"He said, 'I do not speak without personal experience. W. O—- has been two years in my employ, and a more truthful, upright, honest boy, I would not wish to have; he has left now to learn further about farming, and I immediately applied for another one from Marchmont, and believe W. S—- will prove as successful and honest a servant.' Then the Rev. William Bell stood up and bore testimony to your favourite Tommy—one of the rescues from Mr. Holland's Shelter, in 1869. 'I have boarded now over a year in the good farmer's home, where Tommy S—-lives. He is as good, and truthful, and honest a boy as I would wish to have about a house; and his master so appreciates his services that he gives him fifty dollars for his first year. These boys are in every way a blessing, and advantage to our country.' Mr. V., who has been already alluded to, said, 'I sought guidance and direction from the Lord before I came to the Home, now nearly three years ago, and then I only intended to take one boy; I have never regretted I took two. Except one or two days, they have never missed school; indeed I do not believe any one could hire them to stay away. I know that their labour morning and evening repays me for any expense I am at, and they can be at school all the time.' Miss Macpherson then told these two boys, F—- and T—-, of her last visit to their grandmother in the tidy attic in Bethnal Green, and how pleased she was to receive the five dollars they had sent her. Mr. Ward, a farmer from Sidney, had brought his little boy, Tommy S—-; and Johnnie, the brother, had come from a home across the Bay of Quinte. So there was a touching meeting, and many experiences for the two brothers to relate, during one month's absence. Mr. Ward told how he intended to educate his boy, and trusted he might yet fill some prominent position, for which by natural gifts he seemed well qualified. Speaking of the religious character of the work, he said, 'I asked him who had taught him so much of Jesus? He told me he did not even know who He was till he was taken into the Refuge; but now he knows about Him, and of His love for little children.' I know you will like to hear particulars of H. W—-, whose sad history excited so much sympathy, and for whom the noble-man's little son gave up his pet pony that he might have the money to emigrate him. Well, you could not tell the round-faced, happy boy, to be the same. He brought four dollars he had earned towards his passage money; is in a good home, and doing well. Also of George and Mary F—-, who met, after ten months' separation, so changed that they hardly recognised each other. How it would cheer their kind rescuer's heart (Mr. George Holland) could he see them now! but I knew nothing, not even such joy as this, could tempt him away from his special work; so I sent the children, to their great delight, to the town to get their likenesses taken to send him.
"Altogether the day was a most happy one. But no onlooker could fully understand the deep, rich joy of looking into those happy faces. Only those who had watched over and prayed with them from the beginning could at all enter into this peculiar feeling; and many earnest prayers ascended that these loving, tender hearts might be won for the Saviour, and from among them many ambassadors for Jesus might yet go forth. And for you too, dear friend, that you may be strengthened and helped; ever remembering the promise, 'Cast thy bread upon the waters; for thou shalt find it after many days' (Eccles. xi. i).—Yours, in sweet work for the Lord,
"Ellen A. Bilbrough."
"My very dear Sister,—Could you but see me this morning, started on my peregrinations in these snowy regions, you would be amazed. The poor worn head perfectly well, after a whole week in the quiet, restful Home at Knowlton, where children are being trained, sewing-meetings and Bible-readings held, farmers conversed with, and my privilege has been to hold up the hands of my two companions, who went forth to address Sunday-schools or to preach the gospel.
"Fancy me starting yesterday morning, fixed up in my delightfully warm fur cloak, and many other ingenious devices, to defy the cold, wintry blast, a drive of eighteen miles. During the journey we stopped twice. The first time we met with one of our once poor, pale-faced rescues, Katie D—-. What a change, now happy and useful, compared to the time when we sheltered her from the dreaded return of her drunken father from prison!
"As the night closed in, the cold caused us to hasten to our journey's end as quickly as the strength of our Home horse would admit of. But cheery was it to be told by our friend, as we passed one farmhouse after another, 'We have a boy here and a girl there doing well.' Sometimes it would be, 'We have had to move a boy; his temper did not suit; but since he has been back to the Home, and placed out again with a firmer master, he is doing much better.' A very hearty Canadian welcome awaited us. Ushered into a warm room, our wraps taken off, soon we were seated, enjoying a 'high' tea. It snowed all night, and drifted in at every crevice of our bedroom window.
"Snow fell all day, and to my idea it seemed improbable for many to gather for a meeting. The village street was enlivened all day by the constant passing of the sleighs, with merry jingle of bells. It was indeed a new scene to witness the gathering of a meeting to hear of the orphan and destitute children, whose cause we had come to plead, and contradict a report which had gone forth in their district, that it was a mass of jail-birds we had brought from England.
"As we arrived, a farmer kindly offered to broom the snow from our feet—a process all seemed prepared to do for each other. Then, in a good-sized hall, about fifty of all ages gathered around an immense stove—ministers, doctors, and farmers, with their belongings. Chairs in front of the stove were set for the minister and myself.
"After singing 'Rock of Ages,' etc., and prayer, it was so like a family, that it became easy just to tell real story after story as to how we find the children, where the means come from, and what is required of those who receive them.
"The minister then present was one who, having heard of the work at the commencement; had gone to the Home and received little Bessie, aged ten. She now came up and gave me a hearty kiss, and then, so childlike, showed me her new winter garments. Now who was Bessie? The child of a surgeon who had rained his family by intemperance. The mother, a teacher in a ladies' school in Germany, earning her own bread, after a long and heavy struggle. Bessie is loved and is being educated in everything to make her a useful woman.