Nothing was omitted. Every conceivable article of clothing for men, women, and children was there. Numberless blankets, sheets, needles, cottons, pins, tapes, new stockings with the proper-coloured mending pinned on, and boots and shoes galore. The things in themselves depicted the thought and care with which they had been selected, showing the sympathy of the people of Great Britain, from the poorest to the richest, with the unfortunate sufferers. Amongst other things were razors and pipes. There were even braces, slippers, fur coats, hairpins, sleeping-socks, and amongst it all came a parcel of most useful things, amongst which were hidden a dozen copies of the _Christian World_. Did the dear old body who sent them imagine that the Sicilian peasants could read an English tract? One lady wrote she “is sending a case weighing four hundredweight, and as it contains seven hundred garments, she thinks it might go as it stands.” It did; God bless her. Really it was a study in parcels. Some were so beautifully done up that one marvelled at the dexterity of amateur hands which tied the string; others were disgracefully bundled together; and in one or two cases labels arrived saying they had been found without any parcels attached. Many people had carefully sorted the things into bundles and written outside, “Complete outfit for a man,” “Complete outfit for a woman,” “For a peasant child,” or “For a well-born little girl.” Several people in different parts of England offered to get up working-parties, and asked for suggestions for making suitable garments. A Manchester manufacturer of flannel said he was willing to give all that was required, and his workpeople would give the time if I let them know what to make, but as his letter did not arrive until twenty-five thousand things had gone, I did not feel able to begin over again. Dressmakers and shops sent contributions. Several sent parcels in great haste. Poor dears, they imagined there would be one crate—my “one box on Friday” became a veritable joke. A lady sent a sack containing clothes, and kindly requested that I would let her have the sack back. I did return several portmanteaux, suit-cases, washing-baskets, and even hold-alls, but when it came to a sack—— The crowd which collected in the street was both pathetic and humorous. I remember two shabby little urchins of eight and ten looking with longing eyes at the warm clothing, and the younger one remarked: “I say, Bob, what a pity we wasn’t blowd up in that earthquake!” A friend noticed a couple of unusual parcels being handed in at the door and quietly put into one of the cases. On rushing to investigate, she found that one contained my best drawing-room curtains returned from the cleaners, and the other a cake for afternoon tea.