they are religious,
but have had no real Bible teaching, and there are ten thousand of them
in this nation. The Board has concluded to send Miss Haymaker here and I
am glad."

BOTHERSOME "BREDDERIN"

The Board talks about sending a new preacher here, I hope they will send
a strong healthy consecrated white man. A sickly man has no business
here. Common sense and grit are needed more than learning. It will be no
easy task for a white preacher to manage these black Presbyterians. I
suspect it will require more tact and will power to manage this set,
than one of our city churches.

A half dozen old fellows claiming to be elders tried to run 'de Sunday
School and de teacher' until I read to them a letter from Dr. Allen,
secretary of the Board. Not one of them can read, but they take great
pride in being elders.

[Illustration: MRS. M. E. CROWE.]

[Illustration: CARRIE E. CROWE.]

[Illustration: ANNA T. HUNTER.]

[Illustration: MARTHA HUNTER.]

[Illustration: James McGuire and Others, 1901.]

Some were appointed elders in other churches and they think that makes
them elders here. It will be a sad day to them when they learn they are
not elders here, and I fear they will not then be willing to remain as
members.

I have written you a long letter and it is all about the darkies; but no
doubt you are expecting that.

HARD WORK AND MISERABLE LIVING

"I am not so strong, in fact feel ten years older than one year ago. I
fear I cannot stand the heat this summer. I said 'heat' but do not mean
that exactly. This climate is rather pleasant, if we could only provide
comforts. It is the constant hard work and miserable way of living that
makes it so bad.

"No white person could eat what these women prepare,--bread, always of
corn, and fat pork, swimming in grease. Give them flour, they stir in a
lot of soda and serve you biscuit as green as grass. They have no idea
of better cooking and will not take the pains to do better. We are going
to teach them to cook, scrub and wash clothes.

"Write soon and tell me whether you called on mother, when you were in
Steubenville.

"Your Friend,
Eliza Hartford."

Six months later when she returned from a short visit to her mother she
writes:

"The weeds were so high I could scarcely see the house. I had to pay
forty dollars from my own earnings on lumber hauled for the new
school building, but which Elder Crittenden says, was taken by
thieves.