Visit Ottos; boy very, very bad; enteric; fear worst; prayer.

After dinner, repose and preparation for afternoon service; restless hour and half with no progress; 110 texts; no go, so in despair at 2.30 got up, and after bit prayer decided to preach to young people on “En de Heere keerde zich om en zag Petrus aan” (And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter); immense crowd; wonderfully helped.

Funerals four; very large crowd; hundreds; splendid opportunity again; “En de dooden werden geoordeeld naar hetgeen in de boeken geschreven was” (And the dead were judged out of the things which were written in the books).  We are all busy, each with his own book, and each day we add a page; but one day, like with these dead, we come to our last page.  What have we written?  How do we write?  When we become God’s children, God writes in letters of red—­with Christ’s blood as ink—­over the pages of sin we have till now written, “Cleansed in Jesus’s blood,” and thence we write only to the glory of God.  And the little children we bury to-day—­they too have their little books completed, but I believe there was an angel to hold the pen of each child, and that therefore their little books will be pure before God.

After funerals, girls’ prayer meeting; very enjoyable gathering; regulated prayers somewhat; first for our own special needs, second and third for our camp—­sick, weary, sorrowful, careless, unconverted, hospital; fourth and fifth, relatives and friends far away; Land en Volk.

Tea, and at 7.15 our evening service of song (went to tea at 6.30, people already going to service).

Glorious singing, place inside and outside (?) simply packed; reserved seats for nurses, who arrived few minutes late; “Prys den Heere” (Praise the Lord) again; temptation too great; sudden inspiration.

“Wederzien” (God be with you) beautifully sung; also several kinderharp; so hearty, so enjoyable; quarter-hour over time; announced next meeting Tuesday night (D.V.).

And now the day is over.

Mr. Becker had huge crowd in lower church this afternoon while I had young people.  May God’s Word not return to Him void!

And now for a good old pipe, and a few good long thoughts of home, dear ones, and friends.

(This almost long enough for sermon, and needs only the Amen!)

* * * * *

Thursday, October 24.—­Long break, four days gone by; but one day is like the other except that on alternative days I take the funerals; for the rest, each day is like preceding morning, noon, and afternoon—­sick! sick! sick!

O for a change in my work!  The continual cry is “Minheer, kom tog hier” (Sir, please come here), “Minheer, gaat tog daar” (Sir, please go there), and one grows so weary of scenes of suffering and sorrow; always red and tear-stained eyes; always Love, helpless, hopeless, impotent, despairing; always face to face with Decay, Change, Death; always the same close, stifling, little tent.