Dear Mr. May— Another month of hard and not unsuccessful labor is accomplished. In that time, I have entered the hearts—of all—and the homes—of many of my children. With few exceptions, I find the parents hardworking; very poor, and exceedingly "anxious that the children should get lernin,'' and willing to make any sacrifice to that end. When I began visiting children, my escorts failed me, day after day, with remarkable forgetfulness, as I thought: but it afterwards transpired that they could not conceive of anything that should bring the teacher home, but a complaint which would bring them a "good strappin." But I found my way alone, to the—first—dismay and—final—delight of the little ones; who reported to others the "nice visit," and how glad "de mammy was to see" me;—so that a great eagerness, sprang up, for a visit; and escorts are only too ready. The children as well as parents are anxious through the first call, for the expected complaint, (!) or the request for money, (!) and it is truly amusing to see their relief, when it dawns upon them, that 'tis because I am interested in their welfare, that I have sought them out.

Most ardent and grateful letters come to me from my Georgia friends. Some write for me to find their lost ones—and I trace them, to "a gang was taken away de firs year of de war—missus; and dey wouldn't let nobody know whar to"— or to the Grave; or to their homes;—as was my good fortune to do, last week;—when I found the aged parents and the brother and sisters of a nice, smart woman, who wrote us from Columbus, that she knew not where one of her kin lived; and felt little hope; but wanted the satisfaction of trying to hear of them. There are seven congregations of colored people in this city; most of them,—large and flourishing And, to most of the people, going to Church is their highest pleasure. One church, built and paid for by freedmen, is as pretty, and home like, as I have ever seen. It is crowded three times on the Sabbath, and three times in the week with the most orderly well dressed people; who give surprising amounts of money in the constant collections that are taken there. This church has 5000 members and a fine Sunday school of 800. I had written this far, when your letter came; and I have been waiting to report the arrival of your "goods" which have just arrived—the evening of the 14th. Just what I want, and in perfect order.

The orphanage (cold.) is not to buy a place. It is thought best to concentrate efforts towards buying a site for a permanent school for colored people. Anyone sending contributions will receive a receipt from Mr. Tomlinson, Supt of Education of S.C.

Returning from school, I met a colored woman, with a bucket of oysters on her head, walking rapidly, and gesticulating drolly, as she exclaimed—"Never mind! Never mind! Bucra tief de pint from me—and dough Ise poor enough he hurt his self de most Never mind! he tief from me—I pray for him No! I wont put de police on em & I wont trouble em myself I just give em to God—Poor Buckra. Live honest! Die right!'' She exclaimed impressively. After I got her to tell how the white folks stole her measure—I asked her if her feeling was not vengeful. "I don't tink so, missus. Ise provoked to see em do so mean, but ever since my mammy died I'm resolved to meet her in glory I promised her I would & I makes myself comfortable tryin to do right.'' I met a very feeble old colored woman, miserably clad, in a drenching rain, a few days ago and asked her where she was going etc. “ de shop, missus, to buy half a pint of lasses & half a pound of flour, to make cakes to sell—to get something to keep me and my little grandchild. Wese alone in de world, with no friend but God." The poor people pay unreasonable rent for miserable quarters—and have chills & fever much—from stagnant water about their places; I show them how to drain and put things to rights about their homes.

Last week I heard three colored boys examined in Latin, who have gone this week to ''Oberlin.'' It was very interesting to see them,—and find how thoroughly they understood what they had learned:—they were truly promising boys—leaving out their hue. Many hundred people have sailed from here to Florida—the past month I longed to go with the poor people—I fear they must suffer much—they are going in too great numbers & without sufficient arranged plans If I live another season—I mean to join them I am truly glad to have opportunitys for colonization, for those who desire it;— but the needful wisdom for management is so rare—I can't but feel much anxiety But the right man will appear at the right time:—he always does. And though there are many clouds around, here there rays of light break through The day after "Nasby" shows that the North ain't education up to its principles—Philadelphia street cars admit blacks— in faith that all things work together for good.