“Led by curiosity, and the air of comfort pervading the well-furnished room, and the piously-disposed appearance of the persons who passed in and out, I had several times looked in at the house of the ‘Foreign Missions,’ as we used to call it.  A man with a good-natured face used to sit in the chair, and a wise-looking little man in spectacles (the Secretary) used to sit a bit below him, and a dozen or two well-disposed persons of both sexes, with sharp and anxious countenances, used to sit round in a half circle, listening.  The wise-looking man in the spectacles would, on motion of some one present, read a long report, which was generally made up of a list of donations and expenditures for getting up a scheme to evangelize the world, and get Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch.  It seemed to me as if a deal of time and money was expended on Mr. Singleton Spyke, and yet Mr. Spyke never got off to Antioch.  When the man of the spectacles got through reading the long paper, and the good-natured man in the chair got through explaining that the heavy amount of twenty-odd thousand dollars had been judiciously expended for the salary of officers of the society, and the getting Brothers Spurn and Witherspoon off to enlighten the heathen, Brother Singleton Spyke’s mission would come up.  Every one agreed that there ought to be no delay in getting Brother Spyke off to Antioch; but a small deficiency always stood in the way.  And Brother Spyke seemed spiked to this deficiency; for notwithstanding Mrs. Slocum, who was reckoned the strongest-minded woman, and best business-man of the society, always made speeches in favor of Brother Spyke and his mission (a special one), he never got off to Antioch.

“Feeling forlorn, smarting under disappointment, and undecided where to go after I left the house in Mercer street, I looked in at the house of the ‘Foreign Missions.’  Mrs. Slocum, as I had many times before seen her, was warmly contesting a question concerning Brother Spyke, with the good-natured man in the chair.  It was wrong, she said, so much money should be expended, and Brother Spyke not got off to Antioch.  So leaving them debating Mr. Spyke’s mission to Antioch, I proceeded back to the house in Mercer street, and inquired for the landlady of the house.  The landlady, the woman that opened the door said, was engaged.  The door was shut in my face, and I turned away more wounded in my feelings than before.  Day and night I contemplated some plan by which to ascertain Anna’s place of abode, her pursuit in life, her wants.  When we parted she could neither write nor read:  I had taken writing lessons, by which I could communicate tolerably well, while my occupation afforded me the means of improvement.  A few weeks passed (I continued to watch the house), and I recognized her one afternoon, by her black, floating hair, sitting at a second-story window of the house in Mercer street, her back toward me.  The sight was like electricity on my feelings; a transport