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diff --git a/75460-0.txt b/75460-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a64f2e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/75460-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2610 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75460 *** + + + + + +“They’re a Multitoode” and other stories + + + + +[Illustration: “I wish you would tell me the story of Yin-dee.”] + + + + + “They’re a Multitoode” + and Other Stories + + COMPILED BY + THE SECRETARY + OF THE YOUNG PEOPLE’S + FORWARD MOVEMENT + FOR MISSIONS + + [Illustration] + + TORONTO: + The Missionary Society of the Methodist Church + The Young People’s Forward Movement for Missions + F. C. STEPHENSON, Secretary + + + + +“They’re a Multitoode” + +“We ain’t expected to do only our part.” + + +Christopher Morton, Jr., was looking through the morning mail in the +office when there came a knock at the door. He glanced at the clock and +frowned. It was too early for visitors by five minutes, and this vigilant +young man of business was very careful of his minutes. + +While he hesitated, the door opened without ceremony and admitted a +gaunt, unfashionable figure, hollow-chested and sallow-faced. + +“Hello, Christy, old chap!” cried the intruder, stretching out a hearty +hand and feeling apparently no doubt of a welcome. “How are you?” + +For an instant the other looked at him vaguely, the crease still showing +in his forehead. Then his eyes lit. + +“Why, Jim Perry, is it you!” he shouted, getting around the table with a +bound. + +“Part of me,” said Jim, sinking into a chair. He panted a little, but he +smiled yet. + +Christy looked him over discontentedly. + +“What have you been doing to yourself?” he asked. + +“Caught a fever,” explained Jim, with a nod. “The missionaries sent me +home. I might better have stuck it out there, but I had no breath to +argue with them, so they packed me off. I am to go back in September.” + +“I have always believed in foreign missions,” said Christy, “but when +they took you out of the country I found it hard to keep my faith. And +now—” he stopped abruptly. + +“It was a mighty good day for me when I went,” said Jim Perry. “I have +got a good deal out of living these past three years.” + +There was no mistaking the ring in his voice. + +“You have snug quarters here,” said Perry. “They tell me that you are a +prosperous man of affairs.” + +“I am getting on,” said Christy, modestly, “I have some turn, I think, +for making money.” + +“We out in China,” said Jim, with a chuckle, “haven’t any; it is the last +thing we can do. Our strong point is spending. We claim that nobody on +earth can surpass us in that. We will invest for you if you like. By the +way—” He plunged his hand into his pocket and brought out a flat strip of +cardboard which he proceeded to fit together into a money box. + +“There!” he said, setting it up gravely on the corner of the mantelpiece. +“You will kindly contribute.” + +“What is it?” asked Christy, regarding the small object distrustfully, +very much as if it were a dynamite bomb. + +“We are trying,” explained Jim, “to raise a special Christmas offering +for missions. Along with the rest of her Christmas giving, the church is +asked to give to those who have never learned what Christmas is.” + +There was a slight pause. + +“Could anything,” Jim asked, “be more acceptable to Him in whose name our +festival is kept?” + +“The original meaning of Christmas has been overlaid in a good many +minds,” commented Christy, briefly. + +“To their loss,” said Jim, “and to the bitter loss of many besides.” + +He rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth over Christy’s +thick carpet. But he was weak; he soon came back to his old place. + +“I have walked,” he said musingly, “the swarming streets of heathen +cities, I have gone into heathen homes, I have stood face to face with +weary, heavy-laden, heathen souls, and I have been taught what Darkness +is. But then, thank God, I have time and again seen the Star of Bethlehem +break in the black sky and stand still over some place where the Christ +was born, and I know, yes, I know, the brightness of its rising!” + +There was another silence. + +Again Jim was the first to speak. “No doubt,” he said, “you give a number +of Christmas presents.” + +“I don’t think of them in September,” said Christy. + +“That is fortunate,” responded Jim, tranquilly. “It will give you more +leisure to think of this betimes.” + +He looked at his watch and said that he must go. + +They walked together to the corner where he took the car, and then +Christy hurried back to his work. + +“That man will never go to China next September,” he muttered to himself, +as he rang up the elevator. “It will be another Celestial Kingdom for +which he will start, unless the signs are wrong.” + +For the rest of the morning, Mr. Morton was not so undivided in his +attention to business as was customary with him. Many times his mind +wandered to the face that was like, and so unlike, the face of his old +college mate. It was aged. It was lined. It was tired. + +“But you could trust it,” Christy concluded, “to the uttermost.” + +“Jim Perry,” he said, facing at last the crucial idea which he had sought +to evade, “has got much out of life. What am I getting?” + +The roar of the city came in at the open windows. Christy did not hear. + +“If I should die to-night—that is too trite a supposition. If I should +have softening of the brain to-night, or advancing paralysis, what +satisfaction would there be to which I could hold fast, as I sat with my +face to the wall while life passed me by?” + +The breeze fluttered the papers on his desk. + +“If my plans stopped now, nothing would be left from the failure. They +need the future in order to amount to anything. If Jim Perry never gets +back to China, why”—he leaned his head on his hand and thought came +slowly—“he has lived for an object and attained it as he went along.” + +Christy was still thinking of the look in Jim’s eyes and the sound of his +voice when footfalls along the corridor foretold an interruption. + +Several men followed on the heels of one another. When they were all +gone, Christy’s mind had largely recovered its ordinary temper. + +“Jim Perry is an awfully decent chap; it was upsetting to see him looking +so done. If he had stayed in this country, three-quarters of a lifetime +of work would probably be before him. One can’t help remembering it. +But—I can accept the logic of missions.” + +He took the little cardboard box from the drawer into which he had thrust +it and read every Scripture verse on all its sides. + +“Yes, the arguments are strong. I don’t pretend to gainsay foreign +missions. But yet it can’t be denied that thousands of the holiest of +saints have lived their lives out within the limits of Christendom and +found more than their hands could do with their might. However, that sort +of incompatibility between the two sides of a truth is the commonest +thing in the world. It does not shake the claim of the missionaries.” + +“I wonder,” he meditated, “how much genuine missionary spirit there is in +the church of to-day. I don’t mean among the specialists, the experts, +like Jim (and me)”—Christy had the grace to laugh a little—“but in the +rank and file.” + +He lifted the contribution box and regarded it with a new expression. +By-and-bye he smiled broadly. + +“It will be an interesting experiment,” said Christy. “Let us try it.” + +He put the box up again on the mantelpiece, where Jim had first set it, +clearing a space about it that it might stand unshadowed in a small rim +of black marble. + +Another hour of the afternoon passed as many other hours had done. +Christy had returned to his habit of absorption in what was in hand. + +An old woman, rich and “crotchety,” had been talking business with him +for the last fifteen minutes. + +“The old dame is as keen as a weasel,” thought Christy, as he listened +with bowed head, deferentially. “Not many men could fool her on a deal. +She is honest herself, and she doesn’t mean to be cheated. The most of +her time is given to padlocking and double-barring her money chest.” + +Finally she came to a pause. She pointed across the room. + +“You have something new there. What is it?” + +“A collection box,” answered Christy, accepting his cue, promptly. +“A college classmate of mine, a missionary to China, left it. The +missionaries are calling for a special offering at Christmas.” + +The old lady heard him out patiently. When he had finished, she began to +speak of further precautions and provisos that had occurred to her as to +her affairs. Then she arose stiffly to go. + +At the mantelpiece she stopped, took a bill from her full purse and +slipped it into the narrow opening of the missionary box. She had given +the first contribution to Jim’s heathen. + +“Of her abundance,” quoth Christy, as he shut the door behind her. + +Miss Craig, his stenographer, was moving at the other end of the office. +She shut up her typewriter; it was the hour for her to leave. + +A little time before Christy had felt a sensation in regard to Miss +Craig. He did not often do this, which was one of his chief virtues. + +But, just now, in the midst of his discourse on foreign missions, he had +been arrested for an instant by meeting the straight, intent gaze of the +young woman who always, unless directly addressed, kept her discreet eyes +upon her work. + +Miss Craig put on her hat and gathered up her handkerchief and purse. + +“May I trouble you to post these, Miss Craig?” said Christy, giving her a +handful of letters. “Thank you. Good afternoon.” + +She laid the letters down on the mantelpiece while she opened her purse, +which was shapely but thin. Out of it she took a dollar bill, leaving +some silver, and put it in the money box. + +Christy had started up to expostulate. He sat down to recover. + +“She was as calm and matter-of-course about it,” he gasped, “as if it +were only natural for poor working girls to help evangelize China out of +their slim wages.” + +During the next two or three days much notice was taken of the missionary +box. + +The notice was diverse in kind. The curiosity of some was quickly +satisfied. Some stared politely. Others openly scoffed. + +One fashionable club man put in a penny. + +“To see how it feels,” he said. + +“The shock can’t be very great,” observed Christy, “even to so new a +subject as yourself.” + +“But you know,” said the club man with a grin, “it comes on top of +finding you running the machine. My nerves are all gone.” + +A clergyman who coughed gave liberally. + +“If I could have guessed that he was coming,” said Christy, with +chagrin, “I would have covered the thing up. Some men can no more pass a +collection basket than a drunkard can a corner saloon. But they are few.” + +A hard-headed merchant furtively dropped in a gold piece. + +“I got it in change,” he apologized, when he met Christy’s gaze. “It is +as well to make some special use of it before I pay it out for a quarter.” + +A circuit judge lifted the box in his hand and read the verses as Christy +had done. When he set it down again he stood before it in silence while +Christy looked up, wondering, and did not disturb him. + +At last the judge aroused himself. He made a large donation. + +“My daughter was interested in all these things,” he said. Christy +remembered then the young girl who had died the year before. + +In one way and another, Jim Perry’s missionary box grew heavy. Then it +was full. + +Christy took it apart, put the money in a pigeon-hole in his desk and set +it back into place. He did not allow himself to comment. + +[Illustration: “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall +be to all people.”] + +On the same afternoon, Chippy Black, the errand boy, was waiting in the +office for a note. Chippy was a new boy; Christy did not feel sure of +him. Lifting his head now to give directions, Chippy was caught in the +act of “hefting” the missionary box. + +“Ah,” said Christy to himself, with vexed enlightenment. Hunting office +boys was a bore. + +“Why, this is empty!” said Chippy, facing round on him and holding out +the box. “Did you send it off?” + +“No,” answered Christy, uncertainly. “It was full. I took the money out.” + +“I see,” said Chippy. There was relief in his voice and in the clever, +dark, little face. + +He plunged his hand into his jacket and brought out a small newspaper +parcel tied with twine. + +“I promised Lin to bring it to you,” he said. “It would have been too bad +if I’d been too late.” + +“What is it?” asked Christy, receiving the packet with no show of +distrust in its dinginess. And he was fastidious. “Who is Lin?” + +“It’s money. She’s my sister,” answered Chippy. “She wants it to go with +the rest.” + +Christy pushed a chair towards him. “Sit down,” he said. “Tell me all +about it. Take your time.” + +Chippy crossed his knickerbockered legs, and by tilting forward a little +managed to keep one toe on the carpet. + +“There’s two of us boys home,” he began. “And there’s Lin. My brother Bob +and me are like lots of other fellows. But Lin is extry. I’d call her +quite extry myself. She’s like—well, she’s like Lin. That’s all I can +say.” + +“I have seen one or two such persons,” said Christy. + +“One Sunday night one of those foreign preachers was talking about the +heathen. If it hadn’t been for Lin,” said Chippy, “we’d have forgotten +all about them inside of a week. But Lin was bound that something had +got to be done. ‘There’s so many of them, Lin,’ says Miss Loretta Pease. +(Miss Loretta lives on the next floor to us; she’s educated.) ‘They’re +a multitoode,’ she says. ‘You can’t never reach ’em.’ ‘Not all of them +at once,’ says Lin to her. ‘Not just us alone by ourselves. We ain’t +expected to do only our part.’” + +“Miss Lin is sagacious,” said Christy. + +“‘It isn’t any more than right for us to do our part,’ she told Miss +Loretta. ‘And for one I won’t back out of it,’ Nor, you may be sure, she +wouldn’t. Lin is the sort that wouldn’t.” + +“An uncommonly good sort,” said Christy. + +“You are like that, too, ain’t you!” said Chippy, looking over at him +kindly. + +“Miss Loretta came round all right after Lin had worked over her a while. +She ain’t obstinate. She’s genteel. So Lin fixed it up that we was all to +chip in together and make up a purse for the heathen. So we did it. And +there it is.” + +He nodded proudly toward the newspaper parcel. + +“You must have worked hard,” said Christy. + +“It’s savings, mostly. I mean our part of it is, Lin’s and my brother’s +and mine. Lin got off the neighbors, too, you know; it’s all there +together.” + +“You saved yours?” questioned Christy. + +“Yes, sir. Lin is grand on saving. She scatters it. She don’t bunch it +all on one thing till it appears as nothing else but just that was worth +eating. First it’s sugar, and then it’s sausage, and then it’s something +different again. And sometimes it ain’t anything at all. You don’t hardly +miss it that way.” + +Chippy slipped still farther forward on his seat and felt for his cap. He +glanced at Christy’s unfolded note. + +Christy got out an envelope and dipped his pen in the ink. Then he let it +rest over the edge of the desk, where it dried. + +He picked up the roll of money. + +“You must have been collecting this for some time.” + +“All summer,” said Chippy. “There’s a good deal of it. Lin and Miss +Loretta had just begun to talk about where they would carry it when you +first began to take up money here. I told them about it and I told them +that, so long as this was where I worked, I thought you’d ought to get +it. So after a bit they decided on that.” + +Chippy plainly felt that the bestowal of Lin’s patronage was no light +thing. + +Christy agreed with him. + +“I’m very much obliged to you,” he said heartily. “This will help me +along splendidly. Let’s put it in at once.” + +He pulled at the twine string, which was tied in a very secure knot, and +laid open the hoard. + +It was made up of all the original pennies and nickels; there was also +one dime among them. The sum total was $2.11. + +Christy handed Chippy a nickel and held one himself. He brought the +missionary box. + +“Now, drop yours in,” he directed. “Then I will drop mine. We’ll take +turn about.” + +Chippy was eager. His interest grew with every rattling coin until the +last was safely inside. Then he straightened himself with a long breath. + +“Lin said she was going to do it, and she’s done it,” he said. + +“And she doesn’t know how much she has done,” said Christy, soberly. + +“That’s so,” answered Chippy, with quick perception. “That’s the best of +it, I suppose. The best of everything, Lin says, is what the Lord can +make out of it. Anything will go twice as far with Him, she says. You +talk a great deal like her.” + +Christy lifted the box. + +“It’s about full,” he said. “It’s just about ready to empty again. But +there is a little space yet. We will leave it. I shall be glad to see +what gift will be put in on top of this.” + +The weeks passed. Several times over the missionary box was emptied into +the pigeon-hole. On a foggy December afternoon a Mr. Richards was alone +with Christy in the office. He had brought the young man a windfall of +$1,000. + +“It is by happy strokes like these,” said Mr. Richards, “that a man grows +rich.” + +Many such strokes of various kinds had come in the way of Mr. Richards +during a long life. + +“I have built up my own fortunes,” he continued, “from the stub. From +what I see of you, Mr. Morton, I predict you success.” + +He regarded Christy with a glint of favor in his iron-gray face as he +added in climax, “You are very much like I was at your age. You are like +myself.” + +Christy was rather silent. When he was left alone he thought of Jim +Perry. He often thought of Jim now. His late visitor and his classmate +stood side by side before his mind. + +“There is wealth and wealth,” he mused. “Mr. Richards has one kind, Jim +has another. I am not so awfully pleased,” he thought resentfully, “with +my likeness to Richards. I don’t fancy being a cash register. All the +man’s fortunes are in money.” + +Christy looked down at the cheque in his hands; he looked at Jim’s box. + +“I said the real Christmas was forgotten. I said that all the missionary +spirit of the present resided in the missionaries and me. I doubt whether +Mr. Richards at my age was such a fool. Poor Richards! He is old. I shall +have a good part of my life yet, I trust.” + +He wrote on the back of the cheque and folded it small. + +“Richards, and Jim, and Lin, and the others have spoiled my taste a +little for happy strokes, however innocently come by. The mission shall +enjoy this one.” + +He pushed the cheque through the slit in the money box, which was getting +frayed and worn. + +Christy met Mr. Richards on the street soon afterwards. + +“I hope,” said Mr. Richards, “that you have found a good investment for +your money.” + +“I have,” said Christy. + +“Is it reasonably sure?” + +“Perfectly.” + +“Nothing in this world can be perfectly sure, Mr. Morton.” + +“But there is another world,” said Christy. + +“It may be,” he said. + +As the man of millions passed on, Christy heard a faint sigh. Three days +later the office door burst open and in walked Jim Perry, broad and brown. + +Christy stared at him speechlessly. + +“I’m well again,” announced Jim, superfluously. + +Christy shook him by the hand, clapped him on the shoulder and thumped +him on the chest. + +“Providence knows how to give to missions!” he said. + +Jim turned to the mantelpiece and shook his money box. It was empty. He +was openly disappointed. + +“You lazy beggar,” he cried. “Are you leaving all the giving to +Providence?” + +“I am not a lazy beggar,” said Christy. “I am a very industrious one. +Look at this.” + +He put the contents of the pigeon-hole in front of Jim and watched him +fall upon them, and enjoyed tremendously his blank delight. + +“Why,” stammered Jim, “what does it mean? Is it all for us?” + +“It means,” said Christy, “that a week from to-day will be +Christmas.”—_Y. P. M. M._ + + + + +The Penny Ye Meant to Gi’e + + + There’s a funny old tale of a stingy man, + Who was none too good, though he might have been worse; + Who went to church on a Sunday night, + And carried along his well-filled purse. + + When the sexton came with his begging plate, + The church was but dim with the candles’ light; + The stingy man fumbled all through his purse, + And chose a coin by touch, and not sight. + + It’s an odd thing now that guineas be + So like unto pennies in shape and size, + “I’ll give a penny,” the stingy man said; + “The poor must not gifts of pennies despise.” + + The penny fell down with a clatter and ring; + And back in his seat leaned the stingy man, + “The world is so full of the poor,” he thought, + “I can’t help them all—I give what I can.” + + Ha, ha! How the sexton smiled to be sure, + To see the gold guinea fall into his plate; + Ha, ha! How the stingy man’s heart was wrung, + Perceiving his blunder, but just too late! + + “No matter,” he said, “in the Lord’s account + That guinea of gold is set down to me, + They lend to Him who give to the poor; + It will not so bad an investment be.” + + “Na, na, mon,” the chuckling sexton cried out; + “The Lord is no cheated—He kens thee well; + He knew it was only by accident + That out of thy fingers the guinea fell. + + “He keeps an account, no doubt, for the puir; + But in that account He’ll set down to thee + Na mair o’ that golden guinea, my mon, + Than the one bare penny ye meant to gi’e!” + + There’s a comfort, too, in the little tale— + A serious side as well as a joke; + A comfort for all the generous poor + In the honest words the sexton spoke. + + A comfort to think that the good Lord knows + How generous we really desire to be, + And will give us credit in His account + For all the pennies we long to “gi’e.” + + + + +Rue’s Heathen + + +The long line of blue check aprons followed the other line of small blue +jackets through the wide hall, up the bare, polished stairs, and into +the clean, airy chapel. Then, at a signal, every apron and jacket was +still. Little Rue’s apron had been about midway in the procession, and +so she found a seat near the middle of the chapel, where, swinging the +small feet that could not quite touch the floor, she looked listlessly +out through the window opposite, over a beautiful view of grove and +meadow, and then up at the white ceiling, where a great fly buzzed at his +pleasure, without having to walk in line. + +On the platform a man in fine broadcloth and gold spectacles was +beginning to talk; but Rue only listened dreamily. + +“My dear children, I am delighted to visit this grand institution—to +see so many of you in this beautiful home, so well cared for, so well +instructed, and so happy.” + +Rue wondered why all the men who talked there said that. She wondered if +he really would like to eat and sleep and walk in a row and always wear a +blue check apron. Then she forgot all about him, in watching the sunlight +play on the small head immediately in front of her. What a brilliant red +head it was! And then a bright thought occurred to Rue. A few of those +hairs, twisted together, would make a beautiful chain for the neck of her +china doll, her one treasure; and, of course, Mary Jane Sullivan would +never miss them, if she only pulled out one here and there. + +Forward crept Rue’s eager little fingers; but they were too nervous +in their haste to be sure that they held but a single coarse hair +before they twitched, and the result was a sudden explosive “Ow!” from +Mary Jane, the turning of a battery of eyes in that direction, and +an immediate investigation by the authorities into the cause of the +disturbance. Poor little Rue was marched off in disgrace; but, as she +reached the door, she heard the speaker say:— + +“I am sorry this has happened; sorry that any one should miss what I am +going to say; for I hoped to interest all these dear children in the work +of sending the gospel to the heathen.” + +It was kind of him to call them _all_ dear children after that dreadful +event, Rue reflected, as, with burning cheeks and tearful eyes, she +stood, with a number of other little culprits, in one of the wide halls, +for even punishment was in rows at the Home. Shifting her weight from one +restless foot to the other, yet trying to stand sufficiently upright to +answer the requirements of the penance, Rue did sincerely wish that she +had been a good girl and remained quietly in the chapel, partly because +of the humiliation that had befallen her, but also because she wanted to +hear what he had to say on the particular subject he had named. + +“Why didn’t he begin with that, and then I’d have listened!” she thought, +rather resentfully. For back among Rue’s shadowy memories of the past, +of love, and mother, and a home that was not _the_ Home, was a dim +recollection of some curious articles which her baby hands had only been +allowed to touch carefully, because they were mementoes of an uncle who +had died far away on a mission field. “So it would have been most like +hearing about my relations; only I haven’t got any,” mused Rue. “Oh, +dear! I wish I’d stayed good and hadn’t pulled Mary Jane’s hair. I didn’t +mean to, anyway.” + +She tried to find out about it afterwards by inquiring of one of the +other girls. + +“Oh! he wanted the children to try and save up something, so they could +help send Bibles to the heathen. Guess, if he lived here long, he’d find +we hadn’t anything to save,” was the hurried reply. + +Bibles! That was where Rue was rich. She actually had two that had been +brought from that faintly remembered home. + +“I don’t suppose I’ll read one of ’em to pieces; not if I used it till +I’m a big woman,” she said to herself. “I might give the other one. I +ought to help, ’count of being a relation, somehow, and I want to be +good. I just do.” + +Later in the day she ventured another inquiry: + +“How will he get those to the heathen?” + +“I don’t know. Why, yes, he’ll send ’em through the post-office, of +course. What do you care so much about it for?” + +That was what Rue did not mean to tell. She chose her prettiest +Bible, spent the play-hours of two days in writing an epistle on the +fly-leaves, and tied it up in a piece of brown paper. Her knowledge of +the post-office and its requirements was exceedingly limited, but she +supposed it would be necessary to put something on the outside of the +packet, to tell for whom it was intended. She wanted it to go where +it was needed most, and of course the post-office people would know +where that was, she reflected; so she carefully printed, in very uneven +letters, “For the greatest heathen,” and then laid the precious package +away to await a future opportunity. She would trust her secret to no one, +lest some unforeseen interference might result, and she cautiously sought +information. + +“How do you do when you put anything into the post-office?” she demanded +of Mary Jane Sullivan. + +“Why, you just put ’em in. You go in the door, and there’s an open place +where you drop ’em right down,” exclaimed Mary Jane, lucidly. + +How good Rue was for days after that. How she washed dishes in +the kitchen, under the care of Miss Dorothy, and made beds in the +dormitories, under the supervision of Mrs. Mehitable, and so at last +earned the privilege of being the one sent to town on some trifling +errand for the matron. + +Thus it happened that one bright morning the clerks in the post-office +were surprised by a little packet tossed in upon the floor, and a glimpse +of a blue check apron vanishing hurriedly through the door. Unstamped, +and with its odd address, it created a ripple of amusement. + +“‘For the greatest heathen.’ That must be you, Captain,” declared one; +and the postmaster laughingly took charge of it, and then forgot it +until, at home that evening, he found it in his pocket. + +[Illustration: Rue writing the letter to “The Greatest Heathen.”] + +“What is it?” asked his wife, presently, as she saw him silent and +absorbed, and, looking over his shoulder, she read the little letter with +him. Original in spelling and peculiar in chirography it certainly was, +but they slowly deciphered it: + + “I haven’t any money to give ’cause I’m one of the little girls + at the Home. Some of them have relations to send them things + sometimes; but I haven’t. I have two Bibles; but I wouldn’t + give this to any one but the heathen ’cause my own mamma gave + it to me. It’s nice to have a mamma to cuddle you up and love + you just by your own self, and tuck you into bed at night, and + not have to be in a row all the time. It makes a lump all swell + up in my throat when I think of it, and my eyes get so hot and + wet I can hardly see. I wish God did have homes enough, so He + could give every little boy and girl a real one, and we needn’t + be all crowded up in one big place, that’s just called so. + Sometimes, when I see all the houses it ’most seems as if there + must be enough to go ’round; but I suppose there isn’t. I guess + it’ll be the real kind we’ll have up in heaven, and I want to + go there; and that’s why I send you this Bible, so you can + learn about it. You must read it and be good. Oh, dear! it’s + dreadfully hard to be good when you haven’t any mamma. I hope + you’ve got one, if she is a heathen, for I’m most sure that’s + better than no kind. Good-bye. + + “Rue Lindsay.” + +“Poor little thing!” exclaimed the lady, half laughing, but with a sudden +moisture in her brown eyes. + +Captain Grey looked around the beautiful room. + +“I’m inclined to believe that letter was properly directed, and has +reached its rightful destination,” he said, thoughtfully. “Think of it, +Mary—all these cosy, pretty rooms, and no one to occupy them but you and +me, while there are so many little home-sick souls in the world! You have +spoken of it before; but I was too selfishly contented to care about it. +If I’m not ‘the greatest heathen’ I have certainly been far enough from +the sort of Christianity this book requires.” + +“Well?” questioned Mrs. Grey, with shining eyes, waiting for the +conclusion of the matter. + +“Shall I go to-morrow and bring this little midget home with me—for a +visit, say—and see what will come of it?” + +It did not occur to little Rue that the stranger she met in the hall the +next day, and who had a long interview with the matron, could be of any +possible interest to her small self, until she was summoned down stairs +to see him. + +“Would you like to go home with this gentleman, for a visit of a week or +two, Rue? He has come to ask you,” said the matron. + +“Me?” questioned Rue, oblivious of grammar lessons, and with a dozen +exclamation points in her voice. There was no danger of her declining. +The prospect of a visit anywhere was delightful, and the possibility +of such a thing almost as wonderful as a fairy tale. So it was a very +bright little face that Captain Grey found beside him in the carriage, +and Rue looked up at him shyly through her rings of sunny hair, to ask, +as the only imaginable solution of the happy problem: “Are you one of my +relations?” + +“Yes, but I didn’t remember it until last night,” he answered gravely. + +The weeks that followed were brimful of joy to Rue, and she won her way +straight into the home and the hearts that had opened to receive her. + +“And so you think I may tell the matron that you do not care to go back, +but are willing to stay here?” questioned the Captain, when the allotted +time had expired. + +“I guess,” replied Rue, looking down at her dainty dress, and suddenly +flinging her arms around Mrs. Grey’s neck, “that you didn’t ever live +there, and eat soup, and wear check aprons, and have nobody like this to +love, ’r else you’d know.” + +But she has not learned yet that it was her own