est, neat--nay, smart
if you will--they present a picture that can only be appreciated by
those who know their lives. Some people might find fault, but to me the
colour and tone of the picture is perfect.

As there were seventy of them, there was room for variety, and they gave
it! Look at them! There they sit as the shades of night are falling.
They have been out all day long, and have come in tired. Are they
peevish? Not a bit! Are they downhearted? No!

There is my friend who makes no secret about it, and tells us that she
is forty-six years of age; this is the first time she has ever seen the
sea, and she laughs at the thought. The sun has browned, reddened and
roughened her face, and when I say, "How delicate you look," she bursts
again into merry laughter, and the whole party join her. Mrs. Holmes and
myself join in, and our worthy trustee, bachelor and Quaker though he
be, laughs merriest of all.

Aye! but this laughter was sweet music, but somehow it brought tears to
my eyes.

Now just look at my friend over there beside one of the palms, her
feet resting so naturally on the Turkey carpet! You observe she sits
majestically in a commodious chair; she needs one! For she is five
feet eleven inches in height, and weighs sixteen stone. I call her "The
Queen," for when she stands up she is erect and queenly with a noble
head and pleasing countenance.

She makes no secret about her age; "I am sixty, and I have been here
four times, and, please God, I'll come forty-four more times," and she
looks like it. But what if there had been no Singholm to look forward to
year by year? Why, then she would have been heavy in heart as well as in
body, and her erect form would have been bent, for she is a hard worker
from Bethnal Green.

The idea of coming forty-four more times to Singholm, and she sixty-six,
was the signal for more laughter, and again Singholm was tested; but our
builder had done his work well.

"Turn on the electric light, matron!" There is a transformation scene
for you! Now you see the delicate art colours in the Turkey carpets, and
the subdued colours in the Medici Society's reproduced pictures.

See how they have ranged their chairs all round by the walls, and the
centre of the room is unoccupied, saving here and there maidenhair ferns
and growing flowers. Now look at the picture in its fulness! and we see
poor old bent and feeble bodies bowed with toil, and faces furrowed by
unceasing anxiety; but t