In journeyings oft; a sketch of the life and travels of Mary C. Nind

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IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

M ^ktit}} x)f ilft HifB anb ^vavtl^

OF

MARY C. NIND.

BY

OKORGIANA BAUCUS.

CINCINNATI : CURTS & JENNINGS.

NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS.

1897.

COPYRIGHT

BY CURTS & JENNINGS,

1897.

Boston Universiiy
School of Theology Library

INTRODUCTION.

IN the Spring of 1894 the duty was assigned
me of making the customary visitation of our
missions in Eastern Asia. The first episcopal
visit to this part of the mission world under the
care of the Methodist Episcopal Church was
made by Bishop Kingsley in 1869. As this was
some years before the planting of our mission in
Japan, and Korea was at the time inaccessible,
his supervision was restricted to our compara-
tively new but promising mission in China.

Since then the field occupied by our Church
has greatly expanded, embracing now large por-
tions of both the continental and insular em-
pires, with a considerable part of the Korean
peninsula.

After my V wife h^d concluded to make the
journey with me, it was thought by us both
that if ''Cousin Mary" could be induced to ac-
company us, our equipment for usefulness would
be largely increased. We were greatly delighted

5

6 INTRODUCTION.

when, after much thought and prayer over the
unexpected proposal, she consented to do so.
While we coveted her companionship in our
prospective journeyings, we were still more
eager that she should visit these fields in the
interest of the work itself.

The work maintained by the Woman's For-
eign Missionary Society in Eastern Asia has
reached a magnitude which few are aware of.
The occasional visit of some one especially fitted
by long experience in the Managing Board in
the home-land, joined to a profound and lively
interest in the work itself, is warmly welcomed
by the missionaries in the field, and can not fail
to prove an incalculable benefit.

This volume gives abundant proof of the
untiring diligence and unstinted devotion with
which this unofficial representative of the Ex-
ecutive Committee sought out every possible
avenue of usefulness in her wide journeyings
through these pagan lands. Nor does it fail to
express the gr-ateful appreciation of her labors
felt by all the missionaries in the fields she vis-
ited. Her genuine interest in the work, as well
as her godly example and singularly wise coun-

INTR OD UCTION. J

sels, made an abiding impression both on the
missionaries and the native Christians.

I gratefully acknowledge my personal obliga-
tions to Mrs. Nind for valuable aid in many
ways, and especially for important information
and suggestions relating to the work of the
Woman's Society.

We were glad that she found it practicable
to tarry in the home of her son-in-law, the Rev.
W. H. Lacy, of the Foochow Mission, and return
at length by way of Malaysia and India.

This brief memorial of our sister's life, and
especially of her visit to the Orient, is from the
pen of one admirably fitted in every way for the
task. I trust it will be welcomed by a wide
circle of readers, stimulating them to a stronger
faith and a more self-sacrificing zeal in the
cause of the world's evangelization.

W. X. NiNDK.

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2010 with funding from

Boston Library Consortium IVIember Libraries

http://www.archive.org/details/injourneyingsoftOObauc

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PAGK.

Chii^dhood and Marriage, 19

Conversion — Childish Ambition to Preach — Re-
markable Memory — First Sermon to her School-
mates— Her Mother's Training — Missionary Zeal —
Out at Work — Suitors — Correspondence Leading to
Marriage — Departure for America — How she Cured
her Husband of Smoking — Business Failure — Go-
ing to War — Faith Honored — Temperance Work —
Sabbath-school Teaching — Unrest of Soul — Becom-
ing a Methodist — Evangelistic Work — First Office
in the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society — Her
"Missionary Baptism" — Husband's Death.

CHAPTER II.

Journey to Japan, 37

Ejected from the General Conference of the Meth-
odist Church — Delegate to the General Conference
of Missions — Ovation at the General Executive
Committee of the Woman's Foreign Missionary So-
ciety— Hard Work as an Organizer — Success in
Raising Money — Refusal to Join the Woman Suf-
fragists— " Missionary Children " — Desire to Visit
them — Objections, and How they were Overruled —
Preparations for the Journey — Farewells — The
Lunch-basket — Illness in San Francisco — The De-
layed Voyage — Storm and Fog — Entering Tokyo
Bay — Excitement of Landing — Disappointed Mis-
sionaries.

9

lO CONTENTS.

CHAPTER III.

'JE>AGE.

Trip to Nagoya, 51

Missionary Grandeur — The Postponed Reception —
Children's-day in Japan — Unique Decorations — In-
vitations to Commencement Exercises — From Yo-
kohama to Nagoya — Sights and Sounds En Route — •
T.he Earthquake City — Seiryu Jo Gakko — Cramped
Quarters— Study of English — Sewing Classes — Com-
mencement Exhibit — Commencement Exercises-
Refreshments — Value of a Sobeisukzvai — Return to
Yokohama — Reflections — Fire — Saved from an
Earthquake — A Woman's Meeting and Second Re-
ception.

CHAPTER IV.

JouRNEYiNGS Northward, 63

Temples of Japan Disappointing — Visit to Asakusa
Temple— The Central Tabernacle— A Methodist
Conference — Effects of the Earthquake — The Har-
rison Industrial Home — A Sick Pupil — The "Sleep
Account" — To Nikko b}' Rail — Nikko not always
Kekko — Hastening Northward — Passport Difficul-
ties in Sendai — Hakodate : the City, the Seashore,
the Mountain — Rumors of War — The Daily (?) News-
paper— War Formally Declared — A Curious Procla-
mation— Uncertain News — Christian Patriotism —
The Friends' Mission Unpopular — War Problems —
Daily Program at the Home — Climbing the Moun-
tain— The View from the Top.

CHAPTER V.

From Hakodate to Hirosaki, 81

The Hot Springs— Basha Riding— At the Hotel— A
Christian Soldier — A Japanese Parsonage — Native
Missionary to the Kurile Islands and his Bride —

CONTENTS. II

PAOE.

Table Conversation — Going to Hirosaki — Delay in
Aomori — A Jinrikisha Ride — "Made a Gazing-
stock" — Glimpses of a Railroad — Welcome to Hi-
rosaki—The "House with an Up-stairs" — The O
Shiro — Iwaki San.

CHAPTER VI.

From Hirosaki to Nagasaki, 105

Invitations to Work — Reception at the Jo Gakko—
The Ivittle Missionary's Mistake— A Woman's Meet-
ing— Impression Made by Aunt Mary — Invited to
Speak in the To-o-gijiku— A Rainy Day— The
"Teachers' Room" — Promptness — A Carriage Drive
— Another Woman's Meeting — The Pilgrims — Leav-
ing Hirosaki — Free from Anxiety — Missionary Bat-
tles—An Adopted Child— A Flooded Railroad-
Work in Sendai — Fermented Wine at a Communion
Service — An Imperial Procession — "Fraud Coils of
Hair"— The "Waterfall House "—Through the In-
land Sea — Kwassui Jo Gakko.

CHAPTER VII.

Travewng in China, 125

From Nagasaki to Shanghai — Sights at the Land-
ing— A Missionar}^ Boarding-house — A Fine Mis-
sionary Residence — A Self-supporting Hospital —
Many Kinds of Bondage — Within a Native Walled
City — Meeting " Emma " — A Trip up the Yangtse —
A Stop at Chinkiang — Conference at Kiukiang —
Pledges against Foot-binding — English Missionary
Work at Hankow — Preparing Tea for the Russian
Market — Excitement Over the War — A Trip to the
Ming Tombs near Nanking — Chinese Temples —
The "Stone cut out of the Mountain "—The China
Inland Mission — Voyage to Foochow — Another Con-

12 CONTENTS.

PAGE.-

ference — The " Matchless Interpreter " — Celebrating
an Anniversary — Thanksgiving at the Consulate — A
Chinese Feast — Chinese Liberality — A Chinese
Bride — An After-Conference Meeting — In a House-
boat— Beautiful Scenery — A Strike — Discomforts of
a Chinese Inn — Greetings at Kucheng — A Sunday
Congregation — Farewell Ceremonies.

CHAPTER VIII.

In and About Foochow, 144

Puzzling Details of Missionary Living — Dail}^ Work
of One Missionary — A Successful Sunday-school —
Christmas Exercises — A Chinese Wedding — New-
Year's Festivities — A Trip with Dr. Sites — An Idol
Procession — Death of Dr. Sites — How she became
" Mother Nind ' ' — Chinese Graves — Government
Examinations — Buildings New and Old — Veteran
Missionaries — Home of a Native Preacher— Re-
markable Converts — Fleeing from the Heat — The
Kucheng Massacre — A Child's Heroism — Mother
Nind's Seventieth Birthday.

CHAPTER IX.

From Foochow to Singapore, 167

Desire to See India — Waiting for a Companion —
"Farewell to China" — Other Good-byes — Mission-
aries in Native Dress — Arguments on the "For-
mosa"— The Stewart Children — In Hong Kong —
" Happy Valley" — A Steep Railway — Saving Money
— On the "Peak" — In Search of Soda-water — Learn-
ing New Words — In a Storm — Nearing Singapore —
The Opening of Work in Singapore — First Sights —
A Gari Ride — The Mary C. Nind Deaconess Home —
A Weary Step — Paying for the Baggage — ^A Trying
Atmosphere — Drops of Malaria — An "Ancient"
Building.

CONTENTS. 13

CHAPTER X.

PAGE.

From Singapore to Rangoon, 191

How Beds are Made in Singapore — A Talk on Cli-
mate— A Eurasian School — A Chinese School— In
Chinese Homes — Sin Neo — A Reception — An Ex-
amination in the Middle Road School — The Malay
a Musical Language — Sunday-school Work in Singa-
pore—A Twilight Service— Children of the Home —
A Unique Boarding-school — How the Day Pupils
get their Breakfast — A Company Meal — The Public
Gardens^" Become a Nice Wife " — Rescue Work
among Japanese Women — Ants and Lizards — The
Shower Bath — Good-byes again — A Day in Penang —
Much Work in Many Languages — Beautiful, but for
Sharks — The Work First — A Cocoanut Grove — A
Mysterious Waterfall — A Signal of Distress — The
- Rescued and the Rescuer — Passengers of the Lin-
dula — Four Houses, but no Home — The Nice Ones
and the Nasty Ones — A Hero, if there ever was One.

CHAPTER XL
In Burma 215

A New Table of Money — Difficulties in the Way of
Finding an Address — Novelty of Driving under a
House — A Tuin-tuin — ''The Prettiest Drive in the
World" — The "Sway Dagon" Pagoda — Renewing
the Gold Leaf — A Beautiful Carving — Story of a
Bell — Buddhas Many and Varied — Mourners makitig
Music — An Accident in the Tufn-tum — Airy Houses
— Laura Gunatilaka — Learning Kindergarten — Per-
tinent Questions — Souvenir from a Burmese School
— In the English Church — A Railway Journey — A
Particular Guard — A Fellow-traveler Embarrassed —
A Religious Feast — A Pretty Picture — A Late Break-
fast—Giving the Tenth — A Burmese Village — Win-
ning the Favor of the Gods — A Favorite Song —

14 CONTENTS.

PAGE.

"Lovely" Children— Simple Dressing— The Tamil
School — Novel Calisthenics — Evening Prayers — A
Missionary Pioneer — Early Experiences — Translat-
ing the Bible — Elephants at Work — Burmese Gen-
erosity.

CHAPTER XII.

First Days in India, 236

Sunday Services on the Lindula — Entering the
Hoogly — A Dangerous Stream — An Open-air Enter-
tainment— The Bareness of an Indian Cupboard —
Taking Advice — Prayer-meeting in Bishop Tho-
burn's Church — Smoke from the Evening Fires —
Strange Fuel — An Informal Tea — The Woman-
preacher Criticised — A Literary Contest and Prize
Exhibition — Winter Vacations — A New Ideal of
Poverty — An Aristocratic Charity Student — Extreme
Self-denial — The Bengali Girls' School— Novelties in
Dress — The Zenana Women's Estimate of the Little
Missionary — Missionary Beginnings as Represented
in a Hindustani School — A Missionary Conference —
"Imitation of Krishna" — Too Busy for Sightsee-
ing—A Drive to the " Gardens "—The Great Banyan-
tree— "Kali Ghat"— The Fakirs and Lepers— The
"Sacred Well"— A Hideous Idol— Why they could
not See the Sacrifice— Watching the Bathers— The
Inconvenience of Drawing Money in Silver — Trav-
eling in India— Overweight Baggage — A Chilly
Night— Arriving in Allahabad— Tents for Guest-
rooms— Novel Introductions — A Successful Meeting.

CHAPTER XIII.

From JubbuIvPur to Lucknow, 254

The Bombay Conference — Deaconesses in the Wo-
man's Conference — A Dark Cloud — Conference En-
tertainment—Churning the Butter— Always in a

CONTENTS, 15

PAGE.