missionary effort that +brought so great reward. + + + + +How Yin-Dee Changed Her Name + + +CHAPTER I. + +“LEAD ALONG A BROTHER.” + +The first thing I know about myself is that I was born; and that I had a +father and mother, too, just as you have. I thought I had better tell you +this, as I have often heard ignorant country people ask the missionary if +in his country children are born the same as in China, just as they will +ask him if there are a sun and moon, rivers and hills, there as here. +My grandfather used to say that foreigners belonged to a country where +people had holes in their chests and were carried about on a long pole by +two men. But he had never seen any foreigners at all. + +Of course when I was born nobody wanted me. Whoever wants girls? I was +the first child; so my parents were bitterly disappointed. Well, I +couldn’t help it; and I have often thought how hard it was that I should +be badly treated, as if it were my fault. My father said bitter things to +mother, so she called me “Yin-dee,” which means, “Lead along a brother.” +After a time they got more used to me, and were not more unkind than +most parents. Sometimes when I was extra good mother would take me in +her arms and call me her “precious,” for, as the proverb says, “All have +the parent heart.” Now, if I had been a boy how different it would have +been—there would have been no end of rejoicing and feasting! My mother’s +parents would have supplied me with a cradle and lots of pretty clothes. +When a month old there would have been another feast, and the barber +would have come to shave my head and mix the hair with rice and give it +to the dog to eat, to make _me_ brave. I should always have had my own +way and have been petted by all. When a year old, they would have called +my relations together and spread before me a lot of things, to see what +my future was to be. There would be books and pens, scissors and scales, +a rule, and some money; and they would have waited to see which was the +thing I grabbed. If it had been books how it would have pleased them, +for it would have meant that I was to be a scholar; if scissors, then a +tailor; and so on. Now, I wonder which I should have chosen? Not books, +I’m afraid; for I don’t like learning—do you? + +Well, as I wasn’t a boy, I had none of this, so had to be content. As +smallpox was very bad, I had a label on my back to say I had already had +it (though I hadn’t), but that was to deceive the goddesses. Then, to +make quite sure, I had a cloth monkey strung round my neck, which made a +nice plaything. I am afraid I wasn’t always good at night—I am sure you +all are!—but cried, for I didn’t have enough to eat most of the time; so +father got the teacher next door to write a verse and paste it on the +wall outside. This is how it goes: + + Tien hwang, hwang, dee hwang, hwang, + Ngo jah yo go yea coo long, + Go wong jwin dz nien san bien, + Ee jo shway dao da tien liang. + +In English it is— + + Ye gods in the heavens, ye powers on the earth, + My baby began from the hour of her birth + With horrible screams to rend the night! + O passing stranger, these my rhymes + Read, I pray you, through three times, + And then she will sleep till broad daylight. + +But I’m afraid there were not many who read them three times, for it +didn’t make much difference. Still, it was the correct thing to do, so +mother felt satisfied. + + +CHAPTER II. + +ORPHANED THROUGH OPIUM. + +According to our Chinese books, when a son is born he sleeps on a bed, +he is clothed in robes, he plays with gems, his cry is princely loud; +as an emperor, he is clothed in purple, and he is the king of the home. +But when a daughter is born she sleeps on the ground, she is clothed in +a wrapper, she plays with a tile; she cannot be either good or evil, and +has only to prepare wine and food without giving any cause of grief to +her parents. So, being a girl, I learned to play with broken tiles, and +found them as good as gems. When I was about three years old, something +dreadful happened. Another baby was born—and it was a girl. I didn’t +mind at all, as I wanted someone to play with, and a girl is as good +as a boy—better, _I_ think. But our proverb says, “Eighteen beautiful +daughters are not equal to one son, even though he be lame.” My father +was dreadfully angry, and beat mother; so she was miserable, and cried +a good deal. After a few days I missed my baby sister, and when I asked +where she was, someone laughed, and pointed to a pond, near by. I didn’t +know then what he meant; but sister never came back, so I had to play +alone. + +About this time I was betrothed. Practically all girls are, in China, and +at a very early age. My father said girls were a useless expense, so he +wanted to get me off his hands as soon as possible. So a lucky day was +chosen, and two middlemen engaged, who came and compared the day and the +hour of my birth with that of the lad they suggested. Then followed a +feast, when the agreement was made and my future fixed. + +The home of my future husband was some little way off, and his father +was a broken-down scholar, who kept a small school, and was a slave to +opium. The lad was his youngest son. The mother bore a bad reputation for +quarrelling and scolding, so you may imagine I didn’t look forward with +much pleasure to entering my new home, and hoped the day was far off. But +it came sooner than I expected. + +When I was about seven years old, I began to notice that father was away +a great deal at night, and that we didn’t get much to eat. The furniture +slowly disappeared, and our clothes were poor and scanty. My mother +seemed anxious, and cried much. I found out the meaning of it one day +when I caught sight of father slinking into a dirty hovel near by, which +I knew to be an opium den. Alas, he had become a victim to the “foreign +smoke”! Day by day the craving grew upon him, and every scrap of money +he could get went in opium, and mother had to support herself and me by +making shoes and washing clothes. Father ate but little, and gave mother +so little money that we were nearly starved. In the morning, before the +craving came on again, he was very miserable and bad-tempered. He cursed +himself and the English who, he said, had brought this evil on China; yet +he couldn’t break away from the habit, and things grew worse and worse. + +Very soon we had to move into a smaller house, and had hardly any +possessions. Mother did the best she could, but no money was safe from +father; and one day she said she could bear it no longer, and went out +with a wild look on her face. She soon returned with some black stuff +that looked like paint, and went into the bedroom crying. After a while +she was quiet, and I thought she was sleeping, so I went away to play. + +It was some time before I returned, but mother was still sleeping. She +looked so strange that I ran next door to ask them to come. They came; +and at once there was a great hubbub, and somebody ran for father, but +he was smoking opium and wouldn’t come. Then I knew that the black stuff +mother had bought was opium, and that she had swallowed it to end her +troubles. + +Her relatives came and made a great row. They abused father, and he +abused them; and they demanded a lot of money, now mother was dead, +though they never tried to help her when she was alive. Father didn’t +seem to care much, as opium eats all the spirit and manhood out of its +victims. He hadn’t any money, so thought the best thing was to send me +at once to my future husband’s home, and so obtain the amount they had +practically bought me for. With this he was enabled to satisfy mother’s +relatives, and I soon found myself transferred to my new home. I never +saw my father again. The cruel opium had made me worse than an orphan. + + +CHAPTER III. + +LITTLE GOLDEN LILIES. + +When I was about four my feet were bound. You must know that in China the +smaller the feet the more a woman is admired. For over a thousand years +the custom has been observed, and only a few give it up, even though, as +the common saying has it, “For every pair of small feet there has been +shed a bucket of tears.” So as my mother wished me to have “little golden +lilies,” as they were called, she commenced to bind my feet early. + +The calendar was consulted for a lucky day (it would never do to commence +anything on an unlucky day), and mother brought some strips of calico a +few inches wide and several yards long. With these she tightly bound my +feet, making them narrow and pointed. + +At first I went nearly crazy with crying. No one took any notice of it, +and mother tried to console me by saying that no one would marry a woman +with large feet. She told me that when she was married hers were only two +and a half inches long. Day by day the binding was done until I wished I +could die and be rid of the pain. Gradually it became less as the feet +ceased to grow, and I was able to hobble about the house. + +But with it all I was much more fortunate than little “Pearl,” my friend +next door. They left the binding of her feet until she was nearly eight, +and then bound them very tightly. She was only scolded and beaten when +she cried, and the pain was so great she nearly died; and when one of +her feet got very bad they called in the native doctor. He said it was +a demon in her left leg, so they heated needles and poked them in her +legs to let the evil spirit out. But she didn’t get better, so they took +her to a charm priest some miles away. They couldn’t afford a chair, so +little Pearl was forced to walk part of the way. The priest wrote some +characters on paper, put them in water, and Pearl drank it. Then they +paid a good sum of money and returned. + +The long walk was too much for Pearl, and she had a long illness, and is +now lame. They say it was because she, in her previous life, was a bad +man—so she was born again as a woman, and has had all this pain. + +I have heard that in the mission-schools of the foreigners the girls all +have large feet; but I am sure they must look very coarse—and whoever +will marry them? Still, I daresay it’s nice to be able to run about +without falling. I remember once mother slipped on the ladder going into +the loft, and fell, hurting her back; but she didn’t blame her feet. +“Little golden lilies make an insecure footing,” says the proverb. + +I was about eight when I was taken to my new home, and the following +years were so full of sorrow that I hardly dare tell you about them. I +was just a little slave-girl, nothing more. There are many thousands in +the same plight in China. I was the property of my mother-in-law, and +she was a bad-tempered and cruel woman. She seemed to take a delight +in beating me, and was always thinking of some new way to make my life +miserable; while from morning to night I had to work far beyond my power. +The opium-eating father used to grab all the money he could, so the rice +often barely went round, and I was continually being half-starved—only +having gruel, and but little of that. All the menial work of the house +fell to my lot, and, as I was at the beck and call of all, I was at it +from morning to night. + +The brothers, too, expected me to wait on them, and struck me if I didn’t +obey their wishes. My mother-in-law’s cruel tongue and crueller hand +drove me on all day, and late at night I was glad to rest my weary bones +on the straw bed in the loft. + +Things went from bad to worse. Not only was the father given to opium, +but the mother and sons were all bad—continually drinking, card-playing, +and quarrelling, till the house bore a bad name all round. Surrounding +the house were several fields. Once there had been a large farm, but one +by one the fields were sold for opium, until only a few were left. These +were tilled by the sons and so brought in a little money. + +[Illustration: The women and girls work all day transplanting rice.] + +The thing we depended on most was cotton, and I had to take my share in +cultivating it. The fields had to be constantly weeded, and that was done +by the women and girls. As with our bound feet it is difficult to stand, +we used to take small stools into the fields and sit with our hoe in our +hands busily digging out the weeds. Then came cotton-picking—back-aching +work, with the sun fiercely shining overhead, and plenty of angry words +when the amount picked wasn’t as much as my mother-in-law thought it +ought to be. + +In the autumn and winter I learned to wind the cotton, and then to work +at the loom, weaving the coarse white cloth of which our garments were +made. This, with making shoes and cooking rice, was my chief work; and +though I suffered much I dared not complain—for I was like the dumb man +eating wormwood, unable to utter my misery. + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A VILLAGE SCHOOL. + +I should like to tell you something about the school my father-in-law +kept. It was held in a little dark room at the back of the house, and +there were a dozen or so boys of about six to twelve, who came daily, +as soon as it was light, and studied till dusk. They brought their own +desks and stools, paid for their own ink and pens and books, and gave a +little to the teacher, either in money or farm produce. They were mostly +farmers’ boys, and in the busy season often had to help at home; so their +education proceeded slowly. + +Their chief work was to learn by heart long strings of words, of the +meaning of which they knew nothing. They began with the three-character +classic, and went on to the works of Confucius and Mencius. But what they +learnt was of little good; for they repeated the sentences like so many +parrots, and with just as much understanding of the meaning. + +Then there was writing—following a copy set by the teacher, with a +brush pen and ink rubbed on a stone slab. That was all. No geography, +or arithmetic, or history; it was dull indeed. Then, too, there was no +discipline to speak of; for the teacher was often under the influence of +opium, so the boys did as they liked. + +The biggest boy in the school was called “Seven Pounds,” because he +weighed that when he was born. He was a bad boy and a regular bully, +lording it over the small ones and helping himself to their pens and +paper. No one dared to reprove him, least of all the teacher, for he was +the son of the village pawnbroker, the most wealthy and powerful man in +the neighborhood. Large numbers of Chinese regularly pawn their summer +clothes in the winter, and their winter clothes when the warmer weather +returns; so the pawnbrokers make a good harvest, and are usually very +wealthy and powerful. So, you see, it didn’t pay to quarrel with Seven +Pounds, and he knew this well enough. + +Now, although my father-in-law was reckoned a scholar, he was, like all +in the house, very superstitious. In the large room, which was dirty and +dusty in the extreme, the place of honour was given to the God of Riches. +There he sat in fat dignity, presiding over the house, though we never +saw any of his riches. In fact, since the coming of wealthy foreigners +into the country, it is often said that the god has moved to foreign +parts, and is now bestowing his riches on the Western nations. Certainly +I never saw the use of him, for our circumstances got worse and worse. + +Then on the outside door we had pasted a pair of door gods. These +pictures represent famous warriors who now are regarded as gods, and they +have to protect the house from calamities. Certainly they are ugly enough +for anything; but I have never known them ward off robbers. But perhaps +it is only the spirits that are afraid of them; men aren’t, I am sure. To +frighten off the spirits we had a looking-glass hung over the front door, +so that when the spirits came round and were about to enter, they should +see their ugly faces and retire in a fright. + +The calendar was invariably consulted for lucky days on which to begin +everything; and when there was an eclipse we joined our neighbors with +gongs and drums to prevent the heavenly dog swallowing the sun. Every +spring there were the sacrifices at the ancestral graves, and much cash +paper was burnt lest the spirits of our ancestors should not have enough +to pay current expenses. Sacrifices were offered to them, and it was a +general holiday. Any paper on which there was any writing or printing was +carefully burnt. By this act merit was stored up. + +On All Souls’ Day my mother would burn incense and cash paper for the +release of those wandering spirits who had no descendants to do it for +them. Near by was a Buddhist temple, where a few lazy priests idled away +the day in opium-smoking and gambling, bearing out the common saying, +“Nine priests, ten rogues.” My brothers-in-law often went there to try +to find out whether any proposed undertaking was going to turn out +successfully. So by all these things you will see there was plenty of +religion in our house, though but little goodness. + +New Year, which is the great Chinese festival, brought only added sorrows +to me; for the time was given up to gambling, and I was busier than +ever attending to the wants of the gamblers, and only received blows +in return. Only at the new year itself was there a little rest from +abuse, for at that time it is unlucky to use bad words. To name the evil +spirits is to cause them to appear. I have heard missionaries say that +they feel free to go where they like then without fear of abuse, for no +one calls them “foreign devil” then, even though they make up for it +later on. + + +CHAPTER V. + +GODS MANY AND LORDS MANY. + +Over our stove was a paper figure of the kitchen god. He presides all +the year round over the cooking arrangements, and listens carefully to +all that is said. A few days before the close of the year he goes up to +heaven to report all he has heard to the gemmy emperor, his master. He +must have had a lot to tell about our house; so my mother-in-law took the +precaution to daub his lips with sticky treacle so that he could not open +his mouth and tell of her doings. Most of our neighbors did this, too; so +I suppose they didn’t feel any too comfortable about his report of them. +At the new year he came down again—at least we put up a new one in the +place of the one we had burned, which, I suppose, comes to the same thing. + +The goddess of smallpox was much dreaded in our district. She usually got +to work at the beginning of the summer, and unless big gifts were given +to her, she revenged herself by killing large numbers of little children +as well as grown-ups. I remember well how she came one summer. One by +one of the children fell ill of “heavenly flowers,” as the disease was +called, and the temple was thronged with worshippers, while every house +had its image of Niang-niang, to which incense was burned to ward off her +anger. As nothing availed, a great procession was arranged for, in which +many children took part. They were gaily dressed and carried aloft on the +shoulders of men to call forth the pity of the cruel goddess. + +Then we had a great theatrical performance which Niang-niang watched from +her shrine opposite the stage. It lasted for over a week, and crowds came +from far and near. The only result I know of was that the disease was +carried into a number of villages near and many more died. The expenses +were paid by the people round, and during the performances the gambling +and opium dens reaped a rich harvest. I was too busy to care for any of +these things, and so miserable that I prayed Niang-niang to come and end +my weary life by sending me the “heavenly flowers.” + +But a worse calamity than the smallpox was to come upon us. All the year +but little rain had fallen, and the fields were parched and dry. It was +the time for planting out the rice. This rice is our staple food, and if +anything happens to the rice harvest we are in the greatest difficulty. +The rice is sown on flooded fields, and when planted out has to be well +watered for a month or more, or the plants will dry up. + +In spite of all the prayers at the temples, the processions, and the +crackers, the rain refused to fall, and ruin stared us in the face. The +following winter was dry and cold, and prices went up so that the poor +began to be in great want. Still it was hoped the spring rains would put +things right again. The farmers sowed what little grain they had left; +but the heat set in earlier than usual, and the fierce sun scorched up +all, and men prayed in vain for the rains that never came. In their +place came famine, gaunt and relentless. + +Our family was one of the very first to suffer. Gradually clothes and +goods were sold, for my father-in-law’s opium craving had to be satisfied +somehow, and with it all my miseries increased. Yet I dare not run away, +for that meant certain death. In the wake of the famine came fever. +Weak with constant opium-smoking, my father-in-law was an early victim, +and we buried him hastily outside the village. The two eldest sons left +secretly, and bitterly my mother-in-law cursed them for leaving her thus +in her distress. + +There should have been some help obtainable from the Benevolent Halls; +but though many subscriptions had been given in the good years, the money +could not be accounted for now that it was wanted, and the man in charge +committed suicide when faced by the angry people. The wealthy hid their +money lest it should be stolen by the bands of fearless robbers who +prowled everywhere. Our home was now sold, and as we soon used up the +money, there was nothing for it but to join the crowds of starving people +going into the cities to seek for help. + + +CHAPTER VI. + +IN THE GRIP OF FAMINE. + +On the way to the town, in the blazing heat, and living mostly on roots +dug from the wayside, the youngest son, my prospective husband, died +of exhaustion. I don’t think any of us minded, as we were too far gone +ourselves. I only remember feeling some relief that now I need never be +married into that family. How we reached the town I don’t know; but we +got there at last, and for a few days lived on a little rice doled out +from a temple near the river. The stores of grain supposed to be reserved +in every town against famine were found to be bad from neglect, and it +was only with difficulty a riot was prevented. The official dared not +show his face, as there were rumors that he had been pocketing some of +the relief money given by the Government. + +On the third day we were all of us too weak to fight our way through the +crowd to where rice was being distributed. Near by was a shop where a +kind of coarse wheat bread was sold. My mother-in-law eyed it hungrily. +There were few about, so she went up to the man and whispered to him. He +looked across to me, and then I saw him give her a lump of bread, which +she clutched eagerly and disappeared down a back street. I never saw her +again. She had sold me to the baker for a piece of bread! + +I was at the time too starved and ill to be frightened, and the man +appeared to be kind and good, and told me not to be afraid. He brought +me to his wife, a pleasant woman with a kind face, who gave me a little +food, and after a while I slept. Then began a new life for me. At first +I was terribly afraid lest my old enemy should come back and try to get +me away. My new-found friends I soon began to like. The man was a small +trader, who had done well in previous years, and though, like all the +others, they were hard pressed by the famine, they had money enough to +tide them over the worst. They had no children, so the man bought me as a +servant for his wife, and I found in her a good mistress. + +Meanwhile the distress grew. Many of the officials were so corrupt as +to try to make money out of the calamities of the people. Transit by +water was very slow, so it was long before relief came. At last we heard +that kindly foreigners were bringing up some boat-loads of flour for the +destitute people. It was when these boats arrived that I saw a foreigner +for the first time in my life. There were two of them who attended to +the transport of the rice from the boats to a temple. A strong force of +soldiers prevented the rush of the hungry crowd, and the foreigners used +to steal out late at night and early in the morning giving tickets to the +destitute and taking care that they were not imposed upon by those whose +need was not so great. + +[Illustration: Making idols in China. + +“The idols in the temple could not help.”] + +They told from time to time a strange story of a new religion of love, +and of Someone called the Lord Jesus, who had sent them in to save the +starving. They were very kind, and gave the people work, widening and +draining the road. My new father was greatly impressed by all this, and I +overheard him say that such a doctrine as this was worth listening to. + +It was at that time that my new-found friends determined to leave +that part and retire to their home far away in the country. A long +boat journey brought us at last to a small farm, lying at the foot +of a steep hill, crowned, as is usual, by a temple. Here in this new +home I began a new life. My friends were very religious, and belonged +to the vegetarians. Nearly all the best and most spiritual people in +China belong to this sect. They are earnest worshippers of idols, and +give large sums of money to priests, and in their life are careful and +self-denying. One of their chief reasons for becoming vegetarians was +that they had no son. This they regarded as the sure sign of the wrath +of the gods. To appease them they had made many pilgrimages to famous +shrines, but without finding peace. + +When New Year came, there was a celebrated and much-attended festival on +the Fairy Hill, near our home. From far and near crowds came to worship +in the temple of the goddess, bestower of sons and healer of smallpox. +Beggars, in all stages of filthiness, lined the roads reaping a rich +harvest from the worshippers, eager to accumulate merit by acts of +charity. My father joined the procession that started one day from our +village. Fasting and in silence they wended their way across the fields, +each man with a stick of burning incense in his hand, and preceded by +banners and an idol in a shrine. Arrived at the temple the noise was +deafening. Drums and gongs clashed, innumerable crackers spluttered, +and the air was heavy with the smoke of incense. My father knelt before +the grim idol. The priest shook together a lot of bamboo slips, from +which my father took one, and the priest handed to him the corresponding +response of the idol. Anxiously he stepped outside and read. Would it be +favorable? Would the angry gods regard his prayer at last? He read the +printed slip, and a look of intense disappointment passed over his face, +for he read thus: + + From sickness no release; + In lawsuits no success; + Your children hard to rear; + From false charges no redress; + The lost will not be found, + Nor flocks nor herds increase; + From marriage no good luck, + And from labor no release. + +Such was the result of many prayers and much fasting. Truly the gods keep +their wrath for ever. + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I RECEIVE A NEW NAME. + +Sadly my father wended his way down the mountain. All was hopeless. +Heaven had forgotten to smile upon him. Then he noticed ahead of him +a small crowd surrounding a foreigner. He was a missionary from the +neighboring town, and was busy selling books and preaching to the +worshippers of the goddess. Father stepped up, partly out of curiosity +and partly remembering the good deeds of the foreigners in the famine +district. + +The crowd were inclined for some fun at the stranger’s expense; but +he answered with such good humor and politeness as to win their good +opinions. Then he commenced to preach. He did not abuse the idols—there +might have been trouble had he done so—but he told of a True Spirit who +was loving and good. Father listened. Who could that Spirit be, so full +of love? Not the god of thunder whom everybody feared, for he struck men +dead in his wrath. Not the fierce god of war, or the pitiless Niang-niang +rejoicing in the sufferings of the smallpox victims. + +As the missionary spoke his face glowed. He told of Jesus, who went +about doing good and at last died for men. There were no Chinese gods +who would do that, father thought. They would take your money, but +die for you?—well, that was nonsense. Eagerly he listened to the +wonderful story. The stranger noticed him. At the close of his address +he approached father. “Your name, honorable sir?” he asked. “My unworthy +name is Lee,” was the response. Quietly and earnestly the stranger looked +into father’s face. “Sir,” he said, “I noticed you listening intently +just now; may I respectfully ask you, Is there peace in your heart? Do +you yet know the grace of God in forgiving sin?” Forgiving sin—that was +what my new parents had sought for so long; and the missionary’s words +went home. My father made a confused answer, but bought a book the +stranger recommended him, and hurried home lest it should be known that +he had talked with the foreigner, and was in danger of eating the foreign +doctrine. + +That meeting was the turning-point in my father’s life. The book he had +bought pointed out a new and living way of obtaining release from sin. +Many visits were paid to the chapel; and once the missionary came to our +village and stayed at our house. Little by little my father’s prejudices +were overcome, and the new doctrine entered his heart. At first mother +was bitterly opposed to it. To draw her away from her gods and win her to +this persecuted faith was no easy task; but gradually the light dawned +for her, too. + +The neighbors got to hear of the visits to the chapel, and much petty +annoyance was the result; but father’s patience and sincerity disarmed +suspicion, and his happiness was so manifest as to be a constant witness +to the truth. They were happy days for me, and my new life was such a +change from the old that it all seemed a dream. One day the missionary +heard my story. “You have come out of much tribulation,” he said. Then +turning to father, he remarked, “Why not give her a new name?” “Yes,” +said father, “we will not call her Yin-dee any more, but Ping-an—Rest and +Peace—for that is what I have now found in Christ.” So that is how my +name was changed. + +Then it was suggested that I ought not to grow up ignorant, but should +learn to read and write; for in the Christian religion there is no +difference made between girls and boys—all are alike precious to Jesus. +The missionary told us that at Han-yang there was a school for girls, +where many were living and being taught useful things, and, best of all, +were taught the story of Christ. How excited I was at the prospect of +going, though not a little afraid of so strange a place! + +At last the longed-for day came and I found myself with my father landing +at Han-yang. At first I was bewildered by the busy crowds and clung to +father’s gown as I walked along. How I trembled with excitement as we +reached the school, and I think father felt as nervous as I did. But we +were inside the gates at last. In a large yard we saw a group of girls +playing. I gave a gasp of surprise. How could they run so? Then I saw +that their feet were unbound, and the small, pointed shoes had given +place to comfortable ones, which didn’t cause them to hobble along. I +smiled a welcome at them, and wondered how long it would be before I +could run as they did. + +We were shown in and introduced to the matron, a Chinese lady, who made +us feel quite at home, and after a chat two foreign ladies came in. At +first I could only stare, and I nearly forgot my manners; but I found +that though they were dressed strangely they spoke my language; so my +fear left me and I was soon enrolled as a scholar in the David Hill +Girls’ School, and proud I was of the fact, too. Truly my new name suited +me—I had found rest and peace. