Old Mrs. H. was at her ironing board, with heaps of snowy linen about her. Only a few days ago she was “a sinner woman.” To-day she sang quietly “I’ve been redeemed,” and her face sang, too. Sister F.’s house is my Valley of Baca. I stopped a moment for a cooling draught. Little street children followed for Sunday-school papers. At least fifty were distributed, and a word about the Crucified One dropped among as many children. Some of them sat down under the trees to thoughtfully study the picture of Christ blessing little children, and one said, “See. See, dat misses knows ol about it.” The next was the “people’s hour.” From one to two each day they come for old clothes and new teaching. Then came the Northern mail; afterwards the students’ mid-week prayer-meeting. Here teachers and scholars are co-workers, and each strengthened by the others’ prayers. Baptized anew, I sought the abodes of poverty and wretchedness. Sinning women turned their eyes for the moment from the king of the carnival to the King of Heaven. The Chinamen were very busy, but Yam stopped to say, “I bring more boyee next Sunday.” Little Joe darted round the corner to ask, “Gwine to have Sunday-school to-day, teacher?” Poor little Joe doesn’t see any difference in the days, and reckons Sunday from the Sunday-school. Passing the large market, I bought a few delicious oranges for the dying man in the attic of an ill-famed house, and hurried on, for night was coming. There was no need to hurry. The attic was empty, but “out of the depths” of sin the Lord heard the cry. Prayers at the Orphanage closed the day, while the carnival lights made night in the old city seem beautiful morning. Where has the day gone? Into to-morrow’s past. Who noted its flight? The recording Angel. When will its history be read? In that Great Day, when Aunt Patience and little Joe, and all who came between, shall stand side by side with missionary and teacher, and shall say, “We b’lieves, ’cause we’se dun taught,” and they shall add, “We taught, because we were sent.” DAY’S EXPERIENCE AMONG THE CHINESE. _By Jee Gam, San Francisco._