Hurry — " Carrying their Beds with them " — The
Dreaded "Touch of the Sun"— "Hot" Food—
Highly-esteemed Missionaries in Luckuow — Prep-
arations for Christmas — Prayer-meeting before
Dawn — Other Meetings — A Christmas-tree in a Hos-
pital for Native Women— A Feast in a Tomb— With
the " Mother of the Woman's Foreign Missionary
Society" — Three Attractions of Lucknow — Going
to Cawnpore — "For Kuropeans Only" — Industrial
Exhibition of the Indian Christian Association — A
Farewell Reception— Angry Passions in the Girls'
High School — A Visit to the Cemetery — A Conver-
sation at Memorial Well — Memorial Church— Mas-
sacre Ghat — A Parade Service — Watch-night Serv-
ices in Lucknow — A Sunday-school Christmas Fete
— ^A Zenana Party — Shivering in India — Trying to
Drape the Sari.

CHAPTER XIV.

Visiting Two Conferences, 277

Elephant Riding — In the Deaconess Home — Unex-
pected Help on Letters — Many Texts, but Only One
Sermon — The Publishing-House — The Woman's
College — Heavy Burdens — Journey to Sitapur —
Bread Cast on the Waters — An Interesting Mission-
ary Meeting — A Capable Teacher — A New Namesake
— Parting Salaam from School Children — The North
India Conference — The Hospital at Bareilly — The
Orphanage — Contrasts Suggested — The " Grinding
Room " — A Discussion on Christmas Boxes —Isolated
Workers — School for Preachers' Wives^A Financial
Exigency — A Novel Journey — Wellesley School at
Naini Tal— "The Most Lovely Spot on Earth"—
Trip to Budaon — The " Sweepers' Padre " — In Mo-
radabad — A Weavers' Mohulla — Self-support Anni-
versary of the Northwest Conference,

1 6 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XV.

PAGE.

From Meerut to Muttra, 300

Phebe Rowe— Village Work— A Sham Battle— At-
tacked by Hornets — A New Way of Cleaning — Bp-
worth League Work — In a Railway Compartment —
The Fair at Aligarh — A Memorial Bell — A Moham-
medan College — A Mosque and a Temple — The
"Mark of the Beast"— First View of Muttra— Con-
secrated Wealth — Zenana Visiting — Passion for Jew-
elry— A Sacred City — A Beautiful Temple — A Story
of Krishna — A Christian Rest-House — A Pitiful
Tale— "Flora Hall"— On the School Compound.

CHAPTER XVI.

Last Days in Two Lands, 318

Tired of Sight-seeing— "Doing" the Taj— A Trip to
the Fort — A Late Christmas Fete — Becoming Inde-
pendent Travelers — New Companions — A Native
"Zoo" — Museum at Jeypore — School of Arts — In
the Palace of the Maharaja — An Absorbing Novel —
A College for Princes — Traveling Third Class — Un-
der the Doctor's Care — Going to Central Conference
at Poona — The Bishop's Sermon — Ramabai's School
— Unique Weddings — Interesting Zenanas — Sailing
from Bombay — A Crowded State-room — Longing
for England — Returning Health — The Scenes of
her Childhood.

INDEX OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Mary Ci<arkb Nind, Frontispiece.

PAGE.

Street in Hirosaki, 93

Aunt Mary, the Litti^e Missionary, and her

Workers, 97

The **0 Shiro" at Hirosaki, loi

IWAKi San, 105

Hair Ornaments oe a Chinese Lady, 137

A Bridae Sedan Chair, 149

Mother Nind in her Sedan Chair, 157

Mary C. Nind Deaconess Home, Singapore, .... 183

The Bueeock Cart, c , . . 187

Chiedren oe the Home, Singapore, ....<,... 197
Breakfasting on the Schooe-ground, ....... 201

A Tamie Group, 229

A Home in a Tomb, 259

"Each Crumbeing Tower," 263

Church at Meerut, 291

YfJiA^O:^ ISLOWE AND HER TenT, 295

2 17

It was sundown in a country-house near lyon-
don. The little five-year-old of the family had said
her evening prayer as usual, and been put to bed.
She was not yet asleep, however, but lay for a long
time pondering her first new, wonderful thoughts
of God. At last, obeying a sudden impulse, she
jumped out of bed, and knelt once more to thank him
for her good home and many kind friends. Then,
after a little pause, she reverently added, " Please
give me a new heart, and make me your good
little girl." At this, a sweet feeling of peace and
joy stole over her, and, lying down again, she was
soon fast asleep.

In the morning a new life began for this little
girl, so early led to know and love God; and
while she played and romped Hke other children
by the lake and in the garden, and dearly loved,
like them, to exchange her pennies for sweets at
the nearest shop, there was always a warm feeling
in her heart toward God, and a desire to please
him, even in her play. On Sundays she dehghted

19

20 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

in going to Church, and at those times, seated in
a high pew by her mother's side, listened intently
to all the minister said about the God she loved.
She wished, O so much, that she were a boy, and
then she, too, might become a preacher. Often, to
please the child, her mother turned her pinafore into
a gown, and a box into a pulpit, and told her to
repeat what the minister had said. Her memory
alway served her well, and ''first," "secondly,''
even to " lastly," the sermon was heard again from
her childish lips. It came to be the family custom
to appeal to Mary, if any part of the sermon was
to be recalled. One day a chance visitor wished
to refer to a certain head in the sermon of the pre-
vious Sabbath. Poor Mary was sound asleep, and
her sister had to shake her well to make her know
what was wanted of her. Rubbing her eyes, she
began reciting the heads in order until the right
one was reached; then was down on her pillow
again, fast asleep.

It was not until she was twelve years old that
she preached her first original sermon. She had
been tending day-school, but was soon to enter a
boarding-school ; and as she thought of leaving
her little mates, her heart was full of concern for
their eternal welfare. Obtaining permission to
speak to them during the rest-hour, she began from
the text, " Repent ye." Her sermon had three
heads : First, " The meaning of repentance ;"
secondly, "Why we should repent;" thirdly,
" When we should repent." By the time she came

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 21

to the last head, she had grown so earnest and
convincing that her little hearers, already overbur-
dened at the sense of parting, could bear no more,
but burst into tears, and, one and all, continued
weeping through the rest of the sermon. With
such effective preaching in her childhood days,
it was not strange that even so great a man as
Edward Eggleston should say of Mary in later
years, "There is a woman who should be licensed
to preach."

But long before Edward Eggleston's days,
Mary's mother must have realized the gift that
had been bestowed upon her child ; for, often when
she gave her tracts to distribute, she would add,
"And, if you like, you can say a word of exhorta-
tion, too." Sometimes the mother put an empty
basket in her hand, and she and her sister went
out to collect penny offerings for missions. They
were taught to save even bones and rags, to pick
up pins, and to practice every possible economy for
the lyord's work. Once they had a pastor who was,
also, a returned missionary from Madagascar. He
had left his work only because of extreme persecu-
tion instigated by the queen toward Christians, and
was biding his time, no doubt, to return. His zeal
inflamed Mary's, and she resolved to become a mis-
sionary. No sooner was this resolution made than
she confided it to her mother -her mother, who
was such a lover of missions, who had taught Mary
to love them, to save her pennies, and to collect
money from others for them. Surely, her mother

22 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

was the one of all others to tell, the one to be most
interested, most glad. Without hesitation, her heart
bounding with joy in her new-made consecration,
she unfolded her desires. To her dismay, this lover
of missions was not pleased to make a missionary
of her own daughter. "■ I can not spare you," she
said. " You are too useful, too much needed at
home." Neither tears nor remonstrances were oi
any avail, but only obedience. As Mary yielded,
however, with all the strength of her disappoint-
ment, she made another resolve. The new resolu-
tion was a solemn covenant with the lyord that, if
he should ever give her children and all of them
should want to become missionaries, she would
freely give her consent. In after years she was
obliged to keep this covenant in bidding good-bye
to a son bound for South America, and a daughter
for China.

But it was' true, as Mary's mother had said, that
the family needed her help. A place was found for
her as saleswoman in a shop at some distance from
home. She was obliged to board with her employer
in rooms over the shop, and became so homesick
that she feared she could not keep her trial engage-
ment of one month. But a Sunday-school class,
which she began to teach, absorbed her leisure hours,
and she soon had no time for homesickness. Doing
with her might what her hands found to do, she
became so valuable a saleswoman that her employer,
fearful of losing her, often advanced her wages;
and as a Sunday-school worker she frequently re-

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 23

joiced over new souls brought to Christ. During
this period she was laid low with cholera, and pre-
pared for immediate translation to her heavenly
home. Her preparations included the selection of
a funeral text, one that has been characteristic of
her whole busy life.

'' I must work the works of Him that sent me,
while it is day ; the night cometh, when no man
can work."

But night had not yet come to Mary. There
were many works still waiting for her to do.

She was now growing up into attractive young
womanhood, and suitors began to flock about her.
There was one David, who found great favor in
her eyes; and as she told her mother of all her
lovers, she told her, also, how this David had won
her heart. But he did not win the mother's heart,
for he was frail, had inherited a weak constitution ;
and she would not consent to Mary's union with
him. Then Mary was filled with grief, and spent
many a night in weeping for the lover she could
not have. About this time another of her lovers
sailed to America, to seek his fortune in that new
country. Before leaving, he asked if he might write
to Mary. She consented to the correspondence
as with a friend, not lover, faithfully showing every
letter to her mother for her approval. Finally, a letter
came which required very special attention. The
mother approved, the father likewise. But the final
decision must rest with Mary. What should she
do ? She could not assume the responsibility alone ;

24 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

but, for a whole month, by day and night, she
prayed for guidance. At last, James Nind, at work
in far-away America, received the news that the
bride of his choice should be his. But her parents
would not permit her to go all the way to America
alone,- as he had proposed. He must take the long
journey to England for her. This would be a great
drain on his slender purse ; but what will not a man
do for the woman he loves ? He engaged steerage
passage that he might have the more money for the
return trip, and joyfully crossed the sea to obtain
his bride.

And what will a woman not do for the man who
loves her ? She left her lucrative position, her loved
Sunday-school class, her home, her country, to be-
come the wife of a poor man in a new land.

Soon after their marriage, a grievous disappoint-
ment came to her. James came in one day, and,
as was his wont, offered to kiss his wife. She drew
back in evident dismay.

" What is the matter ?" said he.

** I have broken my vow."

''What vow?"

" I solemnly vowed that I would never marry a
man who smoked."

" But do I smoke? It is only once in a great
while that I take a little whiff."

"That 's smoking ; and I said I would not marry
a man that smoked. I can not undo that ; but I
certainly shall never kiss a man that smokes."

The reply was too firm to admit of protest, and

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 25

James was not like the seaman who remarked :
" My wife does not like tobacco. She '11 not kiss
me when I smoke ; so, when I am in port, I have
to give it up."

James was always in port. There were no long
voyages to give him opportunity to indulge his
tastes. His self-denial must be absolute. Still he
did not for a moment think it too great to make
for the kisses of her whom he loved best ; but
wished, no doubt, as he made it, that he could as
easily dissipate all the trials which marriage had
in store for her. Try as he might, however, his
love must impose some hardships which he could
only help to bear. He was poor, and his first busi-
ness ventures ended in such utter failure as to
lay a heavy burden of debt on the newly-married
couple. • They were too honorable to avail them-
selves of the bankrupt law ; but struggled along as
best they could under their heavy load. Working
hard and saving carefully, it yet required ten or
twelve years of constant effort and sacrifice to make
them free.

Then it was that the Nation itself began to
tremble under a far more terrible load. The most
diligent effort and the wisest planning did not suf-
fice to free her. But, in the midst, she was sud-
denly plunged into all the horrors and atrocities
of a great internal w^ar.

Mr. Nind was not drafted ; but the cry of free-
dom so stirred his heart that he felt impelled to
enlist as a volunteer.

26 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

''What do you think," said he to his wife, "of
my going to the war?" What did she think?
What would any woman think, with a family of
little children about her and no way of providing
them with bread? It was with a sinking heart and
flagging courage that she replied: "If it be the
Lord's will for you, you must go. But let us talk
with your mother first, and leave the decision with
her." The mother lived not many miles away,
but anxiety made the short drive long. All the
way they said little, but occupied themselves with
prayer and earnest thought. Both felt, rather than
knew, what was coming. As they anticipated, the
elder Mrs. Nind did not hesitate to reply: "You
have a duty to 3^our home and you have a duty
to your country. But this is the hour of your
country's need."

Mr. Nind's pay, as a private soldier, was thir-
teen dollars a month, which he used scarcely at all
for himself, but rigidly economized, that he might
send the most of it to his family. But, at the
best, how little it was to feed and clothe a wife
and five children! No wonder Mrs. Nind's faith
wavered at thought of deducting, as had been
their habit, one-tenth regularly for the Lord's work !
But she had learned to take counsel, first of her
mother, then of her husband's mother; and now,
in this difficulty, she appealed to her pastor for
advice.

"It does seem hard," he said; "but don't you
think you 'd better trust the Lord a little? Do n't

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 2 J

break your covenant with him, unless it proves
positively necessary."

