A few memories

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was then eight years old, and it was thought neo sary to begin my general education. They took e to the Convent of the Ursulines, near Louis-lie, and left me there. Who that has ever suf-red it can forget the first great homesickness ? remember distinctly my utter misery when the ated door closed upon the mother and brother Dm whom I had never before been separated, he convent was a large, Italian-looking building, rrounded by gardens, and shut in by high, prison-:e walls. That first night in the long dormi-ry, with its rows of white beds and their little :cupants, some as sad as myself, my grief seemed ore than I could bear. The moon made a track light across the floor. A strain of soft music me in at the open window; it was only an ac-irdion, played by some one sitting outside the invent wall; but how sweet and soothing it was ! he simple little melody seemed to say: " See bat a friend I can be! I am Music, sent from iaven to cheer and console. Love me, and I .11 soothe and calm your heart when it is sad, and mble all your joys." It kept saying such sweet ings to me that soon I fell asleep, and dreamed was at home again. From that night I felt mu-: a panacea for all my childhood's sorrows. Even
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