"A last summer's letter from the little mother of the Post Office Mission, who has just died in Cincinnati, will be of interest now. Some who were present at the last May Conference in St. Louis may remember the pathos of the quiet figure sitting in the front pews and trying on her echo-fan to catch the patter of the words said round her. The wee, sick, deafened body in which she did her work so strong-heartedly makes that work all the more an example and an inspiration. Strange enough should it prove that this bit of a lady, almost caged from the world by cripplings, had opened the most effective channel yet made for carrying our liberal faith to the world. Perhaps it _takes_ a thorn in the flesh to make a missionary. She certainly has done more than many a stout _son_ of the Gospel to keep her name remembered in our Western churches. This letter hints her pluck and her joy in the work, and the struggle of it. She had been urged to go into the country for a short rest, but replied:-- The country is not the place for me to stay in any time. The morning and evening air keep my head roaring so, and increase catarrh. I have learned that to stay home during the summer, make no special effort, and work on slowly, is the better plan. If I go away, there is constantly an effort over something. I return tired, work has accumulated. I have to work doubly hard, and soon use up the little gained. I am too weak in summer to wish to come in contact with people to whom I have to be agreeable. Another difficulty,--the country is too _quiet_ for me. I am inclined to be a "hermit," and when I do go out, which I do daily, even now I am so sick, I need the stir, bustle, commotion, and the stores to change the thoughts. I loved the country before I was so deaf,--now city life is better for me; but I love to refresh myself by a ride into the country in the street cars, where I can study _human_ nature on the way.... I work on principle, and for the real love of working. I am not happy unless at work, and can't bear to tear myself away from my little congregation, my papers, books, etc. _They_ suffer for it. The family do not wish me to keep so busy, but I am better for it, and my physician is on my side. "Keep up!" [The next few sentences have already been given, in reference to Mr. Noyes.] Don't give me undue credit for my appearance at the St. Louis Conference. I tried to kill three birds with one stone (I don't wear bird's wings in my hat, however),--to attend the Conference, visit a brother, and gain strength. The last I failed in.... I have written this long letter in two sittings. I have improved decidedly within the past few days, and with pleasant rides and good food and care shall soon be better. Most sincerely