Her ** little faith" was soon honored by news
of her husband's promotion and increase in pay to
twenty dollars. From this he was steadily pro-
moted until, at the close of the war, he was receiv-
ing one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month
and bore the rank of adjutant. Engaging in many
battles, he had not once been wounded; and his
only illness was an attack of camp-fever. Better
than this, he had passed through the various temp-
tations of army life without yielding, and could
say to his wife upon his return : "I am just the
same as when I left you, Mary."

In harmony with her child-interest in preaching
and missions, Mary Clark Nind had always been
an earnest temperance advocate, serving at the age
of fourteen as president of a juvenile temperance
organization. The adding of Nind to her name
but added fresh incentive to her zeal ; and, amidst
all her busy life as a housewife, the care of her
home never caused her to forget the necessity of
guarding it.

At first she belonged to secret temperance so-
cieties, then so much in vogue. But in her integ-
rity of soul and independence of judgment, she
saw that the paraphernalia and numerous attend-
ant forms and ceremonies of these societies were
but blocking the wheels of progress ; so she with-
drew that she might give the more vigor and en-
ergy to the work itself The Crusade naturally

2 8 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

attracted her, and she was one of the first to enter
the ranks of the Woman's Christian Temperance
Union.

But her interest and zeal in the cause of tem-
perance were never allowed to run away with her
. devotion to other forms of Christian work. For
thirty-five consecutive years she was a Sabbath-
school teacher. She had many pupils in that time —
pupils, no doubt, who came to her class in the
same listless, purposeless fashion which is the
habit of a great body of Sabbath-school pupils who
have a Sunday on their hands and do n't know
what to do with it. But her pupils never came to
a listless, purposelCvSS teacher. She had an aim, if
they did not ; and they were drawn, as by a mag-
net, straight to the Master himself.

With all her directness of purpose, however,
and her success in achieving it, she was wholly dis-
satisfied with herself. There seemed to be heights
that she could not compass, joys that forever
mocked her. For every " up " in her Christian
experience there was a corresponding " down."
Faith ever lacked restfulness ; joy, sweetness ; and
energy, the quietness and confidence which make
the truest strength.

She wondered if it must always be so ; if she
must continue to serve Christ in her weak way;
if she must go on struggling, sometimes conquer-
ing, but often overcome. She talked with other
Christians about it ; but the light that was in them
was no brighter than h,er own, and her distress

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE, 29

deepened. In the depth of her gloom, she sought
out a little, much-despised company of Methodists.
There first the light began to break about her, as
she listened to living testimonies to Christ's power
in saving from every sin and guiding in the way
of holiness.

Often she would slip away from the cold for-
malism of her own Church to enjoy the sunshine
of the little Methodist meeting. She felt this to
be her true Church-home ; and, after counseling
with a wise old lady who was aunt to every one
in the neighborhood, she asked for a letter from the
Church of which she and her husband had long
been members.

" Mrs. Mary C. Nind, who has not walked in
harmony with our Church for a year, requests a
letter to the Methodist Episcopal Churchy and is
hereby dismissed to you."

The Methodist pastor smiled as he read it, but
said that he could receive her upon profession of
faith.

At last the rest and peace for which she had
longed came into her heart, and with it a greater
change in her life than when, in the long ago, she
had knelt by her crib to ask God to make her a
good little girl. Her children noticed it, and one
day she overheard a conversation that startled her :

" Take care ! Mother will scold if you do
that."

" No, she won't. The scold has all gone out
of her."

30 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Small wonder that the grace and sweetness of
daily living speedily won them all to the mother's
Master, when, no matter how many Sunday-school
pupils had been saved, they might have been lost
without it?

In her adopted Church she found more of that
freedom of speech for which she had always yearned.
The class-meeting was a weekly delight to her ; and
so clear and forcible was her speech, that she was
often called upon to address Sunday-school and
other conventions. Once, upon such an occasion,
her earnest, telling words had no less keen and ob-
servant a listener than Mr. D. ly. Moody. Ever on
the lookout for the workers whom the I^ord him-
self had sent into the vineyard, he sought an intro-
duction to Mrs. Nind, and invited her to address
one of his own meetings. Quite overwhelmed, she
could only reply that she must consult her husband
before giving a definite answer.

The consultation brought to her husband's view
much the same kind of a cross as she had to shoul-
der in 1862. It was his turn now to bide by the
stuff, and permit her to go forth to contend with
the hosts of evil. What a heavy cross it was ! He
fully understood its weight now ; and all he could
say was to repeat the words that she had uttered
then : " If it be the Lord's will, you must go."

The work of an evangelist compelled her to
give up her Sunday-school class, as well as the quiet
comfort of a home Sabbath, and brought her into
such prominence that she was named, in an editorial

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 3 1

in the Independe7it, as one of two women who should
be licensed to preach.

Two other women saw this bravely-expressed
editorial sentiment, and carefully noted it for future
use. They were workers in the Woman's Foreign
Missionary Society of the Methodist Church; and
when they came to Winona, Minn., w^here Mrs. Nind
was then living, to organize an auxiliary, they called
upon her at once to ask her to become president of
the new organization.

The call, like that to many another, seemed
inopportune. Family cares were pressing very
heavily upon her. There was so much washing
and ironing, baking and stewing, sewing and mend-
ing, that, ready as she had ever been for every good
work, she felt that this must be refused. They did
not accept her refusal, but presented the claims of
the v/ork again. A second time she refused. A
third time they made a glowing appeal. Refusals
were growing difficult, but acceptance was more so.
There was but one thing left for her to do, and she
did that. She burst into tears. The ladies were-
distressed to see her weep, but were no less per-
sistent. "Tell us all about it," they said; "just
everything that hinders you." Then she gave them
a full account of all the hard work and various
cares that made this new responsibility impossible.
They listened with a sympathetic but not in the
least defeated manner. Their looks but pre-said
what soon fell from their lips : " We can manage
that. We shall hire a servant for you, and then

32 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

you will have time for this extra work." Thus was
Mary C. Nind installed in her first office in the
Woman's Foreign Missionary Society.

With her hands freer than their wont, she ap-
plied herself so zealously to the new undertaking
that the Winona auxiliary was soon known as the
banner auxiliary of the district, and its president
was often in demand to organize auxiliaries on
other charges.

Finally, there came a year when the Program
Committee for the Branch meeting had a serious
discussion. ''Who shall give the annual address?"
was the subject under consideration. Some one
suggested the name of the lady who had given the
address at the previous meeting. Another auda-
cious member proposed the name of Mrs. Mary C.
Nind.

"Who is she?" was the first response.

" Did she ever do such a thing?"

" Won't she make an utter failure of it?"

"We know that Mrs. W. can do it, and do it
well. I think we 'd better have her."

But, strange to sa}^, the audacious member won
the day, and it was decided to give the new un-
known an opportunit}^ to make a failure. As the
time of the meeting was drawing near, the decision
was sent to her by telegram.

In the not very olden days a telegram entered a
household with much the same explosive effect as
that produced by the bursting of a bomb-shell.
This bomb-shell did not fully burst until the tele-

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 33

gram was opened and read. She was wanted to
deliver the annual address at the coming Branch
meeting in St. Louis. She read the words slowly,
and handed the telegram to her husband. "I have
nothing to wear," were her first words. But there
was neither time nor money for a new dress, nor
even for a new bonnet. The short, brown dress,
which had been her best so long that it was hardly in
accord with the prevailing style ; the plain, old-fash-
ioned bonnet, which had served her through many
a summer, — these had to be taken from the press,
where the}^ were as carefully hung and bandboxed
as though in the latest fashion and made for this
particular occasion ; and very hastily she made the
only preparations possible for her journey.

She was to be entertained at the home of the
grandest lady in the Church. This appalled her
quite as much as the responsibility of making the
address; for she knew that, in her old-fashioned
dress and with her plain domestic ways, she would
feel quite out of place in the grand lady's home.
So, at her urgent request, she was given a less pre-
tentious place of entertainment.

There was only one day remaining between her
and the time of giving her address ; and a burden,
greater than that of old clothes and fine places of
entertainment, settled upon her. Early in the
morning she said to her hostess : " If any one calls
on me this morning, even if it should be the Presi-
dent of the United States, tell him I am busy and
can not see him ; and if I am not down to dinner,

3

34 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

do not call me, for I must get ready for this even-
ing's meeting."

Shutting herself in her room, she tried to think ;
but her thoughts were like obstinate children, refus-
ing to come when most wanted. She knelt in
prayer ; but the heavens were like brass above her
head. ' No thoughts from within, no help from
without, and the meeting coming in the evening !
What should she do? What could she do but
wrestle with the angel, crying in her agony, " I will
not let thee go, except thou bless me?" Suddenly
the blessing came, rushing like a flood into her
soul ; and there was her missionary address, hang-
ing like a vivid picture before her mind ; begin-
ning, middle, and end, she could see it all. Taking
pencil and paper, she began to write; but her
thoughts flew too fast to be caught and harnessed.
At dinner, which she did not miss, she animatedly
informed her hostess, " I 've got it, and only wish it
were time to begin." That evening, as she rose to
speak, in her short dress and plain poke-bonnet,
there were those in the audience who wondered
among themselves, and even whispered to each
other, " What possessed the Program Committee to
ask her to speak ?" The members of the commit-
tee who had wanted Mrs. W. said, " I wish we had
insisted upon having her." Even the " audacious
member" must have hung her head in confusion,
and thought, '' How could I have made such a
mistake !"

But the baptism of the morning — her " mission-

CHILDHOOD AND MARRIAGE. 35

ary baptism," she loves to call it — was upon her
still. In clear, forcible language, she presented the
picture she had seen, until her hearers saw it too,
and were thrilled with as deep a sense as she of the
great need of the heathen world and their own
responsibility in supplying it. Some of them told
her this at the close of the meeting, and one man
made quite a speech about the surprise he had felt
at hearing such eloquence from the lips of a plain
little woman.

From this time there was no hesitation mani-
fested by Program Committees in putting Mary C.
Nind's name down for an address ; and when the
St. Louis or Western Branch of the Woman's For-
eign Missionary Society was divided, she was made
corresponding secretary of the part to be known
as the Minneapolis Branch. In this capacity she
began to travel almost constantly; going to one
place to stimulate an old auxiliary, to another to
form a new one, to another to address a missionary
mass-meeting. To most places the request for her
coming was worded to include the Sabbath, and she
would be invited into the pulpit to conduct an
evangelistic service. Thus were her early ambi-
tions gratified, for she had become both preacher
and missionary.

In the midst of these active labors and frequent
journeyings a shadow fell athwart her household.
Over him whose heart had ever been in her keep-
ing, who had faithfully taken his turn in watching
and waiting by the fireside, who never called it self-

'^6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

denial when it was for her, — over him the shadow
had fallen. " Softening of the brain," the doctor
pronounced it. " He will probably live in this con-
dition for years, though he may die quickly. Noth-
ing else is possible."

Then, through a glass darkly, she looked at the
coming years — her busy life cut off with a snap, many
an opening avenue of usefulness forever closed to
her — and she became the lonely watcher by the side
of one bound, mind and bod}^ by a disease worse
than death. She shuddered, and begged the Lord
to be merciful. He was ! The doctor's possible
prediction was verified, and the bound body was
laid to rest; while every one spoke in love and ad-
miration of the freed soul. " He never did a mean
thing in his life," was the testimony of his eldest
son; and the preacher used for his text, "Walk
about Zion, go round about her, tell the towers
thereof."

CHAPTER II.

' 'DETROIT.

Whkn the General Conference of tlie Methodist
Church met in New York in May, 1888, for its
quadrennial session, everybody was expecting a
sensation, and nobody was disappointed. Five
women had been elected as lay delegates, but neither
the women nor the electors knew that they were
eligible to election. The Conference itself had to
confess to like ignorance; and after directing all
of its brilliant lights to an exciting but fruitless
search for the needful knowledge, the women were
ejected.

One of the ejected women was Mary C. Nind;
another was Frances Willard, of the Woman's
Christian Temperance Union. Mrs. Nind was on
her way to another General Conference, to which
she was a dona fide delegate. This was the Gen-
eral Conference of Missions, convening that year
in London. Before sailing. Miss Willard put a set
of resolutions in her hands, requesting their pres-
entation before the Temperance Committee of the
Conference. They were presented, but the com-

37

38 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

mittee absolutely refused to consider them. Then
Mrs. Nind, with happy determination, improved
her first opportunity of addressing the Conference
by producing and reading the rejected resolutions.
Consequently, when the Minutes appeared, they
were found, as desired, printed in full.

On her return to the States, she went at once
to the meeting of the General Executive Committee
of her own Missionary Society, convening at Cin-
cinnati, and commenced her sparkling report in the
following way :

"At the Conference in New York, they said I
was not a minister, which, of course, was true ; then
they said I was not a la3mian, and so gave me no
seat. In London, the}^ called me a laj^ delegate and
gave me a seat. Now, what do you say that I am?"

