Our hotel was right on the beach, and when sitting on the upper porch one could see beyond the waters of the bay far out on the “great sea.” It was quite pleasant to sit there and watch the ships in the distance as they glided over the water. I remarked, “How very smooth and quiet the sea is to-day. Surely a pleasant time to board the ship is in store for us.” A missionary lady replied, “Possibly by two o’clock the sea will be very wild.” And I thought it could hardly be possible, for sailing time was near at hand. Having nothing else to do I decided to watch the sea. Away off in the distance a breaker rolled up; by and by a few more were seen; and then I thought the lady knew what she was talking about, for one by one the white-capped waves broke upon the shore before me, and the ship, which was anchored perhaps a mile out, was made to move about uneasily. When the hour of departure drew near seventeen people besides the boatmen took seats in two rowboats. The men rowed toward the ship with a will, while the water dashed about the little boats ladened with precious freight. The ship was gained in safety; shortly after the whistle blew, and we were on our way home. Many times we had longed for the day when our faces would be turned in the direction of home, and now a silent prayer for safety was breathed. The sea voyage was rather a pleasant one, and in due time we reached Smyrna, where many of our traveling companions took ship for Constantinople and the rest of us went on to Trieste. The first day of May we took passage on the steamship Werra, and for six days she rolled and pitched because of a terrible storm on the Atlantic. Of course I was seasick, and for three days ate not a mouthful of food. When the storm subsided my desire for food returned, and from that on I was able to go on deck. Eleven days were spent at sea, and not one day was it quiet. When we landed at New York our hearts were full of gratitude to the Lord for his tender, watchful care over us; for we were conscious of his presence all the way and knew he would bring us home safely. Now, dear children, the task which was undertaken so reluctantly is ended. Yet I cannot refrain from saying the work grew to be a pleasure to me; and now it is given to you with the thought and hope that some little word may have been written which will lead you to seek a better life. Some one has said, “It is the greatest pleasure of living, to win souls to Christ.” And should I be the instrument by which one boy or girl is brought to Christ, my labor has not been in vain. And now may the kind Heavenly Father bless you and keep your tender feet from treading the paths of sin and wickedness. [Illustration: THE END.]