nting if ever I painted a daisy
that did not need to be labeled, I should be proud, and I have done it."
I wish, dear Dr. Prentiss, I could recall the thousand and one pleasant
things that every now and then have occurred to me, while I was thinking
of her. I tried to write to you when I heard of your great loss, but my
heart failed me. I could not, nor can I, imagine you living without her.
In her last letter to me she says, speaking of my daughter's marriage:

I hope thirty years hence the twain will be as much in love with each
other as two old codgers of my acquaintance, who go on talking heavenly
nonsense to each other after the most approved fashion.

How little I then dreamed that we should never meet again! I should much
like to see you all. I have not forgotten that pleasant summer at Dorset
in 1875, nor the great pan of blackberries you picked for me with your
own hands.

With kindest regards, very sincerely,

JULIA H. KEMPSON.

_To Mrs. Humphrey, New York, Dec. 1874._

After learning how to manage a "Bible-reading" by attending Miss
Warner's once a week for four or five months, I got my tongue so loosed
that I have held one by request at Dorset. The interest in it did not
flag all summer, and ladies, young and old, came from all directions,
not only to the readings, but with tears to open their hearts to me.
Some hitherto worldly ones were among the number. I have also helped
to start one at Elizabeth, another at Orange, another at Flushing. My
husband says if one were held in every church in the land the country
would be revolutionised. It is just such work as you would delight in.
Do forgive the blots; I am tearing away on this letter so that I forget
myself and dip up too much ink. I have been urged to hold three readings
a week in different parts of the city, but that is not possible. You
can't imagine how thankful I am that I have at last found a sphere of
usefulness in Dorset.

We had a great shock last spring when Mr. Prentiss was stricken down; I
do not dare to think how hard it would have been to become husbandless
and homeless at one blow. But I well know that no earthly circumstances
need really destroy our happiness in that which is, after all, _our
Life_. Even if it is only for the few years before our boys leave home,
never to return permanently to it, I shall be thankful to have it left
as it is--if that is best. If I had not known what my husband's trouble
was, and summoned aid in the