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE GIRLS’ SCHOOL. + +So began my school-life. There is not time to tell you all about it +now. There were about seventy of us there, from five to seventeen years +old. Some of them had been slave girls, and could tell a story to match +mine. Twice a day we gathered for meals, and we learnt to clean out our +rooms, mend and wash our clothes, and make our own shoes, so as to be +useful when we returned home. Then there was study and drill, and all of +it was so interesting—not a bit like the dry way they teach in Chinese +schools. Yet, best of all, were the Sunday services in the chapel and +the class-meeting and Bible-study in the week. My feet were gradually +loosened, and as they grew again I learned to skip and run with the other +girls; and when I went home it was wonderful the impression made on the +people in our out-of-the-way village. + +Several years have gone by since I went to school and entered upon that +new life. Now I am learning to teach others; for teachers are badly +needed in our schools and women teachers are difficult to get. To-day I +have been thinking over my life. Like a dreadful dream there rises before +me the picture of Yin-dee, the neglected little slave of a cruel woman. I +see myself hobbling over the ground picking cotton, or in the evil home +making tea for opium-smokers and gamblers. I almost expect to hear the +harsh tones of my mother-in-law calling me to do some menial duty. + +Then I remember the famine and its horrors. I can scarcely believe that +it is all a thing of the past, and I have become Ping-an, the child of +rest and peace. And what has done it all? Just this—the love of Jesus. It +was Jesus who sent the missionary with the message of love and pardon, +and it is Jesus who now fills my heart with joy. Yet I cannot forget that +there are many—oh, so many!—of my sisters in China in the same sad plight +as I was. I wonder how long it will be before the message will come to +them? How long before they will enter the land of rest and peace? + +In the city of Pekin there hangs a great bell, and there is a legend +connected with it on which I love to ponder. Twice had the labor of +years been lost at the time of casting. The third time, just as the +molten metal was to be poured into the mould, the lovely daughter of +the maker, knowing that by no other means could a perfect bell be cast, +flung herself into the cauldron and gave her life to save her father from +disappointment and shame. + +China now is waiting to be moulded. Old things are passing. It is a new +China we are beholding. Many ways have been tried for her regeneration. +The cold morality of Confucius is powerless. Buddhist monks and Taoist +priests have come in vain. Only by the cleansing Gospel of Christ can +China be purified and made a vessel meet for the Master’s use. Ages ago +this girl sacrificed herself that the bell might be perfect. What we +women and girls of China need is that more missionary teachers should +come to us, bringing the love of the Lord on their lips and in their +lives—then will China be saved and won for Christ. It is worth it a +thousand times. Will some of you come? Will more of you give? Will all of +you pray? There is something each can do, if you will only try. Out of +death springs life, and out of your sacrifice for Christ shall spring a +new China, free from the sins which have bound her in the past. + + + + +David Livingstone + +BY A FELLOW-TOWNSMAN. + + +At Blantyre, Scotland, on the 19th March, 1813, a child was born to Neil +and Agnes Livingstone. We never know when is happening an epoch-making +event. Every new soul ushered into the world is a shut casket of +possibilities. The boy born in the humble home consisting of a “but and +a ben,” was destined to become one of the greatest missionaries; and +the most conspicuous and intrepid explorer the world has ever seen; to +achieve for himself a deathless fame, a name of imperishable memory, and +to leave to mankind a heritage of truth and influence. His cradle was in +the peasant’s cottage, but his grave is in Westminster Abbey. I have many +times visited the house where he was born, and the mill where he worked, +and oftentimes I have read the inscription that is over his grave. I +esteem it a great privilege to have lived for years near the birthplace +of the great and good David Livingstone. His home was one of those which +are the glory of Scotland, the abode of the godly and intelligent working +class. His mother was a sweet, gentle woman, and his father was a good +man. + +When ten years of age he went to work. His working hours were from six +a.m. to eight p.m. His first week’s wages, sixty cents, he gave with +pride to his mother. He saved a few pence and purchased a “Rudiments of +Latin,” over which he pored when the day’s work was done. His thirst for +knowledge was intense. At the age of sixteen he had read many of the +classical authors and knew Horace and Virgil well. + +[Illustration: DAVID LIVINGSTONE (1813-1873) + +The Great Missionary Explorer. + +Went to Africa 1840. Died in Africa 1873. + +How David Livingstone gave.— + +“I will place no value upon anything I have or may possess except in +relation to the Kingdom of Christ.”] + +It was about his twentieth year that the great spiritual change took +place, which was to determine Livingstone’s future life. At that time he +definitely received Christ as his personal Saviour, and there can be no +doubt that his heart was thoroughly penetrated by the new life that then +flowed into it. Religion became the everyday business of his life and +his daily prayer was that he might resemble Christ, a petition fulfilled +in no ordinary degree. A desire was born within him to preach Christ in +China, and that he might be fitted for that work he entered as a medical +student in the University of Glasgow, and in due time was graduated in +medicine. He received not a cent of aid from anyone. What a struggle +he had! What economy he had to practice! Frequently his meal consisted +entirely of oatmeal porridge. + +He was accepted by the London Missionary Society and sent out in +1840—not to China—but to Africa. To God and to Africa he gave his +manhood’s prime. No grander work was ever done than that accomplished +by David Livingstone. In him life’s fire glowed. With magnanimous and +self-sacrificing devotion, with undaunted courage, in the midst of +manifold sufferings, through days of hunger and weariness, and nights +of dreadful loneliness, he worked for Africa’s salvation. He loved the +natives, and they loved the man who was ever kind and good. He worked +amongst them with a vision ever before him of the men and women, whom +they, by God’s grace, might become, and that vision shaped and controlled +and sustained him in all his efforts. With the vision of the latter +day before him he addressed himself nobly and well to the work of the +present. God alone knows what Africa owes to Livingstone. + +This full and overflowing life closed to earth’s activities in May, 1873. +His spirit marches on. Such men never die. His spirit has entered into +the great stream of the ever-swelling life of mankind, and continues, and +will continue, to act there with its whole force for evermore. He lives +in minds made better by his noble example. He lives in the Livingstonia +Mission, that great beacon light; he lives in great numbers of the +regenerated natives of Africa; he lives in all who are constrained to +work for Christ in that dark land. + +I pray our Epworth Leaguers to read the story of his life, that they +may know what one consecrated man did in a lifetime, that they may have +a revelation of the possibilities in man, that they may be inspired to +emulate him in his noble simplicity, high resolve, invincible courage, +exalted self-sacrifice; that they may be possessed with the overmastering +purpose which guided and drove him on. Read his life and be inspired +with the thought that life is a high and noble calling. Reading of his +toils and struggles and victories, pray God for grace to “follow in his +train.” His motto was: “Fear God, and work hard.” Make it your motto. The +greatest of all tragedies is to live and die without a thing done by the +sweat of the soul. + + —_Loch Ranza_. + + + + +Christmas in Our Boys’ School, Junghsien, West China + +BY EDWARD WILSON WALLACE, B.A., B.D. + + +If you were a Chinese, and every day ate two meals of rice and some +vegetables, with meat only twice a month, if as often; if you worked from +daylight to dark seven days in the week, and had no summer vacation or +Christmas holidays; if you had no books to read except possibly (if you +were lucky) one or two greasy and tattered volumes of ancient philosophy, +not one word of which you understood; in other words, if you were an +average Chinese boy or girl, don’t you think that you would look forward +even more eagerly than you did this year to Christmas? I think you would. +At any rate the boys and girls connected with the church in Junghsien +were expecting a great treat, and we were planning to give them all that +they expected, and more. + +Then suddenly, unexpectedly, a terrible thing happened that put an end +to all these hopes and plans. Can you guess what it was? It was not a +fire, or an earthquake, or a riot on the mission. But one morning there +came word that the Emperor of China and his step-mother had suddenly +died, and that everyone must go into mourning. And that was the end of +the two Christmas concerts, the Christmas tree, and the feast. For the +rules for mourning for a dead Emperor in China are quite strict. No one +could marry for a month—that rule did not affect us, for the only wedding +arranged for by anyone connected with the church, that of Mr. McAmmond’s +teacher, took place a few days before. No one was to be allowed to have +his head shaved for a hundred days. Every Chinese boy and man allows just +enough hair to grow on the top of his head to form his “pig-tail”; all +the rest of his head is shaved clean. But imagine what a messy effect it +is to have the head covered with a couple of months’ growth around the +long cue, as there is now. It is the Chinese way of going into black; +for, of course, every man’s hair is as black as pitch. Another rule was +that no one could wear satin clothes for a hundred days, and the little +red knobs on the top of the caps had to be changed to blue, which is the +second degree mourning color in China, white being the first. So far the +rules did not interfere with our Christmas entertainment. But now we come +to the fatal order, “There must be no music and no celebrations for a +month.” Alas! for our Chinese boys and girls. Christmas fell within the +month. + +It is true that we might have got around the trouble by claiming that +ours was a foreign church, and so did not fall within the common rules. +This, I believe, was done in other places. But our church here is a +large one, and we are constantly trying to make the members understand +that it is a Chinese church, not a foreign one, and we decided that this +was a splendid opportunity to impress on the people the fact that when +a man joins the Christian Church he does not in any way become less of +a Chinese, and that our Church believes in honoring the rulers of the +country. As soon as it was finally decided that we should follow the +regulations the members agreed that we had done the correct thing. + +In one way it was rather fortunate for the boys in the school that we had +no entertainment to prepare for. Just at Christmas last year came the +examinations, and some of the boys were working very hard to prepare for +the entrance examination. So it gave them a better chance to study. And +during Christmas week they had four examinations. + +We did not intend, however, that Christmas should pass without something +to make the boys remember the day and what it means. If they could not +have a Christmas tree, I determined to give them the next best thing—in +fact, when I was a boy a year or two ago, I thought it was away ahead of +a mere tree—that is hanging up the stockings. The boys had never even +heard of such a custom, so it was great fun for them. One morning in +school, after prayers, I solemnly asked the boarders, “How many of you +have two pairs of socks?” There was blank amazement. Why did I wish to +know that? I only smiled, as I began with the boy in the front, little +“Georgie Bond.” “Have you two pairs of socks?” “Yes, but the extra pair +have holes.” Then to the next boy, “Have you a second pair?” “I have +three pair, but they all have holes, some of them as big as this,” and he +made a circle with his thumb and finger. “Have them mended,” I replied, +and passed on down the line. I found that all the nine boys had extra +pairs and all of them, as is the case with the stockings of every decent +fellow I ever knew, had holes. I maintain that in China, as at home, it +is a sign that a boy is a real boy when he wears holes in his stockings. +So I advised them to have one pair mended and washed before Christmas +Eve, and bring it to me. And then—well, we should see what we should see. + +[Illustration: The boys of the Junghsien School who had a good time at +Christmas.] + +Great was the excitement among the boys, and not a sock was missing when +the great night arrived. I did not let the boys hang up their own socks, +but packed them all off to the school study-room upstairs, while one of +the teachers and I pinned the socks up in a row in the class-room under +the blackboard. You know we have no fires in the schools here, and so +there are no chimneys. All the same Santa Claus found a way, for next +morning—but wait a bit. + +When I got down to the school on Christmas morning at half-past seven +I found the boys already at breakfast. They were casting anxious eyes +in the direction of the room with the closed door, and like other boys +I have known they did not take long to eat their Christmas-morning +breakfast. When they were all ready they filed into the room. I am not +going to tell you how those stockings were filled. You may decide for +yourselves how, and by whom it was done. I don’t think the boys stopped +to think anything about “how.” They were too much interested in the +sight of twelve white Chinese socks in a row, all bulging out in a knobby +fashion, with things sticking out of them, and a flat, red parcel behind +every sock. On the blackboard was written in Chinese, “Jesus’ Holy +Birthday.” After they had looked for a minute I suggested that they take +down their socks and see what was in them. Then for the first time in +their lives they had the joy of exploring the mysteries of a Christmas +stocking. Their presents were not very much, you would say, perhaps. Each +boy found a story-book and a photograph of the school, and then down in +the sock were nuts and candies, and right in the toe an orange. The two +teachers each got a New Testament with the Chinese and English on the +same page. + +They did not say much, and I wondered if they were disappointed, until +one of the teachers, Mr. Jang, came up to me with tears in his eyes, +saying, “You say we must not thank you, so I think we ought to thank God. +Can’t we do it just now?” It touched me deeply. “Yes,” I said, and we all +went up to the study-room and, standing there about the long table, one +after another of the boys made a short, simple prayer of thanks to God, +not only for the gifts of the morning, but especially for the greatest +Gift of all, Jesus Christ. + +At nine o’clock we had our regular morning prayers, and then I gave to +the day-boys their presents, a New Testament and a bag of nuts and candy +to each one. We had a nice little service in the church for all the +church people, but our real Christmas service was held