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young people with his kind, merry greeting.

"There's a great letter up at the convent," he said, when he came up
beside them. "The Sisters have got it, and they will show it to you. Ask
them to read it to you. That letter will have a place in Kentucky
history. This is where we must turn out. No, Toby, old man, there's no
time for you to be listening and enjoying yourself, nor for nibbling
pea-vine, either. Move on, move on! Good-by, my children. Don't forget
to ask the Sisters to show you the bishop's letter."

Sister Teresa held it in her hand when she came to the door to meet
them. Both the girl and the boy had been her pupils, and she had formed
an attachment for them which had not been weakened by their leaving the
little school. Sister Elizabeth also hastened to receive them most
cordially. Sister Angela merely waved her hand through the window, but
the little faces peeping over the sill, and the tops of the little curly
heads bobbing up and down at her side, told why she could not come with
the others to meet the welcome guests. Sister Teresa did not wait to be
asked to read the letter, she was too much excited over it to forget it
for a moment; its coming was the greatest event that the convent had
ever known.

"This, my dear children," she began almost as soon as they were within
hearing, "is a letter from Bishop Flaget, the first bishop of Kentucky,
the first bishop of the whole northwest. Of course you must know, my
dears, that this is far too important a letter to have been written to
an humble little community like ours, or even to Father Orin, much as he
is esteemed. This is merely a copy of the letter which Bishop Flaget is
sending back to France, and the original was addressed to the French
Association for the Propagation of the Faith. It was written in June of
this year, soon after the arrival of his Reverence in Kentucky, but our
copy has reached us only to-day. Listen! This is what he says about his
coming to Bardstown: 'It was on the 9th of June, 1811, that I made my
entry into this little village, accompanied by two priests, and three
young students for the ecclesiastical state. Not only had I not a cent
in my purse, but I was compelled to borrow nearly two thousand francs in
order to reach my destination. Thus, without money, without a house,
without property, almost without acquaintances, I found myself in the
midst of a diocese, two or three times larger than all France,
containing five lar