Let me thank God for these new boots.

Oh! how can I, when I remember that the price of them should have been spent in milk for the poor baby?
If I were really a Christian I ought to take them off and walk barefoot, as the old pilgrims used to do.

They say it is healthy, and I tried to think so because it is cheap, though I am sure that this was the beginning of poor little Cicely's last illness.

With her broken chilblains she could not stand the snow; at any rate, the chill struck upwards.

Well, she has been in bliss three years, three whole years, and how thankful I ought to be for that.