children, we will do a great
deal. I felt it was for the best to go and transfer my efforts to the new
farm, where I could feed the little ones at a cheaper rate than in
Scotland. I told the directors eighteen months before this was the only
way I could see of continuing the work, and left it to them whether they
would continue to co-operate with me or not. As I said before, they
decided to do so. Some of my most active workers joined the party, which
was divided into two sections. I may mention that complete lists of
children were formally submitted to the directors before starting.
In the end of May, 1886, I sailed
with twenty-five children and sufficient helpers to take care of them,
leaving the rest to follow when we were ready to receive them.
It is said, "He that trusteth in the
Lord, mercy shall compass him about" ; and so it was with us. We set out,
not knowing exactly where we should find a home, but trusting in
the same God who has led us and fed us all these years, and He has not
disappointed us.
Kind friends in Edinburgh asked us
to breakfast the morning we started for Liverpool, and wished us God
speed. After breakfast they sang with us the grand old words beginning
"God is our Refuge and our Strength,
In straits a present aid,
Therefore, although the hills remove,
We will not be afraid;"
and read the ninety—first Psalm, the
Traveller's Psalm, as some one has called it; and ever since, if
anxious or perplexed on land or sea, we seem to hear the words again, so
that we have been kept from ever being afraid. It seemed very hard to
leave so many kind friends that morning. It seemed as if they were sorry
to have us go; but still for " our children" what cannot one do ? And the
necessity was the same as it was in the olden time to Jacob’s sons, when
they heard there was corn in Egypt. Wae’s me, there seemed to be little
bread in Scotland, especially for "our children "; and so, when we had
heard the last "good-bye" and "God bless you" on the railway platform, and
had seen the last friendly face at the carriage window, we could only feel
thankful that so many would think of and pray for us and our little ones,
and would carry on the work of caring for our children while we were far
away doing what we could.
But
we did not leave all our friends in Edinburgh,
for at Liverpool a dear friend and constant helper suddenly appeared, to
the great delight of our children (who had not expected to see her); and
as Liverpool was to them a "far-awa-place," almost beyond human ken, her
appearance on the stair of our resting-place seemed little short of
supernatural; "no a'thegither canny !"
but the reality soon proved itself in the embodied spirit, full of
kindness and help, and an immense stock of sweeties. Our children were
soon all put to bed. The older folks had still various arrangements which
kept us busy till late.
The next morning saw us early up and
away to the Alexandra Dock, where all went smooth, and very soon we found
ourselves on board the big ship Caspian. Our children attracted a
good deal of attention, with their Scotch tongues, neat cloaks, and bright
fisherman’s caps, which I devised as a means of keeping them in sight; for
when we saw the red knitted cap, we knew the little head inside must
belong to one of "our children." Remember, so many were under eight years
old, four below four years. I took the very little ones with us, for I
knew those to follow would have enough to do without such a heavy handful.
The youngest of the party, a fat, good-natured baby of two years, seemed
to enjoy the whole thing as well as any one.
Everything comes to an end; so does
even waiting in dock for a ship to sail. At last all is ready; our last
friend says good-bye; we say good-bye too, the children give a cheer for
her; some of us feel a little as if we could cry; ropes, chains, etc.,
seem to make a little more noise, and we are off!
There is plenty to do to look after
our children. The matron and girls are busy doing everything; I relapse
into uselessness, feel ashamed of doing nothing, but I can’t help it; I am
a shocking sailor. It is said somewhere, "Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can the floods drown it." I often think that that is a good thing;
for if they could, the waters of the Atlantic would certainly quench mine
for our children. As it is, and there is no other way to Nova Scotia, I do
my best. The others are very kind to me, and do all they can for me; it is
not much, and their efforts are better bestowed on our children, who are
extremely ill to begin with, and then, with the fickleness of
youth, become lively and active, and used to the ship as if they were old
sailors. They come and see me in detachments; by-and-by I am able to be
dragged on deck, and we have great times; mercifully, the rest of our
party are excellent sailors. The passengers are very kind to the children,
and like to hear them sing: so they had a frequent resource in singing
their Scotch songs and school rhymes, as well as the hymns of which they
are so fond. Of all this I knew nothing for many days, but on Sunday we
had a lovely day, and I was able to be at service in the morning. We had a
children’s service in the afternoon, and I was asked to let them stay up a
little to sing hymns with all on board in the evening, which they enjoyed
extremely.
Next day we began to see ice, and
then our progress became slow, owing to the fog being more dense than
usual.
On Wednesday we reached St. John’s,
Newfound