the next Sunday. +On that day we had a special musical service, led by the boys, who had +been practising for months under Mr. and Mrs. McAmmond. It would have +done you good to hear them open the service with “Come, Thou Almighty +King,” with Georgie Bond singing one verse as a solo. The anthem was +“Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” and our Chinese angels sang splendidly. + +On Christmas morning the church members gave away free rice to five +hundred poor people. So that altogether the boys, even if their Christmas +was quieter than usual, have had something to remind them of the joy of +this beautiful season. + + + + +God Wants Them All + + + God wants the boys—the merry, merry boys, + The noisy boys, the funny boys, + The thoughtless boys; + God wants the boys with all their joys, + That He as gold may make them pure, + And teach them trials to endure. + His heroes brave + He’ll have them be, + Fighting for truth + And purity. + God wants the boys. + + God wants the girls, the happy-hearted girls, + The loving girls, the best of girls, + The worst of girls; + God wants to make the girls His pearls, + And so reflect His holy face, + And bring to mind His wondrous grace, + That beautiful + The world may be, + And filled with love + And purity. + God wants the girls. + + + + +Li Liang Chen + +_Student, Soldier, Trader, Evangelist._ + +REV. J. L. STEWART, B.A., B.D. + + +It was on the street of the Temple of the Four Sages, in the capital +city, Chengtu, Szechuan. There, to-day, its low, grey gable abutting the +entrance gates, stands also the Worship Hall to the Western God, who +is surely becoming Father of the East and of all. Within the temple, +only the smoke of a few incense sticks mingled with the tobacco and +opium fumes curled upward through cobwebs and tiles to the heavens. In +the Worship Hall, three score and more of China’s youth, black-haired, +bright-eyed, brilliant-minded hopes of her future greatness, were +gathered. But half the hall was theirs. Up the centre ran a wooden wall +past which presumably not even a wandering glance might go. That part +beyond was sacred to the women and school girls. As not even these latter +were present to embarrass the situation, native eloquence found full +fling. + +It was the weekly meeting of the Epworth League of the College boys. +Moreover, it was missionary night, and members were all attention. The +leader was in fine form. With flushed cheek and fervid voice he called +his hearers to see visions. + +“Jesus came to found a kingdom among men. All within the four seas are +brethren. The kingdom must then include all under heaven. Jesus founded +it first among His fellows, the Jews. These carried the message to Greeks +and Romans. These bore it to barbarians in Europe and Britain. These have +wafted it round the world, and to our land of the Middle Kingdom. And we? +We must bear the glad tidings on to Thibet, to the tribesmen and to the +aborigines....” + +Just then there was a commotion in the rear of the church. Someone was +trying to make himself heard. At this persistent interruption all turned. +A ripple of indignation quickly changed to interest as they saw the new +speaker, a big, broad-faced, burly fellow, whose countenance beamed forth +a happy combination of courage and child-like simplicity. + +“Your younger brother begs his elders’ pardon,” he ventured, “but here in +the seat just in front of mine are two of these strangers from the tribes +country. Why wait indefinitely some future date? They may leave before +our leader is through. Why not begin here and now?” + +A voice of assent and approval ran around the room. For ten minutes the +speaker, bending forward, chatted pleasantly with the wanderers from +the great ranges to the west, well diggers, it seemed, seeking work +on the plain, welcomed them to the meeting and told them simply and +sympathetically of the Saviour of all and His message of love to men. +Then the meeting went on as before. + +A simple enough little incident, surely, but it is an index to the +speaker, sincere, sympathetic, fearless, practical. It was Li Liang Chen, +that is, Li of Perfect Virtue, as his parents had named him in hope. To +attain the Chinese goal of greatness by becoming an official was likewise +a longing, and to that end he was sent early to school. There, year by +year, through youth and young manhood, he had repeated his history, +rhymed his poetry, patiently traced the puzzling characters and later +written countless stereotyped essays under a still famous teacher of the +district. More than once he had gone up with the picked men of his county +to try for the coveted degree, that opening door to official life. Alas! +how few could hope for success; oft-times scarce two in a hundred. His +heart was, moreover, ever too great for his head, so those with more +self-abstraction or secret alliances with the examiners, won the day. + +In military matters, literary attainments played a lesser part, the +physical was the all-important, so thither his ambitions turned. Here, +though some surpassed him in lifting the two and three hundred weight +stone, success came surprisingly. He soon bent a strong bow and sent his +arrow clean and quivering to the heart of the target. In feats with fists +his stature, strength and courage placed him among the envied few, while +in swinging great swords he was scarce surpassed. + +China, however, cares not for war. In the long life of no other nation +has history written so large, “Blessed are the meek, for they shall +inherit the earth.” Her list of honor runs, scholar, farmer, mechanic, +merchant. The scholar sways by thought, so is first. The farmer and +mechanic each produces, so come next. The merchant does neither, but +distributes, so is fourth. The soldier is not even mentioned, for he +exists but to destroy. Such being the sentiment, in times of peace but +few are maintained or indeed needed to follow the profession of arms +among these most easily ruled of the millions of earth. Li, like the many +of his fellows, must have other means of support. + +His father was a merchant in the market village of the Chao family, near +Jenshow. By dint of industry and economy, he had also added a small farm +to his possession. Li was placed in the shop. Affability won friends, +time and tact got him trade, while his fearlessness gradually carried +him far afield. Back from the borders of the aborigines he brought white +wax and ponies; from the province of Uin Lan he led pack mules laden +with tea. In Kweichow, south and east, he sought silks and horses. From +the far-flung tribes to north and west he bought musk and medicines, +and from the Thibetans wools and hides. Soon agencies were established, +compass-like, all about his centre, and Li, the trader, was known to big +firms in scores of cities, towns, and in the great capital. + +But travels had touched more than trade. In larger centres he had seen +the much-talked-of foreigner, with his ever-present hospitals, schools, +and churches, and had heard him discussed from province to province in +countless inns and teashops. Once, only once, he had paused one day in +his busy life to listen to a street preacher. He carried away little of +what was said. How could such things concern him and his sole search for +goods and gold? Thus ten years fled by. He lost much, but made more, and +at length decided to settle in his native village, among his own, the +better to be a filial son to his now aging father. + +About that time mission problems assumed a new phase. After the dramatic +events culminating in the Boxer cataclysm in 1900, the missionary found +himself received in a new light. Previously permitted, as a matter of +indifference, or in many places despised, insulted, persecuted, he +now found himself pushed into unsought prominence. Foreign troops had +defeated the forces of the Son of Heaven. Foreign officials had but to +say the word, and China bowed to obey. Were not the missionaries friends +of these consuls, indeed might they not themselves be officials or +paid to act as such? In fact, one nation, France, openly allowed their +“fathers” official status. The bishop ranked with a viceroy, the humblest +priest with the local magistrate. + +The fruit of it all came fast. People flocked to the churches, not to +be bettered by Christian teaching, but to gain power with which to +threaten and coerce their enemies. This, it is not unfair to say, was +particularly true among Roman Catholic native priests and their converts, +where the worst characters of the community carried the day with high +hand. It was at least true of the Jenshow district, where, abetted by +the church, “converts” coerced, blackmailed, robbed, assaulted their +helpless neighbors. Should reprisals arise they were at once labelled +“persecutions,” appeal was made to the priests, then to the bishop, +and thus to the chief officials of the province, or locally to the +magistrates. The honest, hard-working citizen’s lot seemed hopeless and +helpless. + +Then the knowledge slowly gained ground that there were two parties among +these foreigners. Protestants, it was said, had equal power, but did not +countenance such coercion. Why not invite these into the county, and join +their organization? The plan was plausible and prevailed. Representative +men went to the capital to invite the Protestant missionaries. After a +time they came, received everywhere with honor and acclaim. Villages, +a score and more, organized and sent representatives to support the +movement. A central organization sprang up and a big building was secured. + +Among the many villages that thus sent representatives was that of the +Chao family. Who should be sent but Li, the scholar, soldier, merchant, +man of affairs. He went to Jenshow, listened, gave hearty support, bought +books said to be necessary and went his way. He was more interested now, +however, and read his books carefully. Though his motives could scarce be +called Christian, he was being led and to lead in a way that he knew not. + +Some months later, a convention for leaders was summoned in the +provincial capital. Li was ready and receptive. He returned to his native +village, moved as not before to pilot his people. Many became converts, +not of convenience, but of conviction, among these his former teacher and +his own family and friends. + +Another year, and again a conference of those most worthy was called. Li +came gladly. This time his home-going meant the giving over of business +interests to others while he went forth in his own village, county town, +and all the surrounding district, this time persuading men to make the +greatest of all investments, those eternal investments in the Kingdom +of God. Henceforth for him he felt his life’s chief business lay in the +extension of the reign of righteousness, peace and joy throughout his +native land. + +Two years have passed since then, but he is still as of old—fervent, +fearless, faithful. A year’s study at college in Chengtu has given him +greater grip and wider vision. To-day he is again out in the work he +loves, the scholar seeing even more clearly the signs of his times, the +soldier going courageously forward in the great commission, the trader +offering in all market-places treasure that death cannot corrupt, the +evangelist heralding the glad tidings of great joy to a great people. + +Of such stuff are China’s first apostles in the far west. Of such appeal +is the message of the Son of Man to draw alien races unto Himself. To +this end let us have firmer faith in all. + + + + +Bo and Nare, or Found Out + + +“Rub-a-dub-dub! rub-a-dub-dub!” + +Little Bo heard the music, and ran after it. He had been fishing in a +pool with a bent pin for a hook. “It is lots more fun to run after the +band than to fish with a pin and not catch anything,” thought Bo. So he +gave the line to his little sister Nare. Nare wanted to fish before, but +Bo had said, “Girls don’t know anything ’bout fishing.” + +Bo lived in a far country where even fathers don’t love little girls. +Bo did not share his playthings with his sister, as you have done. He +made her wait on him. He didn’t know any better. That was the way Bo’s +father treated his mother. Bo was not white, as are the boys and girls +who read this. He was brown as a berry. So was his little sister Nare. +So were all the people Bo and Nare knew, except two ladies. These white +missionary ladies were Bo’s teachers. They told him about Jesus. But Bo’s +father taught him to worship idols. Bo sometimes wondered which was the +true God. But at this particular minute he only thought about the music, +and ran after it. He saw a great crowd and a priest in the midst beating +a drum. He heard the priest cry in a loud voice, “Let every one keep +silence.” Then the priest looked fiercely at the small boys. Bo began to +tremble, and wish he were back fishing. “On this day week,” again shouted +the priest, “at noon a god will arise from the ground in the field near +our temple.” A second time the drum sounded, and the priest moved on to +convey the news to other villages. + +Everybody began to talk excitedly. “A god rise from the ground!” said +they; “can it be possible?” + +Bo was delighted. “Now I’ll find out,” thought he, “if men make our gods +out of wood and stone, as the missionaries say. I’ll go and see for +myself.” + +That week seemed the longest Bo had ever spent. But the great day came at +length, and Bo was very happy. Nare was not. Nare wanted to go too. She +begged Bo to take her, but Bo answered, “You are only a girl; it doesn’t +make any difference what you think. By-and-bye I’ll be a man; so I ought +to know what is right.” Bo thought it manly to speak so rudely. Why, +even mothers are treated very badly by boys in countries where Jesus’ +teachings are not known. + +So Bo started off alone. He found the largest crowd he had ever seen in +the great field near the temple. In the centre was a vacant space, where +only priests stood. Bo made straight for that spot. But a priest took him +roughly by the shoulder, and said, “The new god will kill any one who +comes inside this circle.” Bo ran back and hid behind a tall man, who +didn’t look afraid. + +It was a silent crowd. Most of the people seemed awe-struck. Every one +was eagerly looking toward the vacant space where the god would rise. At +noon more priests in long white robes came out of the temple. They began +to mutter and wave their hands. The tall man next to Bo said, “Something +black is coming out of the ground!” Bo stood on tip-toe and strained his +eyes to see. + +The something grew larger and larger. Every eye was fixed upon the spot. +Could it be the top of a head? Yes, for the brow, eyes, nose, and mouth +slowly appeared. All this time the priests never once went near. The +big black idol seemed to rise of itself. The crowd, almost wild with +excitement, cried out, “A miracle! a miracle!” + +Bo thought the priests looked much pleased when the people shouted, “’Tis +a miracle!” Soon the priests went into the temple. They didn’t think any +one would dare go inside the circle. + +Now it happened that the tall man who stood next to Bo no longer believed +that idols were gods. “The priests are trying to cheat us,” thought he. +“A rival temple is the favorite, where most money is given. The priests +of this temple are poor. They have made up this miracle in order to draw +more offerings here.” So this wise man said to a friend near, “Let us +make this god grow faster.” The other agreed. They went boldly forward +and took hold of the idol. + +Bo heard people say, “They will surely fall down dead.” + +But no; the god came up quickly—head, hands, body—all complete. Still the +two brave men stood unharmed and actually laughing. They cried out, “The +priests have fooled us; come and see for yourselves!” + +Then, pell-mell, pushing and tumbling over each other, all rushed to the +spot. What do you think they saw? A great pit full of soaked peas. The +priests knew that peas grow larger when left in water; so they filled the +pit with peas, poured on water, placed the idol on top, and covered it +lightly with soil. By-and-bye, when the peas had begun to swell, the idol +was pushed through the ground. + +The people were very angry. They nearly killed the priests, whom they +found feasting in the temple. + +After one long look backward, Bo trudged home in disgust. He could never +again believe in their priests. That evening Bo told Nare his decision: +“We’ll not be afraid of make-believe gods any more. We must pray to the +great Father who lives up in the sky.”