From Aux. $ 38.00 “ Don 258.10 “ L. M. 20.00 “ A. M. 11.00 —————— $327.10 Boxes sent: From Auxiliary in Monson, Mass., to the West $150.00 “ Ladies in Central Ch., Boston, second-hand clothing to Michigan sufferers 8.90 CORRECTION.—In report of W. H. M. A. for September. In Miss Wilson’s diary read, “2d, sent soup,” not soap; and in the last part of the same paragraph read “lunch,” not _land_, given. * * * * * CHILDREN’S PAGE. * * * * * THOMAS CHATHAM. BY MRS. THOS. N. CHASE. About fifteen years ago, a colored boy whom we will call Thomas Chatham helped to swell the flock that followed their white teacher to some tumble-down buildings in Atlanta, Ga. There is a kind of wild delight about the memory of those days, “just after freedom,” when the “old uncles and aunties” as well as the boys and girls endured heat and cold, hunger and rags, inspired by the blissful idea of getting “larnin’” about as they had gotten freedom, “kind o’ sudden like.” When they found their mistake, of course thousands dropped out by the way, but Thomas Chatham was not one of them. When we went South in 1869, he had gotten quite a start. I first saw him in the Congregational Sunday-school at Storrs Chapel, and noticed that whenever the Superintendent asked a question that nobody else could answer, a queer-looking fellow with a very thick tongue usually answered it. In two or three years he was admitted to the preparatory department of Atlanta University. But how the boys did laugh at him! How shocking! some tender-hearted child says. So it is. Many a time my heart has ached for poor Chatham. But you must remember that colored children are no better than white ones, and I am sure you have seen some poor awkward white boy laughed at till perhaps your kind eyes filled with tears. Then I suppose I don’t see the funny side of comical sights so quickly as some, and Thomas Chatham did look queer. Although he is quite short, he has very large feet and broad shoulders, with a big head set nearly flat upon the latter. Then he was very poor, and did not know how to make the best of the poor clothes he had. His shoes were run down at the heel, so that when he walked he shuffled along, lest, I suppose, his shoes should fall off. He learned with great difficulty and made very droll blunders, but he never lost his temper or got out of patience. At the beginning of each year a new set of thoughtless scholars would make fun of his looks and his blunders, till his calm dignity told louder than words that he lived in an atmosphere far above that level where the taunts or esteem of his fellows had much weight.