Fourth day.—Three miles’ walk to the ruins of Mackay’s Church and house. Banana plantations now extend over his once carefully cultivated garden, a few scattered bricks (the first and only introduction of bricks up to that time in Mengo) point out the place where the foundation of the great invisible Church of Uganda was laid. As one stood there one almost felt surrounded by that crowd of witnesses of whom the world was not worthy. Just to the front is that sacred spot where the first native converts were martyred for their faith. Fifth day.—Visit to the Hospital. I went with the doctor to observe and take notes for future use. The day’s work commenced with a half-hour’s service held in an open outside court. The gate was closed then against those who might come for the medicine without the morning prayers. Some 150 patients were seeking attention this day, and they were allowed into the tiny consulting room five at a time. They evidently have a good idea of anatomy, for they have a word for nearly every bone and gland. Their faith in the white doctor speaks eloquently of the cures he has effected. One man was quite hurt because the surgeon would not take out his liver. On the same day can be fitted in a bicycle ride to the native potteries. Outside a small hut we found two men squatted moulding the soft clay with their hands; a well rounded flint gave a polish to the pot, while a strand of coarsely plaited grass stamped on the soft clay gave a border impress. A huge wood furnace was burning in an adjoining court into which the vessels were placed and baked. We were so interested in this process that the sun had set before we were aware of it, and our ride home was in pitch darkness over the deep rutted roads. I had a nasty fall which suggested that it might be wiser to walk our machines the remainder of the distance. When we reached Mengo sharp pain and swollen ankle told of a sprain. This kept me a prisoner for three days. It was rather providential, for the mail from England came in, and as no letters had reached us since leaving the home shores, just ten weeks ago, a very big budget was handed in to me. Only those who have really experienced it can enter into the awful home-sickness that sometimes a girl feels on her first long separation from England. After some amount of tossing about and roughing it, to be suddenly carried back by a letter into the peace and quiet of the home, and to read all the interesting little natural bits which make you feel once again among the home circle, for a minute, when no one is looking, you may behave like a big baby.