At this, the secretary of the Baltimore Branch
arose and said, " You are the noblest Roman of
them all." Then there was great applause, and
Mrs. Nind stood blushing so violently that an on-
looker must have thought it had fallen on her
cheeks.

But the journeyings were not all to great Con-
ventions. There were still the short ones here and
there to stimulate w^ork in her own Branch ; then
there were longer ones, stretching even to the Pa-
cific States, that the network of this great organi-
zation might be spread over the mountains and
across the plains, through the cities and in the
hamlets, by riverside and seashore, wherever one
woman lives who loves the Lord and his appearing.

JOURNEY TO JAPAN. 39

There were hard night-rides ; there were da3^s
when food was not convenient; there were peopl .
who opposed the work, and opposed it bitterl}-.
Still there was a never-failing source of comfort to
make the nights easy and the days glad, to remove,
also, opposition from the way. Mrs. Nind knew
just how to pray away her trials and difficulties.
One time, as she had so often done, she started to
organize work in an entirely new locality. The
most influential and wealthy woman in the Church
did "not believe in missions," and fought the new
undertaking, not with sword nor with pen, but
something far mightier than either — her tongue.
It became impossible to organize, not alone in this
woman's Church, but anywhere in the surrounding
country. Still Mrs. Nind did not give it up. Her
prayers grew in definiteness, and were now directed
toward the chief cause of all the difficult}^': "O
lyord, if it be thy will, cause her opposition to be
overcome ; or, failing that, remove her from the
way."

The woman was present at the next meeting,
seemed touched, and at the close, made an offering
of twenty-five dollars to the work. But this was
only to ease her conscience. The opposition still
continued, until a sudden illness, resulting in death,
did, literally, as Mrs. Nind had prayed, "remove
her from the way."

After this remarkable answer to prayer, some
of Mrs. Nind's friends laughingly professed great
uneasiness in her presence; for, they said, '* If we

40 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

do anything to displease you, you may pray us out
of the way too."

She was not alone an organizer. As a Branch
secretary, she became responsible, at each annual
meeting, for a large sum of money which she
must manage to raise during the year. Her early
training with a basket, collecting penny gifts for
the Lord, came to her aid in this work. There were
still many penny offerings to collect ; but the basket
was so much larger now, that many a time she was
obliged to ask for great things. But asking first
of the lyord, she became so successful in this branch
of the work that it was said of her, as of a famous
collector of Church debts : " Her funeral text should
be, 'And it came to pass that the beggar died also.' "

Her success in all branches of the work led to
an earnest request from the woman suffragists to
join their ranks; but her only reply was in the
words of Nehemiah : "I am doing a great work,
so that I can not come down.'''

Going about here and there, and always speak-
ing for missions, her earnest words not seldom fell
on the ears of Christian young women whose
consecration took on new hues in their light, and
led them to make the "reasonable sacrifice " which
she desired. Sometimes they were needed in In-
dia, sometimes in China or Japan ; but wherever
they were sent, their minds never failed to turn to
her as their "missionary mother."

Her own son had already gone to South Amer-
ica, and a daughter was stationed with her husband

JOURNEY TO JAPAN. 41

in Foochow, China. Many a time, when engaged
in work on the Pacific Coast, her mother-heart
yearned to cross the great waters, and it seemed
as though she must " run over and see Emma."

Loving, appreciative friends thought she ought
to " run over and see Emma," and once a purse
was all but raised to send her. But " times were
hard," and money was sorely needed in the work;
so, with her usual firmness, their desires and hers
were set aside.

■' Only a year later the subject was broached
again. She was now resting in her own little
home in Detroit, Mich. ; but was under engage-
ment for a number of thank-offering services, which,
with birthday and other anniversary offerings, she
had been among the first to utilize.

She was no longer a Branch secretary. She was
growing old, and for some years had kept a friend
under promise to inform her just as soon as she
saw that power was waning and strength growing
weak. If the promise were kept, she would know
when to resign. But growing fearful at the long
delay, she had already established in her place the
friend who had made the promise.

It was a relative, and one holding high position
in the Church, who came to her, and made the sec-
ond suggestion that she " run over and see Emma."
He was soon to start, with his wife and two sons,
on an episcopal tour to Japan and China. Would
she not go with him to help him in the Confer-
ences, and to be company for his family on the

42 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

journey? "How can I?" she replied. "I have
not money enough for such a trip; I am not 3^oung
and strong any more ; I have many engagements
to fulfill; and I can not leave my home so long."

But there was tugging at her heart the old de-
sire to see, not only her daughter Emma, but all
of her missionary daughters, and to behold in the
flesh the mission work which she had loved, and
for which she had toiled her life long. She arrayed
her objections in order:

First: "I have not money enough for such a
trip." But children and other friends declared they
would, each and all, be her bankers, before they
would see her lose the trip for this cause.

Second: "I am not young and strong any
more." Calling in her family physician, she re-
ceived his counsel. "If you are careful of your
general health, and do not drink water without
first boiling it, I see no reason why you should not
take the trip."

Objection No. 3: She could answer this without
consultation; for she knew that, with this journey
in view, all of her engagements could easily be
canceled.

For No. 4, she had to call in the members of
her household, and have a long serious talk with
them, which resulted in the decision that home
cares need not keep her.

The removal of these objections helped not a
little in deciding the, to her, most important
point of all: Was it the Lord's will for her to

JOURNEY TO JAPAN. 43

go? If SO, she knew she could trust Him to sup-
ply every need; and in that faith began her prep-
arations for the journey. She had only three weeks
in which to make ready ; but long apprenticeship
at traveling had made her feel that she is usually
wisest who takes least.

Only one trunk, and that the size known as
*'half" or "hat" trunk; a small hand-bag, and a
shawl-strap! She was not tempted to carry any
fine dresses, for she had none; only plain, sensible
ones, that fold easily ; some thick, some thin. Her
shoes were stout, and she carried an extra pair;
her best bonnet, which had already served her
well for ten years, was made modern only by the
addition of a fresh ribbon. All these were put in
her trunk, with her Bible and writing materials.
Her shawl-strap inclosed her shawl, her home-made
steamer rug, and a pair of rubbers; a well-made
English mackintosh was to serve as a traveling
cloak. A strap was fastened to her hand-bag, so
that she could support it from her shoulders; and
in its inside pocket was placed a most important
paper, her doctor's certificate of vaccination.

The last Sabbath before starting came. She
had told few people of her plans; for she dreaded
the influx of callers, which was sure to follow, and
for which she had no time. But feeling too much,
like a mother running away unawares from her
children, on the last Sunday she asked permission
to say a few words to the Sunday-school.

The " cloud had arisen," she told them, and

44 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

now she was to follow it across the Pacific Ocean,
into the dear mission-lands of Japan and China.

That afternoon, as she was enjoying one more
Sabbath's quiet with the dear ones at home, the
door-bell rang, and a letter was handed in. Open-
ing it, she found inclosed a check for fifty dollars,
signed by one of the members of the Church.

On the first day of May, 1894, as many a little girl
in Detroit, and out of it, was busy filling dainty
little baskets with flowers, a different kind of May-
basket was being prepared in the Nind home.
This was large and strong, and was filled with
sandwiches, and cakes, and fruit enough to last
through the five days' journey across the continent.

Long before train time, friends began to gather
at the depot. Upon the arrival of Mrs. Nind with
her cousin-bishop and his family, they were all
permitted to pass the gates, and the great company
stood by the train singing "Blest be the tie that
binds" to those who were going forth, not to sever
any ties, but to make stronger and more blessed
the tie that binds the world together.

At Chicago they were joined by two outgoing
missionaries; and, though their train left at mid-
night, another company was in waiting to say
good-bye. This time the great depot echoed with
the sound of prayer, which must have fallen
strangely, in the hush of the night, on the ears
of other travelers.

Not all of our travelers had provided themselves
with lunch-baskets; but had rather thought it wise

JOURNEY TO JAPAN, 45

to take advantage of the hot meals served in din-
ing and buffet cars. They were Uke a family
party; and not alone by her nephews, but by
others as well, was Mrs. Nind often addressed as
Aunt Mary. These younger members of the party
were greatly distressed because Aunt Mary per-
sisted in remaining by her lunch-basket, and tried
again and again to take her into the dining-car
with them. Once only they were successful in
their efforts, and this time under pretext of its be-
ing a birthday party, and so incomplete without her.

Upon their arrival in San Francisco they were
snapped up, as if they themselves were new and
specially toothsome morsels, by a waiting host of
committees; and they were assigned to sermons,
addresses, and a big farewell reception, before the
dust even of travel had been removed. The fa-
tigue of the journey had less chance still ; conse-
quently, when the day came for sailing, one of the
party was too ill to go.

It was an unpleasant situation. They were ex-
pected in Japan by that steamer, and there was no
way of sending word ahead except by expensive
cablegram.

The party divided; the missionaries going on,
while the bishop and his family remained behind
with poor, sick "Aunt Mary." Did it look then
as though she had made a mistake; that the doctor
had given hasty, unreliable counsel; that she had
substituted her eagerness to go for the lyord's will
in sending her? She thought it all over carefully,

46 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

even anxiously; and concluded she had made a
mistake, not in believing it to be the lyord's will
to send her to Japan and China, but in essaying to
do so much work at the end of a long, fatiguing
journey. "This is a lesson to me," she said. "I
must heed it, and endeavor to stop this side dan-
ger-line. "

The hours of pain and suffering were bright-
ened by the kind attentions of many friends.
With their flowers on her table, and earnest words
of prayer in her heart, the days sped until she was
quite well, and another steamer was ready to sail.

A voyage across the Pacific is memorable, if in
no other way, for its length. To those accustomed
to cross the Atlantic in seven days, seventeen
days, without sight, even, of other sails, and with
a short list of passengers, mostly sea-sick, are not
soon to be forgotten; for they form the most "out
of the world," thoroughly blank portion of many
people's entire existence : like a dreary sickness,
which separates one, for days and weeks, from all
that concerns other people, and confines thought
and feeling to the smallest possible compass — that
which concerns one's self.

The Rio de Janeiro was known by the unmis-
takable depreciative appellation of " a slow boat."
Add to this, unusually rough weather, and it is
no wonder that one member of the Nind party
should exclaim with youthful zeal and determina-
tion, " If I ever get ofi' from this ocean, I shall
•never get on another."

JOURNEY TO JAPAN. 47

Two of the seventeen days were pleasant; and
once the apparent boundlessness above and below
was limited by the outline of another ship against
the horizon. But, mostly, the fog-horn blew, rob-
bing them of happy thoughts during the day and
comfortable dreams at night ; and all the time the
old ocean "heaved and dashed and roared" with
such fury that *' Ailnt Mary" found it impossible
to make daily entries in her journal. Still, though
on the defensive continually, she did not once
succumb to sea-sickness. Her Detroit friends were
praying for her, she knew; and their prayers
seemed like a wonderful life-preserver, warranted
to protect her from dangers within the ship as well
as from those without.

On the last day of the voyage, as the Rio
entered the still waters of Tokyo Bay, she grew
quite steady, and a corresponding change came
over her passengers. Some now made their first
appearance on deck, and, lying pallid and thin in
long steamer-chairs, had few ideas to interchange
other than " I never suffered so in my life," " I
thought I should die," "O, the sea is dreadful!"
"I wish I didn't have to go back." Others were
on the alert, straining eyes and opera-glasses in
their efforts to get first glimpses of the fairy-land
of their dreams. The steerage-passengers, too,
w^ere swarming out; and, mostly Chinese, with a
few women and children among them, all dressed
in their brightest, gayest colors, they made a pic-
ture which vied with the land in attractiveness.

48 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

But that land! Did ever trees and grass and
shrubbery look so green as when after a loUg voy-
age over a stormy sea ? It was not enough to say,
" It is green." One wanted to shout, *' How green,
green, green it is ! "

Then, when the clouds dispersed, and Fuji's
shapely head appeared above a ruff of glorious
white, one was satisfied, as with a great feast after
a weary fast.

Even the water now held plenty to interest:
steamers, men-of-war, and merchant-ships of all
nations ; Japanese schooners, junks, and sampans
without number! One could easily be patient
while the health officer went his round of inspec-
tion, though the plague in Hong Kong had made
him more tedious and thorough than usual ; and
when the great steamer came to anchor, it was dif-
ficult to feel the hurr}^, manifested by some, to get
to shore just as soon as possible.

The steamer was surrounded by a crowd of
sampans, whose occupants, with little covering
other than their dark skins, were making a frantic
effort each to get his own boat nearest; and, fail-
ing this, were jumping into one another's boats
and clambering over one another's shoulders,
bound to get on deck any way. In their naked-
ness and dextrous movements, they looked more
like monkeys than men; and one poor missionary,
filled with sudden fear, whispered to another,
*' How are we ever going to teach such people as
these?"

