No one knowing Miss Ellis could read the touching little story of "Miss Toosey's Mission" without being struck by a resemblance in the characters, though a resemblance with a marked difference. As one said, "I never saw her going up the church aisle Sundays, with her audiphone, her little satchel, her bundle of books and papers, and her hymn-book, without thinking of Miss Toosey." In both lives a seemingly powerless and insignificant personality, through the force of a great yearning to do a bit of God's work in the world, achieved its longing far beyond its fondest dreams. As I read the many letters from all over the country that have come since Miss Ellis's death, as I realize how the spiritual force that burned in the soul of this small, feeble, seemingly helpless woman reached out afar and touched many lives for their enduring ennoblement, her life, so meagre and cramped in its outward aspect, so vivid and intense within and on paper, seems to me not without a touch of romance. To perpetuate a little longer the influence of that life is the object of this sketch. * * * * * SALLIE ELLIS was born in Cincinnati, March 13, 1835. The old-fashioned name Sallie, at that time popular in the South and West, was given her in honor of an aunt. She disliked sailing under the false colors of "Sarah." In letters she usually signed herself "S. Ellis," because, as she explained to one correspondent, "I do not know myself as _Sarah_, and Sallie is not dignified enough in writing to strangers; so I usually prefer plain S." Late in life, however, for reasons of dignity, she sometimes felt forced to adopt Sarah as what she called her "official signature."