Looking back at this summer it was a happy one. I was not much confined at home. Somehow I shifted the care of father on Dan. I spent a day now and then with Sophie, the baby was so utterly charming, beginning to say little words that we understood perfectly. Mother Hayne and Chris were also very pleasant. Chris had joined the church in the winter and his inmost desire was to be a clergyman. He had a really beautiful voice. On Sundays I used to stop—there were always some men in to see father—and sitting out on the old porch, much renovated and rose grown now, we used to sing the old Methodist hymns that I can never hear without the tears coming into my eyes.
"Oh, how happy are they
Who their Saviour obey,
And have laid up their treasure above,"
and
"Come thou fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing thy grace,
Streams of mercy without ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise,"