JOURNEY TO JAPAN. 49

As the sampans began to disperse a little, each
laden with its own part of the plunder, a larger
boat, under the direction of Americans, could be
seen approaching. They looked anxiously toward
the upper deck and scanned the faces of all who
stood there, in their eagerness to know if their
friends had come. lycss than a fortnight before,
they had been out on a similar errand. Without
one thought of disappointment, that time, invita-
tions had been issued for a large reception to be
given their distinguished guests, and announce-
ments had been made in all the churches of a ser-
mon and baptismal service by the bishop the com-
ing Sabbath. When they went to the ship and
found only missionaries, the latter, naturally, missed
something from the welcome for which they were
waiting. " Mrs. Mary C. Nind was taken sick in
San FrancivSco, and the bishop and his family
waited over with her till the next steamer," they
hastily explained. The receiving missionaries were
very sorry, and told of all the invitations that must
be recalled, and the baptismal service to be post-
poned. ''But we are glad to see fresh workers.
Welcome to Japan !" they added.

They had recovered themselves, and were now
so cordial and kind that the one new worker, who
had found it very hard to leave her traveling com-
panions in San Francisco and come on ahead to be
a herald of disappointment, soon found it quite as
hard to disengage herself from their hospitable en-
treaties and continue her journey to her appointed

4

50 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

station in the North. But no one is ever more
strongly upheld by a sense of duty than a mis-
sionary under her first appointment; so the first
steamer out from Yokohama northward bore, per-
haps, the loneliest, most homesick passenger that
ever traversed Japanese coasts. The ship was
manned by a Japanese crew, even to the captain;
not one person on board to whom she could say a
word of Knglish, and their jargon, of course, it was
impossible for her to understand. Once, when the
ship came to anchor in a port e7i route, the shouts
and general noise attendant upon the lading and
unlading of freight so terrified her that she shut
herself in her cabin, not daring to venture outside
until all was quiet again.

"Aunt Mary" was not the only one who had
acquired wisdom through her illness in San Fran-
cisco. The missionaries in Tokyo and Yokohama
had not made the mistake this time of planning for
their friends before their arrival. Still there was
no lack of hospitality in their reception. Jinrik-
ishas in plenty were at hand, and, tucked in with
much hand-baggage stowed about them, they were
rapidly and, like every newcomer, laughingly
drawn along the Bund and through several busi-
ness streets, to be pushed at last up a steep hill ; for
they were to be domiciled in mission homes on the
Bluff.

CHAPTER III.

o FUJI

"This looks pretty grand," she thought, as she
glanced at the high walls and noted the spacious
rooms in the home where she was entertained.
"How much larger and finer it is than my little
home in Detroit!" But "Aunt Mary" wisely said
nothing. She had often heard missionaries criti-
cised for the luxury and expensiveness of their
living, and now she was to see for herself!

Invitations were soon issued for the postponed
reception, and, at No. 13, Tsukiji, Tokyo, the Nind
travelers met and addressed a large company of
missionaries and Japanese Christians. Upon hear-
ing "Aunt Mary," the latter wondered greatly, ex-
pressing their surprise in the words, " S/ie is so
^tro7igy

Children's-day was just at hand; and, in almost
every church in Japan, committees were on the
alert to make it a success. Classes had been
taught to recite long passages of Scripture in con-

51

52 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

cert, and now must be trained to go on the platform
in order, and bow all together, if such a thing were
possible, at beginning and close of the recitation.

There were class songs, too, where much the
same drilling was required. Speeches, written by
teachers, had been memorized by small boj^s, who
were sure to deliver them with great fervency and
gusto. lyarger boys wrote compositions, which
they were taught slowly to unfold before the audi-
ence, and, after reading, as slowly refold before
taking their seats. All the children had been re-
quested to bring something for a collection; but
lest they should think it much giving and nothing
receiving, the benevolent teachers had selected
their prettiest cards for distribution that day.

But the best part of the preparations there, as
everywhere for Children's day, consisted in the
decorations. What quaint mottoes they made of
beans, cakes, fruits, even of black, ugly charcoal!
How tasteful their arrangement of flowers ! Their
beauty was not destroyed by pressing them into
stiff, unnatural forms ; but each one, set on its own
native branch, drew moisture from a simple bamboo
vase, which was fastened, now by a window, then by
a door, until a plain, bare church became trans-
formed into a bower of beauty, an apparently liv-
ing, growing garden. If " Aunt Mary " could have
attended every church in Japan that kept Chil-
dren's-day, she would have seen in all much the
same things to enjoy, and would have heard about
the same things that she could not understand.

TRIP TO NAG OVA. 53

Not being able to compare, she pronounced the one
she did attend in Yokohama, most excellent of all,
because, forsooth, a woman presided. This woman
was the gifted wife of Mr. Ninomiya, who had
served his church as lay delegate to General Con-
ference.

June not only brings Children's-day, but,
throughout America, it is known as Commence-
ment-month. The Japanese wisely give their an-
nual examinations and confer diplomas in the
spring. But missionaries are slow to adopt in their
schools the ways of schools about them, even
though they may be better; so it happened that a
great many invitations to Commencement exercises
came flooding in upon the new arrivals. The
Girls' School at Nagoya closed early, giving them
ample time to return to the later ones in Tokyo and
Yokohama; so the ladies ventured to accept that
invitation first.

It is a 1 all-day's journey from Yokohama to
Nagoya; but one of which even an old resident does
not tire, and how much less a stranger! To the lat-
ter everything is interesting : the narrow coach, with
long cushioned seats at either side and a short
one across one end ; the funny little three-cornered
toilet-room at the other end (for this is an English
compartment car and opens at the sides) ; the pas-
sengers with their blankets, kori, and smaller bun-
dles tied infuroshiki. The Japanese, though very
fond of their railroads, do not as yet seem to belong
to them. Dressed in English uniform, they make

54 IN JOURNEYING^ OPT.

most courteous, faithful officials ; but as passengers,
bareheaded, with towels twisted about their necks,
skirts dangling at their ankles, and clogs on their
feet, they look out of place rushing along a sta-
tion platform or boarding a train. Inside the car,
they can make themselves comfortable only by
spreading a blanket on the seat and sitting on it,
with feet drawn under them, as if it were their own
tatami at home. At all the larger stations, the shrill,
but not loud, cries of "Cha!" " Bento ! " can be
heard ; and passengers exchange a few coppers for
a nice pot of hot tea, and a few more for a box
of freshly-cooked rice, with chopsticks attached.
Sometimes another box goes with this, filled with
fish and other condiments ; and if the bento con-
sists of only one box, an end is partitioned off" for
the condiments. At one place on this road, one
can buy very nice sushi, in which the rice is pre-
pared with lobster and many other good things.

The Japanese do not have regular hours for eat-
ing, but buy their bento when they can, and eat
when the}^ get hungry. The cha (tea) they drink
all along the way, getting a fresh pot as soon as one
is empty.

The seyojin (foreigner) may tire of these things :
but there is one sight on the road of which he
never grows weary. If it be a clear day, Fujiyama
comes quite near, so near that she seems no longer
a cold, ethereal visitant, but a warm, close, real
friend. There is her standing-place, down among
sunny rice-fields, and looking at her gradual, even

TRIP TO NAGOYA, 55

slope upward, high aspirations grow, and perfect
union between the earthly and the heavenly seems
less difficult than before. Sympathy grows, too,
with the national love of mountains, and one tries
to imagine one's self " only a heathen," with no
better god to worship, and many worse.

Nagoya was known to our travelers as the scene
of the great earthquake of 1891, which had been
described to them so vividly that they had almost
felt the shocks and endured the consequent sus-
pense and anxiety experienced, not only here, but
throughout the surrounding country. As they
alighted at the station, and their jinrikishas were
rolling along the smooth, beautiful roads of the
city, they unconsciously looked for traces of that
disaster. There might be fissures in the ground,
or debris of overthrown houses, or, at least, bare,
desolate spaces not yet rebuilt. But, to their sur-
prise, only row upon row of neat, well-tiled Japa-
nese buildings passed before them, all bearing an
unmistakable air of thrift and prosperity. Many
of the homes, with their gardens, were protected
from the street by walls, which were often roofed,
like the houses, with tiling. High, forbidding
gates or doors were the only means of entrance.
Before one of these, their jinrikishas stopped. The
Seiryu Jo Gakko ! A high-sounding name, and an
imposing entrance ! But what did they find in-
side? A few low, rambling buildings, which, put
together, formed the school and home for the mis-
sionaries ! As they entered the tiny genka, utilized

55 IN JOURNEYINGS OFl.

as a reception-room, passed across one corner of the
tiny next room, used for both study and dining-
room, into a tinier room made somehow to inclose
a bedroom set, it is safe to say that no one thought,
" How grand it is!" Even a short person, without
much tiptoeing, could reach the ceiling, and a large
person would, too easily, fill the space between wall
and bed, and bed and bureau. The little parlor
opened on a garden, which never allowed itself to
be kissed by the sun, but held the rains in such
long embrace that the house was permeated with
the moisture.

The school-rooms were small, dark, inconven-
ient in every way. It had taken two or three to-
gether to make a chapel, and the unevenness in the
floor was harrowing to a visitor who came upon it
unawares.

Within these cramped quarters a girls' school
was flourishing ; and aside from thinking it a trifle
semai (narrow, or small), no lack whatever was felt
by any of the pupils. They had never seen a finely-
lighted, well-ventilated, perfectly-heated school-
building. They knew nothing of the apparatus,
the specimens, the books considered essential to a
well-equipped school in America. Each girl had
her own books, the teacher having recourse to a
few others, probably from his own little library.
There were a few large maps; but geography, like
other branches of study, was imprisoned in the
ever difficult, incomprehensible Chinese ideograph,
and must be freed by most laborious effort, on the

TRIP TO NAGOYA. 57

part of both teacher and pupil, before one grain of
knowledge could be appropriated. Their study,
necessarily, was largely a study of signs and char-
acters. When, therefore, they came to their Eng-
lish recitation, and found only twenty-six letters to
acquire, it seemed to them like the merest child's
play. With astonishing quickness they learned to
read. In conversation they were shy, but soon
learned to understand. In penmanship and com-
position they excelled, and took intense delight in
penning long, beautiful epistles to their teachers,
American friends, and even to their schoolmates.

No matter how semai it may be, every girls'
school in Japan must have what, alas ! is not often
found in an otherwise good American school — a
sewing-room.

This room has no desks or benches, but is car-
peted with soft, thick tatami (padded matting), like
the rooms of any Japanese home. For long pe-
riods, three or four times a week, each class is sent
to the sewing-room. There, on their knees, in a
semicircle about their teacher, the girls make a
low, ceremonial bow. Then they take out their
work from the various boxes and bags which they
have brought with them. For thimbles they wear,
midway on the finger, an indented ring of metal,
or sometimes only a band of leather; their skeins
of double thread are wound on squares of thin,
pretty wood; their needles are short and thick.
For their first lessons thej^ practice making even,
rapid stitches down the edges of long strips of

58 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

cloth. Often, to encourage rapidity, they are
started off together, and the child who reaches the
end first shouts, "Ichi!" (one); the next, "Ni!"
(two) ; and so on, — the teacher keeping a record
as though it were the first heat of a veritable race.
As .they increase in skill they are allowed to bring
their jiban (shirts), and then their kimono, until
they learn to make all of their own clothes, and
are able to do a large part of the family sewing in
the school-room, under the teacher's eye.

Often instruction in knitting, crocheting, and
various kinds of fancy work, is interspersed with
the sewing lessons. In the Seiryu Jo Gakko many
of the older pupils have become skilled in the art
of flower-making. On Commencement-day, with
their examination papers and fine specimens of
character painting (Japanese writing, but properly
called painting because done with a brush) and
drawing, there were exhibited to visitors delicate
flowers, fancy caps, stockings, mittens, and neatly-
folded clothing, made in the sewing-room. This
exhibition interested our travelers quite as much
as the exercises, which, though novel in arrange-
ment, were formal and tedious. The guests were
seated opposite the pupils. When one was called
upon, she arose, and wnth slow, measured step
moved forward until, upon reaching the proper
crack in the floor, she halted, bowed, with her
hands in front of her until they reached her knees,
and her body formed a perfect right-angle; bring-
ing herself into position, she drew her bwi Qap-

TRIP TO NAGOYA. 59

anese composition) from the folds of her capa-
cious sleeve, unfolded it, and proceeded to read in
high-pitched, monotonous tones, which did not
cease till she had read her name and the date of
the performance; still, with the same leisurely air,

. the bun was refolded, replaced in the sleeve, and
the pupil retired. English compositions, recita-
tions, and songs proved fairly intelligible ; but there
were the speeches — speeches to graduates, speeches
to undergraduates, welcome speeches to guests, re-
plies from the guests, including more speeches to
students. By the time the speeches were finished,
even the seyojin could appreciate what followed.
The lady teachers and some of the older pupils
withdrew, to return forthwith, bearing great trays
filled with paper packages of cakes, and other trays
containing tiny, saucerless cups of tea, to refresh
tired speakers and weary listeners. There was
much art observed in the serving, the most hon-
ored guests being approached first, and with the
finest cakes ; then the other guests and the teach-
ers. Of the students, the graduating class were
first waited upon, and with a finer variety than the
others.

