St. Luke’s Hospital, an institution in London, for the treatment of such cases; she was there for one year, and ultimately was removed to Melton Asylum, her last earthly residence. Now is coming on the construction of a new railroad from Lowestoft to Reedham. Great preparations are being made, materials, and men, and horses, and implements, are deposited in the locality, besides temporary dwellings for the overlookers and gangers; we in this neighbourhood never having seen the like. It was a marvellous undertaking, but day by day we witnessed the skilful operations of the workmen, several of whom made their place of rest with us during the time the work was in progress, my wife cooking for them day by day, and otherwise preparing their food and making their beds. Mr. Denniss, having built the rectory house, the school, appointed teachers, removed old buildings and various other things by way of improvement in our parish, to him assigned. In 1845, his effects were sold by public auction, and the man and his family took their departure after a brief stay of nine years. He was succeeded by Chas. Henry Cox, an earnest, solemn clergyman, whose aim was to “point us to brighter worlds, and lead the way.” He was the father of a large family, but his gentle and kind christian bearing told powerfully upon the minds of the people under his charge. The dangerous operations of making the railroad was carried on, one of my lodgers was killed while making the road. I made a note of it at the time of the occurrence, which is this: Inquest held at Mr. Beaumont’s, Mutford Bridge, before J. E. Sparrowe, Esq., August 20th, 1846, on the body of John Smith, my esteemed lodger, who was unfortunately killed by a railroad waggon accidently passing over his body, on Tuesday, the 18th, a sad and painful event to those who witnessed it. In February of the following year, my wife’s mother was taken suddenly ill, and after a few hours expired, leaving a sorrowful family to mourn their loss, a mysterious dispensation of Divine Providence, unfathomable to us short-sighted mortals, but loudly speaking to all who have ears to hear, “Arise, depart, for this is not your rest.”