We find men who were reckless and bad ready to listen to God's Word, and in broken voices asking for prayers. We find women who have lived lives of open shame penitent and contrite, showing by their abandonment of their evil ways that they are sincere when they say, oh so earnestly, "We uns air tryin' ter do right." But all is not so encouraging. We must visit homes where vice reigns supreme; where women are lost to shame, and glory in their sin; where even the children have the "trail of the serpent" upon their young faces; where the men are brutal and beastly, and even sickness does not _touch_ them. Let us call at this old log house as we pass; nestled under a high cliff, with the creek flowing past, it looks like some ugly blot on the "face of nature." But it is a _school-house_. There is no window, no chimney, only a hole in the side of the house, opening into a sort of pen of rocks, in which the fire is built; an admirable arrangement to send all the heat out of doors, and the smoke into the house. Several rough benches (that do not invite to ease or comfort) and an ancient chair complete the furniture of the room. Several boards painted black form the "blackboards." Here we find two tattered urchins and three tiny girls, whose faces have evidently not made the acquaintance of soap and water for some days. The teacher is one of the advanced pupils of our academy--a bright young man, who will attend our school when his is completed. We ask where the rest of the scholars are. "Pulling fodder or stripping cane," is the reply. And the children have to work so much in the fields that they seldom have the chance of attending school. Out of fifty or sixty scholars only a very few ever attend these public schools. But it is growing late, and we have a long, rough way before us, so we spur on toward home, reaching it just as the glow of the sunset dies away from the last distant peak and the dusky twilight settles down over the whole land. A hurried supper and then to the church prayer meeting. Here are gathered quite a number, and we have a very good meeting, feeling the presence of our Saviour in our midst. So closes one of our days, and wearied in body, but refreshed and strengthened in spirit, we go to rest. * * * * * SOUTHERN FIELD NOTES. REV. GEORGE W. MOORE.