The Sotsugyoshiki (Commencement exercises)
were succeeded by a Sobetsukwai (farewell re-
ception).

One of the missionaries was to return to
America, and no possible stretch of Japanese eti-

._£Uette would admit of her leaving without a proper
farewell reception. Parting presents, too, came in

6o IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

such numbers, and even bulk, that it was difficult
to find places for them either in the little home to
be left or in the boxes to be sent. Some of them
were family heirlooms of great value and antiquity,
each bearing so distinct a character that duplicates
were impossible. Little wonder that a missionary,
fresh from her Sobetsukwai, should say to a tourist,
"If you want really fine souvenirs of Japan, just
stay and teach long enough to have a Sobetsukwai T
Not alone was the returning missionary thus
generously treated — her guests also were made re-
cipients of many favors, among which were well-
executed specimens of the school-girls' own handi-
work. Enriched by these, and more by glimpses
given with them of great possibilities of love and
loyalty and sacrifice, beneath an apparently unruf-
fled, formal exterior, they returned to Yokohama.
In the long life that had gone before, the books on
missions, the correspondence with missionaries,
their addresses, — nothing had brought Aunt Mary
so near the heart of the Orient, in such close touch
with the real life and work of the missionary, as
the few days in Nagoya. She felt as though she
had been trying to climb a mountain; but slowly
plodding at its base, suddenly she had come upon
a tramway, and been carried swiftly to the top.
How changed everything was! Slopes that had
seemed gentle and easy from below, were now
found to be jagged and rough; and in places that
had looked steep, level swards, making delightful
resting-places, were discovered. How could she

TRIP TO NAGOYA, 6 1

make others see what had now become clear to
her ! How could they from below understand the
things above!

That night in Yokohama the rapid ringing of
bells, suggesting a fire, brought her quickly to the
window. Looking down, she saw rows of swing-
ing, swaying lanterns, all converging in a cloud of
thick, black smoke. Soon a bright blaze burst forth,
and she could see that they were carried by men,
who were running to the fire from all directions.
The firemen were out, too, with engine and hose-
cart ; but what could they do with the pretty bon-
fire of paper and straw ! The best work was done
with hooks and ladders, tearing down surrounding
buildings. In this way the fire was checked, but not
until five thousand people had been compelled to tie
their belongings in blankets and go forth to seek
shelter in the home of some relative or friend. The
next morning in the smoldering ashes of their
homes, little was to be found, other than broken
tiles and a few charred godown (fire-proof store-
houses) ; but with ready spirits, like a boy whose
play-house has fallen, they hastened to clear the
ground and erect anew their tiny homes of wood
and paper and straw.

After the fire, an earthquake ! It was only a few
days later. Aunt Mary was in Tokyo, at No. 13 Tsu-
kiji, where the reception had been given. Busy in her
room, preparing for a women's meeting, all at once
she heard a heavy sound like a peal of thunder.
The floor began to upheave and roll as if at sea.

62 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

She arose and started to leave her room, hitting her
knee against a falling chair and table as she went.
Reaching the hall, she met the others in the house
coming from their rooms. She was the first to
speak : " What is to be done ? Shall we stay here, or
go down stairs?" Her hostess falteringly replied:
"I hardly know. Suppose we go below?" As
they started, the chimney in the room just vacated
by Aunt Mary, fell with a crash through the floor
into the dining-room beneath. They proceeded
down the swaying stairs to meet another shock at
the foot, and some policemen coming into the hall
to inquire if any one had been killed, and if they
could be of service.

This was the end of the earthquake! Just a
few throes of old Mother Earth, and the blocks
of brick and slabs of wood, which her chil-
dren had set up, were toppled over. Thousands
of dollars' worth of propert}^ destroyed in a mo-
ment ! I/ives endangered, more shocks a proba-
bility ! A terrible catastrophe, yet it did not break
up that women's meeting ! Twenty -five women,
fully one-half the number expected, came to hear
Aunt Mary ; and in spite of the earthquake,
though, perhaps, more because of it, the meeting
was pronounced a great success.

Neither did the earthquake break up a second
reception, which had been planned for the follow-
ing day. This time the guests were all missiona-
ries, about sixty in number, representing many
different boards.

CHAPTER IV.

:&

t!

O

Most of the temples of Japan are disappoint-
ing. They are found, it is true, on every high hill
and under every green tree ; but the high hills and
the green trees are in lonely, isolated spots; some
of the temples are memorial shrines, closed except
on great anniversary occasions ; while others that
may be open always are only occasionally visited
by worshipers'.

The real worship of Japan is largely before the
ancestral shrine in the home and the Imperial pic-
ture in the school. So it has come to pass that
temples are often used for tea-houses, and that
any foreigner who pleases can have his photograph
taken, sitting on the thumb of Dai-Biitsii himself.

Incongruous as it seems, a temple convenient
to the people, and located in a pretty spot, is
often rented for a Christian social ; and the songs
of praise and words of prayer, which always rise
to Jehovah on these occasions, bring not so much
as one frown to the faces of ever-smiling Buddhas.

63

64 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

But there is one temple in Japan which satisfies
the preconceived notion of what a temple should
be — the Asakusa Temple in Tokyo. Situated in
the heart of the great city, it is easy of access to all
classes of people ; and, as it contains a great variety
of gods, each worshiper is pretty sure to find the ob-
ject of his prayers. The long road leading to the
temple is lined with shops and booths, presenting
a gala appearance, more like a great fair than the
entrance to a house of worship. Within the tem-
ple inclosure, and even in the temple itself, pigeons
are flying about, to be fed by these worshipers, as
other pigeons are fed by Mohammedans in the Pig-
eon Mosque at Constantinople, and by Christians in
St. Mark's Square at Venice. The most interesting
idols are the travelers' god in the gate, who receives
offerings of sandals from those about to start on a
journey, and, in the temple, the god of matrimony
and the famous pain-god. This latter is always
surrounded, and pitiful indeed it is to see the real
faith with which its smooth, shining surface is
rubbed and re-rubbed to relieve the pain of diseased
members. But, after all, it is no more superstitious
than carrjdng a horse-chestnut in one's pocket to
relieve rheumatism ; for they can tell of people who
rubbed the pain-god and got well, and what other
reason can be given for wearing the horse-chestnut ?
Of the steady stream of worshipers flowing so
constantly in and out of the temple, there are more
women than men ; and they seem more earnest in
their devotions, often weeping in the intensity of

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 65

desire, and continuing at length the " vain repeti-
tion," for which they think they will be heard;
while the" men seem satisfied oftentimes with a
hasty obeisance only. Before each idol is a money-
chest, for no one would think of proffering a request
without first making an offering. As with men, so
with gods is the thought ; each must be bribed to
do a favor.

Aunt Mary's jinrikisha runners could not take
her too quickly from this, the first heathen temple
she had ever visited. How glad she was when they
drew her to the building known as the Central Tab-
ernacle, and she could see the place where a Chris-
tian worker had tried to cast his net on the right
side of the ship, and was earnestly endeavoring to
draw in the masses !

After a busy week of Commencement exercises
in boarding-schools at Tokyo and Yokahama, there
came a quiet Sabbath, closing with the postponed
baptismal service by the bishop; and then Con-
ference. This was the Annual Conference of the
Methodist Church in Japan, including an auxiliary
organization known as the Woman's Conference.

The days had become warm and sultry. The
high ceilings and large rooms, that had seemed so
grand and spacious, were none too high and large
now. Mosquito curtains were carefully drawn
about the bed at night ; but there was no screen for
the day, and neither curtain nor screen could pro-
tect from the ubiquitous and attentive flea.

^Tiie Mission Compound at Aoyama, where the

5

66 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Conference was to assemble, was a scene of confu-
sion. Buildings racked by the earthquake had been
condemned and were awaiting repairs ; chimneys
had fallen, rendering other buildings ineffective;
men were at work erecting a temporary tabernacle
to serve as an assembly hall.

Resident missionaries were going about attend-
ing to the entire readjustment of their plans with
the calm, quiet manner which is the rightful, though
often unclaimed, inheritance of those who " count
not their lives dear unto themselves." In the gen-
eral change, it came about that the Woman's Con-
ference was held in the Harrison Industrial Home,
which was new and so well built that it had been
comparatively uninjured by the earthquake. This
was one of the many buildings that Aunt Mary had
seen by faith from afar. How well she remembered
the earnest appeals, sent home by a dear, loved
missionary, for money to found that institution !
Even when that missionary lay ill, and some
thought dying, she wrote : " I am willing to die ;
but it seems to me that a shadow will follow me
into the better land if I do not live to see an indus-
trial school in Tokyo." But there was no shadow
to follow her now ! A bequest of five thousand
dollars had made this building possible. A mis-
sionary had been inspired to undertake the work,
and already applicants for admissipn had to be
turned away.

It was vacation time, though a number belong-
ing to the school had been detained by the illness

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 67

of one of the pupils, Chicka Hasegawa. One very
warm night, O Chika San had become heated and
thrown off her heavy fiUon (wadded quilt). Falling
asleep, she did not notice that a draft was creep-
ing over the tatami and about the fiiton on which
she was lying. She awoke with a cold, and was
now gasping away her life in a severe attack of
pneumonia.

Just below, the Woman's Conference was assem-
bling. Aunt Mary was made president, and per-
formed the duties of her office with promptness
and dispatch. At best, it was a wearing, wearying
session. The dying lay near ; one of the members
had been injured at an open-air meeting, and was
in the hospital undergoing an operation on her
right eye ; the earthquake had done so much dam-
age that thousands of dollars would be needed for
repairs. But through it all, for an hour every after-
noon there hung on one door in the school a card
marked " Resting." Aunt Mary was taking her
afternoon nap. Once overwork compelled her to
enter a sanitarium ; and ever since her gradua-
tion she had faithfully maintained a post-graduate
course. This course consisted of a morning bath,
followed by calisthenics ; no tea or coffee, but only
hot water ; a long walk and an hour's rest during
the day ; and eight hours of sleep at night in a
room well aired and ventilated. Methodical and
exact in all these particulars, the " sleep account "
was kept with special precision ; and those who
inquired at the breakfast-table how she slept the

68 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

night before were pretty sure to get a reply like
this : " First-rate ! I 'm half an hour ahead now ;"
or "I 'm just even ;" though sometimes a very poor
night or some exigency of travel would compel
her to answer, " I 'm an hour behind," or *' I 've
two hours to make up."

After Conference, through the intense heat of
July and August, every seyojin who can, slips away
to the mountains or the seashore for a little rest.
This year, many of the missionaries were detained,
hoping to put their buildings in repair before the
opening of school in September. Some took the
risk of remaining in houses pronounced unsafe,
until plans for rebuilding could be properly pre-
pared by the overworked foreign architect. One
missionary, however, was sufficiently disengaged
to accompany Aunt Mary to Nikko.

It is quite as unromantic to go to Nikko by rail
as to stand in Athens and see a railway train whiz-
zing past the Arch of Hadrian. One can, of course,
leave the train at Utsunomiya and take the old
jinrikisha road into Nikko. But expedition, not
enjoyment, is the watchword of the American trav-
eler ; and so she foregoes the quiet, solitary coach,
with its quaint gentle steed, in favor of the crowded
car and the shrieking engine; denies herself an
afternoon alone with the trees and their dancing
sunbeams and shadows, to be hurried, as over the
plains of a desert, almost to the Imperial shrines
themselves. Once in a while she catches a glimpse
of the stately avenue she might have traversed,

JOURNEYING S NORTHWARD. 69

and wonders if, after all, the longest way round
were not the best way there. But it is too late
now, and she has to content herself with the short
ride from the station to her hotel.

The artistic Japanese, whose fondness for Fuji-
yama leads him to paint her graceful cone on his
fusuma (sliding doors), give it the chief place in
the ornamentation of his teacup and even of his
teakettle, dearly loves Nikko. For Nikko is, as
travelers often observe, the embodiment of two
glories; one glory of the mountains, the trees, the
waterfalls, and another glory of the temples, the
shrines, the gateways, the bridges. But as it is
only the painted image of Fuji whose beauty is
never clouded, it is the Nikko of the imagination
alone that is always kekkd^ (beautiful). Often the
mountains are concealed by mists, the roads are
too muddy to travel, and the temple courts seem
decorated only with mold and decay.

Aunt Mary remained too short a time to subject
Nikko to many tests, visiting only the most access-
ible places. She failed to count the long row of
stone gods which, it is said, no two people have
ever counted alike; did not double herself into a
kago (basket suspended from a pole) to be carried
on the shoulders of two or three men over the
mountains to lyake Chusenji ; did not even stop
long before the marvelous Red Bridge, used only

■'•Referring to the proverb, that no one can see " kekko"
until he has first seen Nikko.