—_Selected._ + + + + +Results of a One-Cent Investment in One of Our Country Sunday Schools + + +At a Sunday School missionary meeting, the Superintendent received a +number of letters from the scholars, giving an account of how they had +traded with a cent which had been given them a year ago. It is needless +to say that this was by no means the least attractive part of the +programme. The following are some of the letters as received, in which we +have made no corrections:— + +“I bought a cent’s worth of radish seed and sowed them in a plot of +ground which my Mother gave me. I tended to them with care and sold them +at 5 cts. a dozen. I sold 12 dozen and made 60 cts.” + +“Two years ago I took a cent to see how much I could make for missions. +One year ago I took another cent. I spent them both and gained nothing +with them. You can’t speculate much with a cent. A lady wanted me to do +some work for her and said she would pay me, so I got $1.15 for last +year, but didn’t get it in time for the meeting, and this year I have +added 35 cts. more. Total amount, $1.50.” + +“Bot lead pencils at wholesale and sold them out retail, with the +proceeds bot some sugar and made taffy and sold it for missionaries, +making in all, 58 cts.” + +“I have twenty-five cents to give you for the missionaries. I sold some +cucumbers to a lady for five cents, and the rest Ma gave me for doing +errands.” + +“I earned this money buying and selling rhubarb, 20 cts.” + +“I bought one egg, raised a Pullet and sold one dozen for 20 cts., one +dozen eggs for 15 cents, then sold the hen for 20 cts. Total amount made, +55 cts.” + +“I ernt this fifteen cents by buying and selling eggs.” + +“I bought a patch of potatoes for one cent and tended to them and sold +them for 10 cts., making a profit of 9 cts.” + +“I have just 51 cts. I went errands and washed dishes and did other +little things for it.” + +“I bought beans and planted them and sold them for 3 cts.” + +“I bought with my cent some radish seed, and Mr. Wilson gave me a plot to +sow it in. I watered and weeded them and sold them at 5 cts. a bunch, and +made $1.” + +“I blacked the boots for a month and earned 15 cts. I will try to do +better next time.” + +“My cent I invested in potatoes. I planted and tended them and arranged +with a gentleman to take the potatoes at 40 cts. per bag. I am glad to +hand in my $1 as the result.” + +“I am a very little boy, but I ain’t too small to work. Last year you +did not give me a copper to work with, but I thought I would try and do +something for poor little boys and girls away off in heathen lands, so +last summer I picked dandelions, tied them in bunches, and sold them +around the town, total amount, 5 cts.” + +“Total proceeds, $12.12.” + +“I first bought a can with my cent, and picked berries and sold them. +Received twenty cents.” + +“I bought a row of carrots of my Father for a cent, and had five pails, +and sold them at 10c. per pail, which is fifty cents.” + +“I bought a cents worth of knitting cotton and knit a pair of garters and +sold them for Ten cents. (10c.)” + +“We Bought 2 cents worth of Eggs and Sett them, got 2 chickens, and sold +them for 20 cents.” + +“Bought one ct’s worth of Bootblacking, blackned boots for five cts. +bought five ct’s worth, blackned boots for five cts. a week, got one +dollar.”—_Missionary Outlook._ + + + + +The Schoolmaster’s Lesson + + +The schoolmaster, with the savings of two laborious years, had treated +himself to a fine large microscope. This instrument, in its mahogany +case, occupied a place of honor on a side table. It was a world of +wonder, a more than Aladdin’s lamp to the children, who looked with joy +to the occasions when the schoolmaster revealed to their wondering gaze +its enchantments. Whenever the schoolmaster took a little key from his +vest pocket and approached the sacred altar, where reposed the marvel, +the children stowed their books under the blue desks, and fairly held +their breath with expectation. Any one of them might have the honor of +being summoned as officiating acolyte of the occasion. + +On this afternoon the schoolmaster had a bowl of water and some small +green weeds from the nearest pond. He put some of the green plant in a +large, clear glass. As it floated, the children coming near to look, one +by one saw that the plant seemed supplied with minute green sacs filled +with air. + +“Now, take your seats,” said the master. “This is called a bladder-plant, +from these wee, green bladders, whereby it floats. Listen, and Nathan +will tell you what he sees. Nathan, come forward.” + +Nathan came gladly. + +“Now, tell us what you see in the water, Nathan.” + +“I see little live things; some have little shells on them like mussels, +only they look about as big as tiny pin-heads. Some have little whirling +wheels on their heads. A good many are like very, very wee caterpillars.” + +“Those last are the water-bears,” said the schoolmaster. “Now look at the +bladder-plant.” + +“The bladders,” said Nathan, “are little bags. Their mouths are open. +They are set round with hairs. Some of the bags look full of something, +and dark. Some of them seem to have some live thing kicking in them. Some +are empty, and as you look in at the door it is like a little clear green +room. Oh! I see a water-bear swimming up to one! He looks in. He seems +to think it is pretty. I guess he wants to know where there is something +kicking. He looks in there. Now he goes to an empty one. Now he swims by. +No, he changes his mind. He thinks he will go in. He pokes in his head. +The little hairs at the door bend inward: they let him go in easy. He is +in! Oh! now he is trying to come out!” + +Great excitement in the listening school—eyes wide open, heads bent +forward. + +“Can he get out?” cried someone. + +“No! no! he can’t,” exclaimed Nathan, all eager. “The hairs bend in, and +let him in, but he cannot get by them to go out! They won’t bend out. Oh, +he can’t get out.” + +The schoolmaster now took one of the dark, full sacs, cut it open with a +very fine, sharp instrument, and put it under the glass. + +“Now what, Nathan?” + +“Oh, that bag is full of dead things, of what you might call the bones +of these bits of creatures, the shells off one of those tiny things like +mussels. They are things that have gone in and have got all melted up.” + +“Here is another,” said the schoolmaster, putting a lighter green sac in +place, also cut open. “What now?” + +“That is the very sac the water-bear looked into to see something +kicking. The kicking thing was another water-bear. Now it is dead. The +one that went in just now is kicking, too.” + +The schoolmaster took that sac also, opened it, and released the +struggling water-bear. + +“What now, Nathan?” + +“He is out, but he doesn’t feel good. He doesn’t swim round as he did +before he went in. I think he is going to die, schoolmaster. Oh, here is +another bear just going into a sac. Let him out quick, won’t you?” + +The schoolmaster opened the sac and the freed little animal swam off. + +“He got out, right off, and nothing but him,” said Nathan. “Schoolmaster, +isn’t it queer that when they look in and see the dead ones, and the +bones and skins, or see other ones caught and kicking, and can’t get out, +that they don’t learn better than to go in themselves? I should think +they’d have sense to keep out!” + +“People do not have sense to keep out when the circumstances are just +about the same. Now, all of you children, listen. You know that Nathan +has told you of these little, gay palace-rooms, where the doors open in +and not out, and the things which swim by seem curious to know what is +inside. Some of these gay places hold struggling captives; others are +full of the relics of the dead. Now, that is a little parable to you. +Let the little green sacs stand for places where strong drink is sold. +Those who enter such places form the drinking habit, and then they cannot +get free from it. Persons, yet free, look into these dens for drinking. +They see in them people all ragged, dirty, poor, unhappy, bloated, crazy, +sick, wrecked and ruined victims of the habit. They see yet others who +mourn that they are enslaved, who have a sense of shame and danger, and +struggle to get rid of the appetite that makes prisoners of them, and +will destroy them. In this little plant, when the little animals get into +the sacs, the plant melts up their bodies and seems to suck up their +juice and feed on it until nothing is left but the fine bony parts. So +the unhappy person who goes into a grog shop finds that the dealer feeds +on him until his health and happiness, and money and respectability are +all gone, and perhaps nothing is left of him but the poor body that is +ready for the Potter’s field. Is it not strange that when we see how many +persons are utterly ruined by drink, any will venture into places where +drink is sold, and will even begin to taste the fatal liquor? Whenever +you see a place for selling whiskey, I want you to think of the little +water-bears and other water creatures which enter the snares of the +bladder-plant.”—_Selected._ + + + + +Liu Tsi Chuin + +_Rioter and Evangelist._ + +REV. J. L. STEWART, M.A., B.D. + + +“Ninety-five” is a date of dates among the pioneer workers in West China. +All winter rumors of the doings of foreigners had been floating about +the city of Chengtu, old stories of suspicion and superstition scarce +heard to-day: “Foreigners ate children.” “Doctors pulverized eyes for +medicines, hence their wonderful cures.” “Bodies were buried beneath the +church floors.” “Foreigners having, many of them, blue eyes, could see +into soil and discover hidden treasure as the dark-eyed people of China +might see stones on the bottom of streams.” “Foreigners were there to +seek treasure or territory.” Even high officials, ’tis said, fed the +flame with the hope that it would soon become so hot the “foreign devils” +would flee. + +There were, however, few open acts of hostility during these days. Then +suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, it came. It was the fifth of the +fifth month feast. According to time-honored custom, the crowds assembled +on the great east parade ground, scarce a stone’s throw from the Mission +compound, for the throwing of plums. Vendors, their big baskets well +filled with the fruit still green, had booths, or pushed through the +people everywhere. Everyone bought, sowed his plums broadcast in the air, +then scrambled with the rest, for, aside from the sport, the plums so +obtained were said to ward off sickness, demons, disaster, and brought +good luck for the year to come. As the day grew, masses of roughs and +toughs, many from the yamen, some say, mingled with the thoughtless, and +jammed and jostled together till the air was filled with the hum and hue +of voices, and hearts and heads were half-hysterical for mischief and +riot. + +Already as evening came, the crowd had overflowed past the gateway of the +mission premises. + +“Here’s where the foreign devils live,” said one. + +“Let’s hurl a stone at the gate,” said another. + +“Who dares?” + +Soon one stone by stealth, then a volley, rattled against the big black +doors. The gateman’s rebuke only made the ringleaders more bold. They +fell back when the foreigner appeared; but were at his heels, a howling +mob, when the gates again closed behind him. The rabble rushed to the +point, restraint was thrown to the winds. A riot was on in earnest. + +Into the blackness of the night, two men, strangers, homeless in a +strange, inhospitable land, fled with their heroic wives and hushed +little ones. Then and for hours afterwards, as hiding from street to +street they sought their way to our W.M.S. home, they heard afar the +frenzied shouting, and saw the flames pierce high into the darkness +as church, and hospital, and homes, and goods, and gifts, and many a +treasured heirloom from half round the world became fuel for the fires. +Next day saw the mob’s return to its work of destruction till every +building of every mission in the city, Protestant and Catholic alike, +was in ruins, and the foreigners, irrespective of sex or creed, huddled +together in a few low outer rooms of one of the official yamens. + +Such was Liu Tsi Chuin’s first introduction to the foreigner, for he was +in the thick of the fray on the first night, and followed on next day as +one by one the missionary families fled, and the buildings were looted +and burned. It was a full decade before he came in touch with them again +and then—how changed the circumstances! + +Liu Tsi Chuin was of good family. His name, Tsi Chuin, “Be princely,” +would give a hint, at least, of his parents’ goodness of heart. His +father was the trusted treasurer of a district magistrate not far from +Chengtu. Alas, when Liu was but a child of three the father died. Shortly +after, his little sister also died, and Liu and the little widowed mother +were left alone. His father, however, had been a man of thrift, so that +even after the exorbitant funeral ceremonies were over, enough was left +to buy a neat little home on the Great Well Corner in the provincial +capital, and even some over to be invested for interest. Little Liu was +sent to school. He had friends of his father in official circles. That +would mean influence in the days to come, and that position, promotion, +power, so hope was high in the little household. + +At the age of thirteen a change came in Liu’s life. A relative, of whom +there are ever plenty in Chinese families, had persuaded the little widow +that mints of money might be made by embarking in business. After much +persuasion, she yielded. Was not the interest small? And would not her +boy need more as he grew older? And was she not ambitious for him? The +sums loaned were called in, and the little home mortgaged. + +Soon a great double shop displayed a new and euphonious name. Big +lanterns swung below the eaves. Long boards with letters of gold told +of the virtues of the place, while within hams swung from the ceilings, +various confections covered the counters and long strings of tobacco +lined the shop front close by the street. For five years business went +on briskly. By degrees, however, other relatives and friends attached +themselves till “the money failed to fill the mouths,” and, in brief, +business failed and had to be abandoned. Another venture was made in the +then flourishing opium trade, but their capital was limited and larger +firms outsold them. + +Liu was now a youth of twenty. With the little capital left he tried +running a sox shop. Alas, in his last venture he had lost more than +money. He had lost manhood as well. His countrymen have a proverb, “You +can’t work in a dye shop and keep your clothes unstained.” Liu had +himself fallen a victim to the opium he sold to others. + +[Illustration: The evangelist and his family.] + +The record of his ruin is the old story of China’s sorrow after that. +Sucking his pipe, sleeping, sliding about stealthily from spot to spot, +seeking relief from the fiend which haunted him by day and by night, +he had little time for business, his thoughts were busy with baubles, +trade fell off, goods disappeared, his last cash left him, and despair +and destruction followed fast. It was during those days that