XVI 

 IN THE VALLEY OF THE DWYFOR 



HEN our steamer, the " Tunisian," 

 docked at Liverpool after a quick 

 and pleasant voyage, the two 

 brothers of my good friend and 

 travelling companion, Dr. W., 

 were waiting to greet him. It 

 was something like half a century since my friend 

 had left his home among the Welsh hills to devote 

 his fine mind and loving heart to the ministry of 

 Jesus Christ in America. Were this the place, one 

 might write many a chapter concerning the faith- 

 fulness and fruitfulness of that ministry which has 

 brought such priceless blessings to so many lives 

 and helped so largely in building the Kingdom of 

 God in the new world. However, it is of his early 

 home rather than of the man, that we are to write 

 just now. 



It was because the writer was his brother's friend 

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