70 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

by the Tenshisaina (Son of Heaven, the emperor's
title), but after a week hastened on to Sendai.

Hakodate was her objective point; but the
passport, which she carried, permitted her to break
her journey at several places en route. It was six
o'clock Saturday evening, when she and her mis-
sionary friend alighted from the train at Sendai.
Before they could pass the gates, or receive the
greetings of the lady who had come through to
meet them, a trim little policeman had stepped up,
put forth his hand, and called out, '^ Me7ijor He
was dressed in his summer uniform of white, with
a white scarf hanging from his cap to protect him
from the sun, and looked cool and comfortable.
But they had just got off from the train after a hot
summer day's journey, and were warm, dusty, and
tired. They had not expected to show their pass-
ports here, so had stowed them away in their hand-
bags. Aunt Mary, with her usual method, could
put her hand upon hers at once. It was produced,
examined, and she went on with Mrs. S. to her
jinrikisha. But Miss R. did not come. Mrs. S.
went back for her and neither of them came. A
great crowd gathered around the jinrikisha. They
gazed at Aunt Mary's face, at her bonnet, at her
gloves, at her hand-bag. They talked about her,
gesticulating with their hands. How uncomfort-
able she was ! What could be the cause of the de-
lay? At last the delinquents appeared, with the
policeman and a Japanese youth in ordinary dress.
The latter was a friend, who had promised to go

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 7 1

to the keisatsiijo (police station) in Miss R.'s behalf.
Her passport was wrong. It allowed her to go to
Hakodate all right, but not to stop at Sendai ; so
she must go on the next train, leaving at two
o'clock in the morning.

But the Japanese friend interceded so well that
at eleven an official appeared at Mrs. S.'s home, to
state that Miss R. could remain.

This caused the tired travelers to send up a
note of thanksgiving and hasten to bed. Scarcely
was the house quiet when another messenger came
to say that, after all, unless Miss R. was sick, they
would be obliged to send her on; but if she could
produce a medical certificate, stating that she was
not able to travel, then they could let her stay.
By this time Miss R. did feel really ill; so a doctor
was called, and two certificates were made out, one
for the chief of police, and another for some one
else, perhaps the mayor of the city or the gov-
ernor of the ken. When this was done, still Miss
R. could not rest; for letters of thanks must be
sent to these magnates for their honorable conde-
scension in permitting her to break her journey
contrary to the provisions of her passport.

It was now four o'clock in the morning. The
mosquitoes were inside the nets; and as soon as
the morning sun had put them to shame it was too
hot to sleep. And so it happened that, to the for-
malities of Japanese passport regulations, must be
charged an enormous debit on Aunt Mary's "sleep-
account."

72 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Hakodate combines the triple attractions of the
city, the mountain, and the sea. To be sure, the
city has no marble mansions, no hotels with guests
in the fourteenth story, no great stores with de-
partments for every variety of goods, from hats to
boots." There is never a railway-train whizzing in
and out; never a cable-car, to take one swiftly up
and down the steep hills ; never a restaurant, where
one may indulge in a dish of ice-cream; never a
soda-fountain. The night is not made like the day,
by luminous rows of electric lights. There are no
vSteam-launches and beautiful yachts plying up and
down the harbor; there are no fine pavilions and
bathing-houses on the beach; no rest-houses or
pretty summer hotels on the mountain; none of
the common appointments of the city or of the
summer resort.

Yet it is a city — a busy, prosperous city — where
thousands of most enterprising Japanese, emigrants
from the main island, live and work, plan and exe-
cute, until it is said of them, as of their forefathers,
"Shinde shimaimashita " (dying, finished).

In their enterprise they have taken advantage
of convenient mountain springs to plant public
waterworks on the hillside, and they have pro-
tected their houses from the cold, to some extent,
by making the windows and doors in foreign style.
They have Koyenchi (public gardens), containing
a museum; several monumental slabs of unhewn,
unpolished stone; and a "Point Lookout," com-
manding a fine view of the harbor.

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 'J2>

At a proper distance from the city is a solitary
brick chimney for the dead, a crematory, fairly-well
patronized. So much for modern improvements.

As a seaside resort it affords a great variety of
bathing; for at one side of the narrow neck of land
which makes Hakodate Head a part of Yezo there
is almost always a high surf, and the other side,
across the harbor, is a broad, gently-sloping beach,
covered by water as still as any lake; then, around
by the rocks where the mountain droops to meet
the sea, are natural swimming-pools of any desired
depth.

The mountain is well wooded, containing many
ferns and a variety of wild flowers; is only eleven
hundred feet above the level of the sea at its high-
est point — so presents few difficulties of climbing —
and is located in such a way as to give charming
views of land and sea and sky.

A home on this mountain, in this city by the
sea, had been chosen as the best place for Aunt
Mary to avoid the heat and recuperate for the hard
trip to Korea, which was to come next on the
bishop's itinerary.

Rumors of war were in the air. Serious com-
plications in Korean affairs had already led, it was
reported, to hostilities between Japanese and Chi-
nese soldiers.

One of the missionaries, resting with Aunt
Mary in Hakodate, was the recipient of a Tokyo
daily, published in English. It had to come the
long railway journey from Tokyo to Aomori, con-

74 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

suming the better part of two days and a night;
then another night across the straits, reaching
Hakodate in the morning, usually within three
days of publication.

After breakfast and prayers, it grew to be the
custom for every one to tarry in the sitting-room
for the reading of the paper, especially the part
giving the latest war developments. At last they
read that which they had feared — a formal declara-
tion of war on the part of the Japanese emperor.
It was manly and forceful, not once stooping to
undignified accusation, but apparently actuated
only by a sense of justice and earnest desire to
vindicate the truth. While they trembled at the
temerity of this call to arms with China — great,
old, hoary-headed China — they admired the spirit,
and thought it hardly worthy of defeat.

A few days later another proclamation appeared.

"This can't be the real one. Somebody is
making fun, and imagining what the Chinese em-
peror will say. Just hear: 'As Japan has violated
the treaties and not observed international laws,
and is now running rampant with her false and
treacherous actions, commencing hostilities herself,
and laying herself open to condemnation by the
various Powers at large, we therefore desire to make
it known to the world that we have always followed
the paths of philanthropy and perfect justice
throughout the whole complications; while the
WoJe?i (an ancient name for Japanese, expressive
of contempt), on the other hand, have broken all

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 75

the laws of nations and treaties, which it passes
our patience to bear with. Hence we command
lyi Hung-Chang to give strict orders to our various
armies to hasten with all speed to root the Wojen
out of their lairs. He is to send successive armies
of valiant men to Korea, in order to save the Ko-
reans from the dust of bondage. We also com-
mand the Manchu generals, viceroys, and governors
of the Maritime Provinces, as well as the command-
ers-in-chief of the various armies, to prepare for
war, and to make every effort to fire on the Wojen
ships, if they come into our ports, and utterly de-
stroy them. We exhort our generals to refrain
from the least laxity in obeying our commands, in
order to avoid severe punishment at our hands.
Let all know this edict as if addressed to them-
selves individually. Respect this !' That is only
the last of it, but the first is just about as bad,"
continued the unappreciative reader.

All agreed with her that there must be some
mistake — that such a puerile, undignified docu-
ment could not have emanated from the throne of
a mighty empire, representing a great though an-
cient civilization.

But it proved to be a genuine translation of the
original proclamation, and was enough, per se, to
fill its readers with intense sympathy for the
IVojen.

Day by day they waited, with increasing eager-
ness, for the little three-days-old newspaper. But
sometimes, though they waited long hours in the

76 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

sitting-room, no neatly-uniformed postman ap-
peared at the door, and sometimes he bore other
mail — no paper. Then, again, there would be two
or three papers, from which they gathered a mea-
ger account of a battle on land — hundreds of Chi-
nese "killed, only a few Japanese wounded — or of a
naval encounter, which left several of the enemy's
ships foundered, the Japanese fleet unimpaired.
They wondered whether to accept much, little, or
none at all of these accounts, and longed to read,
with friends across the sea, the telegraphic news in
the New York Tribune or the London Times, and
know surely what was transpiring in the little
peninsula so near them.

"Is it safe for Aunt Mary to go on to Korea
during these troublous times?" w^as a question
often debated, but as often left unanswered.

The Japanese everywhere were bracing them-
selves as for a long, hard struggle. Even the
Yaso-Shinja (Christian believers), who had been
regarded with disapproval for supposed lack of
patriotism, were not a whit behind Buddhists and
Shintoists in offering large contributions to the
War Fund. Church-doors flew open, and people
were invited to concerts for the benefit of the Red
Cross Society.

Preachers belonging to the reserve corps of the
arm}^ did not go to interior appointments, but, ac-
cording to military orders, remained in port, ready
to respond to a probable call for more soldiers.

The only Christians who did not rise on the

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 77

High tide of popular favor at this time were the
Quakers. Conscientiously opposed to war, their
ranks suffered terrible depletion; for how could a
Japanese remain a Quaker when his country's
honor was at stake! Kvery where he went, even
to the small hours of the morning, he heard ikusa
710 hanashi (talk about the war). His intensely
patriotic mind was inflamed with excitement, and
he felt — with every other Japanese man, woman,
and child — that the greatest glory of living lay in
the possible privilege of dying for his country.

The national and religious festivities in which
all were accustomed to engage with such pleasure,
were suspended ; for how could one rejoice at such
a time as this? Besides, they needed the money
for the war.

With the exception, however, of a few surface
ripples, the intensity of patriotic feeling was con-
cealed from the seyojin by the usual decorum and
quiet humility prescribed by every rule of Japa-
nese etiquette. The Japanese, even more than the
seyojin, were without reliable news of the war;
but, ever confident of the continued and ultimate
success of their country's arms, they felt it to be
quite unnecessary and wholly beneath their dignity
to indulge in boastful prediction. One, however,
in a burst of confidence, exclaimed, " We would
every one of us die before we would give up our
country to China."

In the Mission Home, with the old question,
'* Ought Aunt Mary to go to Korea?" other ques-

78 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

tions arose: "How is the war going to affect our
work?" " Shall we be able to open our schools at
the usual time?" "Will the girls come?"

But all had to be "laid on the table" as prob-
lems that could not yet be solved, and every one
devoted her time and thought to rest and recrea-
tion. Directly after the noonday meal each day,
there was a Bible-reading, conducted by Aunt
Mary; then a nap, followed by a walk. In the
evening there was music, and very often exercises
with bean-bags, " to develop the muscular," as
Aunt Mary called it. She proved herself a cham-
pion at these exercises, and soon became the pop-
ular captain, for her side always won.

One afternoon the w^alk was made to include a
mountain-climb, with supper on the peak. The
sun had sunk low enough behind the mountain to
throw most of the paths in shadow. There w^ere
little climbs, then restful walks on a level ; dainty
ferns and beautiful flowers were continually at-
tracting some of the party from the path, and they
found it difficult to heed the injunction, " Better
take those on the way back!" In the deep, deep
shade of tall, lonely trees, disturbed only by the
hoarse cawing of carasu (crows, which are very
numerous in Hakodate, and, in fact, all over Japan),
as many as could, found a resting-place on a box
which covered one of the feeders of the water-
works below. On, after a little, up the mountain
side, until the ridge was reached, and the sea ap-
peared in little pieces here and there! "From one

JOURNEYINGS NORTHWARD. 79

point on the ridge you can see the water in seven
different places," was the information volunteered
by an old resident.

But, however charming the bits of views on the
way up the mountain, one feels sure that it is more
charming at the top, and hastens on. The steepest
part came just before they reached the summit, and
here one of the party gave out. It was not Aunt
Mary, however. Her sixty-eight years seemed to
be a spur, not a drag, to her feet; and she was
among the first to shout down to the exhausted
missionary what a beautiful view vShe was missing.
Beautiful, indeed ! Below — it seemed directly under
them — was the school and the home they had just
left. These buildings were partly hidden by trees ;
but the French school in front came out in bold
relief A little to the south were the Greek church
and the French cathedral; near them, the costly
new temple, not yet finished ; and, in the 7nachi
(town) below, the largest temple of the city. They
could look into the clear water of the public reser-
voirs, which seemed almost near enough to reflect
their faces ; and down upon the lyookout tower in
the public gardens. The roofs of the houses pre-
sented a curious appearance ; not tiled, nor thatched,
but shingled, with even rows of stones laid on to
keep the shingles down. There was so little room
at the base of the mountain that they were crowded
close together, and even stretched across the low
isthmus, where they appeared in imminent danger
of ingulfment in a tidal wave.

8o IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

The little fishing villages of Shirasawabe and
Yamasetamari brought to mention the senior Circle
of King's Daughters that had grown up in the
school. For years they had divided, and gone
faithfully once a week, though often through deep
mud and fierce storms, to these villages to teach
what they knew of Jesus ; never once hindered, in
their loving service, by the insulting words, showers
of stones, and barking dogs, which sometimes were
their only reward.

