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them. But here at your side on the mission piazza stands Mrs. Cole. Look in her face and you will see deep care and anxiety seated there. Look in her hands. She holds a little dress half finished for one of her school-girls. The needle and fingers have never stopped. How fast they fly! Stitch after stitch until the thread is used up, and then, for a moment the eyes are moved from the boat to re-thread the needle or to change to another seam, and the work goes on. Now the boat is at the landing; all jump out and pull the boat to the shore. Mrs. Cole heaves a gentle sigh as if a silent prayer is answered, and continues her work.—African Missions, March, 1892.

The subject of this sketch was born in Philadelphia, of which city her grandfather, James Forten, was an old and well-known resident. As the facilities for educating colored children were at that time very poor in the city of her birth, she was taught privately for some time by an aunt, and then sent to Salem, Mass., where she attended the grammar school, and was afterwards admitted into the normal school, in which she was the only colored pupil. She was treated with great courtesy and kindness by teachers and pupils, and was appointed by her class to write the poem for one of the graduation exercises. Just before graduating she was, greatly to her surprise, offered a position as assistant teacher in one of the public schools in which there happened to be not a single colored pupil. After her graduation she took the