he found +himself one of the throng of thoughtless and rowdies, assembled for plum +throwing. The sacking of the missions was but a new excitement with a +possible gain to all, and what could it matter anyhow to frighten away a +few foreigners whom nobody wanted? But that story we have told. + +Liu had married meantime. A little daughter had come to his home. Then +later his wife died. He left the city and sought employment with his +father’s former official friend. The latter gave him a small position +as messenger. But official life is precarious. His benefactor lost his +position, and Liu was once more down and out. He wandered back to the +capital and to his child. + + * * * * * + +No one visits Chengtu who does not find his way some time or many times, +if he has the opportunity, to the Great East Street at night. By day it +is filled with busy buyers at the great silk, tea and porcelain shops, +but by night it is more animated still. When the great shops close their +shutters at sundown, the curbstones are immediately pre-empted by swarms +of junk dealers, curio sellers, vendors of fans, needles, chopsticks, +pictures, rare old bronzes, ink slabs and vases. Here, too, are +diviners, fortune-tellers and fakirs. It is the bazaar of the capital, +once seen not to be forgotten, with its twinkling candles stretching +far away, its lines of squatting vendors, its hum of busy voices, its +clattering, chattering, crowding thousands who throng the thoroughfare. +There with his little store of stuff about him, Liu might be found each +night. The day he spent picking up a few curios from house to house, when +not too busy with his pipe. + +One day he rambled again along the street where in former days he, with +the rabble, had wrought such ruin to the cause of missions. The church, a +new and larger one since those days, stood open. Numbers of people were +crowding in, so he, with an uncle and two friends, sons of his former +official patron, joined the stream. They listened half curiously, half +carelessly, to the prayers and singing, all so strange to them. Something +in the sermon, however, brought Liu to attention. The speaker said that +this God of love could so fill and thrill a man with His Spirit that even +the passion for opium could no longer hold him. Could it be possible? + +Liu was no willing victim to the habit. He had tried all kinds of pills +and strange concoctions guaranteed to cure, or recommended by friends. +He had fought by his own will power till that became so weak he scarce +struggled longer. But here was a new thought from the truth-telling +foreigner, and a new hope. Perhaps this foreign God could help. So at +invitation he, with his companions, waited for the after meeting, where +all are welcomed who have questions or seek further light. + +He became even more interested and came again and again, bringing his +friends with him. Then the ancestral tablet fell down in the official +home one night. The two sons took it as a sign that their ancestors were +angry with their worship of the foreign God, so they came no more. A +month later a storm burst over the city. The thunder, a somewhat rare +thing on the Chengtu plain, so frightened the uncle that he, too, never +returned to the church. + +But Liu was not to be balked in his search. He met others among the +members who had been helped by the foreign pastors and doctors, and he +was determined to be free. The rest of the story is readily told. It +is the story of an ever-increasing number of New China’s sons. Foreign +medicine, earnest counsel from his pastor, daily reading of the Word +which is Spirit and which is Life, prayer and service and the inflooding +of the Spirit of God brought a new power and peace to a life which for +long had struggled and suffered, and been all but slain through sin. + +With health and hope and freedom came also a great longing that others +might know the glad Gospel message. He took to selling books up and down +the very streets where men knew him best. As he went he told his story +in shops, at corners and in the homes of friends. Seeing his sincerity +and ability, our mission soon sent him farther afield, till he traversed +much of the northern district. Then he served for a time faithfully and +effectively in Kiating and Chin Ien. He has now been a year at college +as a probationer. His little daughter is a promising pupil in our girls’ +school. He himself married recently a beautiful young woman, rescued and +reared by our Chengtu orphanage, and they to-day are together laboring +earnestly for the coming of His Kingdom. Thus Liu Tsi Chuin is realizing +in a way his father never dreamed the hope of the “Princely man,” for the +greater Father had need of him. + + + + +Where Do You Live? + + + I knew a man, and his name was Horner, + Who used to live on Grumble Corner— + Grumble Corner, in Crosspatch Town; + And he never was seen without a frown; + He grumbled at this, he grumbled at that; + He growled at the dog, he growled at the cat; + He grumbled at morning, he grumbled at night, + And to grumble and growl were his chief delight. + + He grumbled so much at his wife that she + Began to grumble as well as he; + And all the children, wherever they went, + Reflected their parents’ discontent. + If the sky was dark and betokened rain, + Then Mr. Horner was sure to complain; + And, if there was never a cloud about, + He’d grumble because of a threatened drought. + + His meals were never to suit his taste; + He grumbled at having to eat in haste; + The bread was poor, or the meat was tough, + Or else he hadn’t had half enough. + No matter how hard his wife might try + To please her husband, with scornful eye + He’d look around, and then, with a scowl + At something or other, begin to growl. + + One day, as I loitered along the street, + My old acquaintance I chanced to meet, + Whose face was without the look of care + And the ugly frown that it used to wear. + “I may be mistaken, perhaps,” I said, + As, after saluting, I turned my head; + “But it is, and it isn’t, the Mr. Horner, + Who lived for so long on Grumble Corner.” + + I met him next day, and I met him again, + In melting weather and pouring rain, + When stocks were up, and when stocks were down; + But a smile somehow had replaced the frown. + It puzzled me much; and so one day + I seized his hand in a friendly way, + And said: “Mr. Horner, I’d like to know + What can have happened to change you so!” + + He laughed a laugh that was good to hear, + For it told of a conscience calm and clear, + And he said, with none of the old-time drawl, + “Why, I’ve changed my residence, that is all!” + “Changed your residence?” “Yes,” said Horner, + “It wasn’t healthy on Grumble Corner, + And so I moved—’twas a change complete— + And you’ll find me now on Thanksgiving Street!” + + Now, every day, as I move along + The streets so filled with the busy throng, + I watch each face, and can always tell + Where men and women and children dwell; + And many a discontented mourner + Is spending his days on Grumble Corner, + Sour and sad, whom I long to entreat + To take a house on Thanksgiving Street. + + —_Josephine Pollard._ + + + + +A Bible for a Pistol + +A True Story + + +“See, mother, see what I have brought you!” exclaimed a young Brazilian, +holding up to view a well-bound, gilt-edged book. “Antonio Marques told +me that the priest ordered him to burn it, but he did not like to destroy +so good a book, and was afraid to displease the priest by keeping it, so +I offered to trade my old double-barreled pistol for it. I thought you +might like to have the book, for they say it is all about religion, and +you are so religious. It might be of some use when you go to repeat your +prayers for people who are dying.” + +The mother took the book from her son’s hands, and slowly reading the +title, “A Santa Biblia,” said: “Ah! this is good; this is the ‘Rule of +Life,’ I am glad to have it.” Then beginning at the first of Genesis, she +glanced over several chapters until she reached the tenth. “Yes, you are +right, my son; here is just the kind of prayer I want. Here is a long +list of names, and as they are all in the Bible, they must all be of +saints, and some of them will surely help the poor creatures.” + +The youth frequently found his mother with the book before her when he +came in from his work, and had he taken the trouble to look over her +shoulder he would have found her always reading the tenth chapter of +Genesis. + +The woman, who had the fame of knowing by heart a great many prayers, was +often sent for to go even long distances to repeat them for the hope and +comfort of the dying; and she was faithfully trying to master the long +names, so as to say them off glibly to serve as a prayer. + +One day, as they sat taking their noon-day coffee, a messenger came +from a neighboring plantation, begging her to go at once to see a young +girl who was very ill. With book in hand, she set out, and arriving at +the house a sad, though to her not unusual, sight met her eyes. A girl +of about fifteen lay upon the bed, her beautiful black eyes looking +strangely bright in contrast with the pale features. The parents and +sisters, instead of caring for her, were wringing their hands and wildly +crying out, “She is dying! She is dying!” The sick girl feebly stretched +out a wasted hand, gasping: “They say that I am dying; teach me quickly +how to die; tell me, what must I do?” The old woman gently took her hand +and in a soothing voice said: “Don’t be nervous, dear; if you will repeat +after me the Pater Noster, the Ave Maria, the prayer to St. Joseph and +the rest, and then a new prayer that I have learned from this good book, +you need not be afraid.” + +A sight never to be forgotten by one who knows that there is but the one +“name under heaven, given among men whereby we must be saved,” was this +death-bed scene. The old woman, in clear tones, rapidly repeated among +other things, “Shem, Ham, Japheth, Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan,” and so +on through the long list. The dying girl vainly tried to follow her as +her voice grew fainter and fainter, for she was, with all her failing +strength, clinging to this false hope as she passed out into eternity. + +Some years later, the young man who had gotten the Bible in such a +curious way, married and left the old house to live at the wife’s +homestead. One evening, as the old father sat in his usual place reading, +the husband said: “Anninha, what is that book your father is always +reading?” + +“That,” she replied, “is the Bible. He often tells me about what he +reads, and it is very interesting. I wish I could read it for myself; but +it is a French book, and I can read only Portuguese.” + +“If it is called the ‘Holy Bible,’” said he, “then my mother has it in +Portuguese, for I gave it to her long ago. I never read it myself, but +she used to learn things out of it for prayers. They never sounded very +interesting to me.” + +“Could you get it for me, Jose?” she asked. + +“Yes; I will go over and ask mother for it to-morrow,” promised he. + +When the wife got the Bible, she carried it to her father, who was much +pleased to find this favorite book in his native tongue, and, opening it +at the New Testament, he began to read aloud. The young couple listened +and soon grew so interested that they begged him to go on, till they kept +him reading late into the night. Deeply touched by the “old, old story +of Jesus and His love,” they began to read for themselves. Soon they +learned that pardon and peace had already been purchased for them, and +that what God required of them was not penances and a bondage to fear +through life, and masses and the agonies of purgatory after death, but +child-like faith and loving obedience—that godliness which gives promise +of the life that now is, and that which is to come. + +The son’s first wish was to have his mother learn the good news, so he +carried back the Bible, saying: “Why, mother, you never got the best out +of this book! You only looked for something to die by, and it is full of +good words to live by as well. Let me read you some.” + +“No, my son,” responded she, “I got what I wanted out of the book, and +that is enough for me. I do not care to look for more.” + +“But, mother,” pleaded he, “you would be so much happier if you knew the +true way to live and to die.” + +“Hush, Jose,” said the mother, indignantly. “Do you dare to hint that I, +who have taught so many how to die, do not know how myself? Let me alone, +and do not trouble me any more about the book.” + +The man went back to his wife troubled and disappointed. The more they +studied the book, however, the better they understood that it was God’s +Spirit who had opened their eyes, and to Him they must look to perform +the same miracle upon their mother, that blind one leading the blind, and +for this they are still daily watching and praying.—_Selected._ + + + + +The Giving Alphabet + + +All things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee.—1 Chron. +xxix. 14. + +Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in +mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will +not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that +there shall not be room enough to receive it.—Mal. iii. 10. + +Charge them that are rich in this world ... that they do good, that they +be rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to communicate.—1 +Tim. vi. 17, 18. + +Do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of +faith.—Gal. vi. 10. + +Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give, not +grudgingly or of necessity.—2 Cor. ix. 7. + +Freely ye have received, freely give.—Matt. x. 8. + +God loveth a cheerful giver.—2 Cor. ix. 7. + +Honor the Lord with thy substance and with the first fruits of all thine +increase.—Prov. iii. 12. + +If there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man +hath, and not according to that he hath not.—2 Cor. viii. 12. + +Jesus said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.—Acts xx. 35. + +Knowing that whatsoever good thing any man doeth, the same shall he +receive of the Lord, whether he be bond or free.—Eph. vi. 8. + +Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon earth, where moth and rust doth +corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal; but lay up for +yourselves treasure in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, +and where thieves do not break through nor steal.—Matt. vi. 19, 20. + +My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in +deed and in truth.—1 John iii. 18. + +Now concerning the collection for the saints ... upon the first day of +the week let every one of you lay by him in store as God hath prospered +him.—1 Cor. xvi. 1, 2. + +Of all that thou shalt give me I will surely give the tenth unto +thee.—Gen. xxviii. 22. + +Provide yourselves bags which wax not old, a treasure in the +heavens which faileth not, where no thief approacheth, neither moth +corrupteth.—Luke xii. 33. + +Quench not the Spirit.—1 Thess. v. 19. + +Render unto God the things that are God’s.—Matt. xxii. 21. + +See that ye abound in this grace also.—2 Cor. viii. 7. + +The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, saith the Lord of Hosts.—Hag. +ii. 8. + +Unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.—Luke xii. +48. + +Vow and pay unto the Lord your God.—Ps. lxxvi. 11. + +Whoso hath this world’s goods, and seeth his brother have need, and +shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of +God in him?—1 John iii. 17. + +’Xcept your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the +Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of +heaven.—Matt. v. 20. + +Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, +yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be +rich.—2 Cor. viii. 9. + +Zealous of good works.—Titus ii. 15. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75460 *** |