But the beauty of the view did not lie in a per-
fect chart of the city and its outlying villages.
There was the calm, quiet, deep-blue harbor, so still
that every boat and every sail seemed fixed and
motionless ; beyond, the sharp, jutting peak of a vol-
cano rose in clear, well-defined outline against the
summer sky ; across the isthmus, the bright blue sea
was shining and dancing in the beautiful, curved
beach it had made for itself between the mountains.
The view down the opposite decline of the peak
was almost as lovely ; in every direction, charming
blue sea and glorious green mountain ; here a bit
of sea, there a dash of mountain ; now drawing near
in loving embrace, then retiring in blushing timid-
ity. But the sun was sinking rapidly, and the
mists were rising, enveloping both mountain and
sea in billows of purest white and softest down ; so
they hastened to descend, filled with blessed
thoughts of Him who " setteth fast the mountains
by his strength," and " measureth the waters in
the hollow of his hand."

YCZO

CHAPTER V.

Thk favorite summer re-
sort of the Japanese is not
the seaside nor the moun-
tain, but the hot springs.
The volcanic, oft-quaking
islands of Japan abound in
springs of hot water, which
make natural baths for the
people, and have so accustomed them to the use of
hot water that they would not only shiver at
thought of an Indian shower-bath or an English
cold-water plunge — they would consider them
wholly lacking in proper, cleansing qualities. Even
the lukewarm bath of an American sanitarium
would not satisfy, but the water must be heated
seven times hotter than it is wont to be heated
in any other country. At the almost boiling
temperature to which nature delights in heating
many of her baths in Japan, her people are satis-
fied, and feel sufficiently cleansed, heated, lux-
uriated; for in the winter-time they frequent the
public baths of the city quite as much to get warm
as to become clean; and in the summer they go to
the hot springs of the country to luxuriate. Tea-
houses and hotels in these favored spots are often
crowded with guests, who leave off lounging in the
bath, only to lounge in their rooms awhile, and then
return to the bath. The baths often have high

6 8i

82 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

medicinal qualities, holding sulphur and other min-
erals in solution. Such are the baths at Yuno-
kawa, only five miles distant from Hakodate. One
or two of the hotels at Yunokawa have conformed
to the requirements of modern civilization by the
erection of a private bath-room for the convenience
of seyojin, who so strongly object to entering the
public bath, used in common by both sexes.

One afternoon, in place of the customary walk,
Aunt Mary and her missionary friends took a drive
to Yunokawa. Jinrikishas were slow and rather
expensive ; so they engaged a basha. A basha is
a short omnibus, whose top and side curtains of
canvas make it look not unlike an emigrant wagon.
It is supposed to be planned for six people ; but
eight, or even ten, persons are often seen sitting,
crow^ded and uncomfortable enough, on its narrow
seats, with their stiff, hard cushions. It is drawn
by horses, who are groomed as poorly as they are
fed, and whose harness, once of leather, has been
mended with pieces of rope so many times that the
original has almost disappeared. The roads are
as poor as the bashas. Torn up by the snows of
the winter and the rains of the spring, they are
full of ugly holes, into which the basha descends
with a thud, coming up again with a jerk, which
gives the unwary passenger smart raps on head,
hands, and feet, and causes the inexperienced basha
traveler to go through all possible vStages of nervous
apprehension and fright ; for sometimes the basha
goes down, and does not come up again until every

FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI, 83

passenger is lifted out of the end, and the poor
horses are whipped, and pushed, and whipped again,
in the endeavor to get them to pull even the
empty wagon out of the hole. Then, again, the
basha enters a great sea of mud, and its move-
ments become uncertain, like those of a ship in a
storm. It tips, it sways, it goes over! No one
is drowned ; but —

The unevenness of the road is very hard on the
basha; and sometimes the pole, or a whiffletree,
snaps in two, making another break in the journey.
Then Japanese ingenuity is brought into play to
rearrange the rope-harness, so that the horses may
be driven tandem.

None of these accidents happened on the way to
Yunokawa, though one missionary, for fear, walked
a part of the way. There was much jolting ; but
Aunt Mary endured this patiently, making up, in
the spring and activity of her own vigorous na-
ture, for the springless condition of the carriage.

The hotel with the private bath-room had been
chosen for a resting-place. Pretty housemaids came
to the door with an "Irrashai!" (word of greet-
ing), andji row of heelless slippers for the seyojhi to
put on after their shoes were removed. Camp-
chairs were brought to their cool, airy room, which
had one whole side open to the breeze; and they
were asked if they would have coffee. This meant
a drmk prepared from a curious compound called
coffee-sugar, which is loaf-sugar mixed with what
is supposed to be coffee, and prepared by simply

84 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

pouring on hot water. Served in a large cup and
saucer, with a pewter spoon, it is considered a special
mark of respect to the foreign guest. But all seemed
to prefer the well-prepared native drink of clear,
straw-colored tea. While some were refreshing
themselves with the tea and small cakes resem-
bling English biscuits, others were enjoying a
plunge in a hot sulphur bath. As they did so,
they thought with pity of the poor little paralytic
lady, who had come to Japan as an independent
missionary, and had spent whole seasons in this
hotel in Yunokawa, finding in the daily bath her
one respite from pain.

But far better to Aunt Mary than mountain or
sea or hot springs, were the calls from Japanese
Christians, the opportunities to preach the new
testimonies that she so often heard of the ever-
prevailing power of Christ in the salvation of souls.
How glad she was to meet a Christian soldier at
the little Japanese parsonage the day when the out-
going pastor asked her to tell him the best way to
make a prayer-meeting profitable ! What a brave
young fellow he was ! Disinherited for his religion,
he did not flinch ; and was loyal to Christian princi-
ples, even through his three years of military
service ! Her motherly interest led him to tell her
how severely he was tested in the army. There
were only a few staunch young Christians in his
company, eleven all together, and the stronger
were in the habit of watching the weak, and try-
ing in every way to guard them from temptation.

FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKL 85

One day he found a weaker brother surrounded by
twenty young soldiers, all the worse for wine ; and
sought to draw him away. At that they were an-
gered, and surrounded him, determined to make
him drink with them. When the young soldier
came to this part of his story, he threw back his
head and shoulders, and said, " I told them, ' There
are twenty of you and you can kill me if you like ;
but you can not make me drink wine.' "

When the new pastor came in, she went to the
little parsonage again to attend his reception.
What a funny little parsonage it was ! Built behind
the church, up against a great rock, where a few
vines only had to answer for a garden, it gave little
space for the preacher's thoughts to wander when
engaged in writing his sermon. A chair was pro-
duced for Aunt Mary ; but the rest sat with their
feet under them, on the tatanii. The two rooms
where the reception was held were such simple
rooms ! No drapery, no bric-a-brac, no furniture
even ! A few books and a graceful bouquet of
flowers occupied the tokonoma (alcove usually found
in a Japanese room) ; other than that, only the
neatly made tatami, the thin, paper shoji (sliding
doors for the admission of light), and the painted
fusuma. Among the guests at this reception was
a bright young preacher, distinguished as the first
missionary to the Kurile Islands. He had volun-
tarily resigned his charge, and gone out alone to
these cold islands of the North, where he received
such a mere pittance from the Japanese Home Mis-

86 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

sionary Society that he was obliged to support
himself largely by his own efforts. He was now
going back rich in the unusual possession of a bride
of his own choice. No scheming parents or fussy
nakadachi (go between) had come between them
and lifelong happiness. She was a Bible woman,
well fitted, by four years of training and two of
practice, for the new and trying life before her. It
was a great pleasure to Aunt Mary to see this
young couple started off from the mission-house,
well laden with pictures and books to help them in
their work. One of those with her, more accus-
tomed to Japanese ways of thinking and doing,
proposed to send the packages by a servant to the
preacher's lodging-place ; but Aunt Mary, with
American spirit, responded, "Why, that isn't nec-
essary! He can carry them himself." And the
missionaries were pleased to see him, without hes-
itation, shoulder and bear away the packages, evi-
dently esteeming manliness more than manners.

Aunt Mary was ever the busiest and happiest
member of the household. Her ready humor,
though directed quite unexpectedly at times in re-
proof of the tardy member or the willful one, caused
the table conversation to sparkle with laughter, and
every meal became a " feast of reason and a flow of
soul." It was pleasing to note the effect on each
jaded, worn missionary, who, in journeying north or
south, called between steamers, and was persuaded
to stop in the dining-room of this hospitable home.
At first a light would come to his eyes at her moth-

FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI. S7

erly greeting; then a smile at some bright saying ;
at last, a hearty laugh, and he would go away
cheered by the brightness and rested by the smiles
and laughter, thanking God for sending this mis-
sionary to the missionaries.

Her conversation did not always provoke
laughter ; but tears came to every one's eyes, most
of all to her own, as she told of an early struggle
in discipline with one of her boys. He refused to
obey ; she insisted that he should. He continued
to rebel; she remained firm. At last, unable to en-
dure the pressure, he ran away from home. The
father was inclined to yield, and begged her to for-
give the erring boy and call him back. The mother,
equally anxious, wept and prayed, and watched and
waited for him to return, but refused to pardon
him in his disobedience. When, in the course' of
the narrative, the wanderer did return, repenting
of his obstinacy and willing to obey, smiles broke
through the tears of all at the table, and a little of
heaven's joy over "one sinner that repenteth "
came into their hearts. *' On his wedding-day,"
she added, " he came to me and said, ' I am so glad
you made me mind;' and to-day he disciplines his
boy just as I did mine."

The war-cloud continued to hang dark and
heavy over the Korean horizon ; and one of the
questions, so long " laid on the table," was taken
up and settled. Aunt Mary ought not to accom-
pany the bishop to Korea, but, while waiting for
an opportunity to go to China, could improve her

^>8 JN /Of/UNhy/NrJS 0/'7\

lime by mora ymrncyuVf^s in Japan, An invitation
to IJirosaki, presscrd niK>n licr attention since her
first landing in Yokohama, was now accepted. It
was not an easy matter to be the first to break the
pleasant circle in Ifakorlixte; and Aunt Mary hesi-
tated to name the day when she would be ready to
start off with one little missionary, in place of the
six with whom she had shared her walks, her letters,
her studies, and her calls, for one lon^, busy, happy
month.

The night first set proved to be stormy, and, of
course, it was not wise to cross the Straits in a
storm. Thf: n^-xl night, after their tickets were
ordered, the wind seemed to rise agaifi, and the
order was recalled. The following day the mis-
sionary unexpectedly succeederl in purchasing a
horse, which she had been coveting, and they must
wait anoth'-r day 1o Ij-iv. Ili;il proj^erly shipped,
liut at last there came a night when they had no
excuse for d^liy. Tli'-re was no moon, but the
sky was clear and the stars were shining; the sea
was calm ; the horse was safely swinging in its
wooden hammock on board the steamer; their
trunks had been rop^d on \]\<- backs of coolies and
carried down to a hotel on llie hatoha Twliarf; ; the
house " boy " (\\\ reality an old manj was strapping
their hand bags over his shoulders, and now, with
a lighted lantern in his hand, was ready to lead the
way. Oood-byes were said to some, while others
accompanied them down tlie steep hills, They<li(i
not talk niuf h, for two angels of quietness were

J'h'OAl J/.lhODAI /C '/<) IIIROSAKF. 89

broodiiij^ over tliciii I he- aii^cl of farewell, and
the aii>(el of tlu- ni^lit. At lliis tinic-, usually,
llicy were exaiiiinin^ the ni()S(|uiU) curtains arcMind
their l)eds, and ])rci)arin)^^ for a safe, restful ni^lit
in the home. Hut to nij^ht they were to eonnnit
themselves to a new and unsteady bed on the
great deep, and in the moiuin^^ would awake on
the other shore.

They entered what was literally the ground-
jloor q{ W\Ki hotel; identified their ha^j^a^e, which
they found marked with paper tags indicatinj^ the
hotel to which they were recommended in Aomori;
paid for lluir tickets, and for the sampan which
was to carry them lo the steamer; the hotel j)eo-
ple had courteously placed two chairs in the sam-
pan for their use; the ** boy " stepped in with
them ; their IViends waved their good-byes from
the shore, and they were off — off in their ([Ueer
boat, whose oars seemed so strangely dislocated,
one of tlieiii |)ropelling the boat from the stern. It
was very still ; and, with the calm, such a soft, gen-
tle darkness hovered over everything ! The lights,
gleaming here and there from the shipping, seemed
to say : " We know it is time to be dark and quiet.
We are only shining for a little while to kee]) the
stars company." The lights of the city were more
nunuTous, and looked brighter against the black-
ness of the mountain looming a])ove them ; but
they, too, prophesied speedy extinction. It was
oniy the ChishiniiDtmru that bore a day-time a]>
pearaiice of brightness and activity. With freight

go IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

all loaded, she had but to take on her passengers,
and steam away at midnight.

The next morning early, she came to anchor in
Aomori Bay, and was speedily surrounded by sam-
pans, big and little. Shioiya's clerk, desiring to
show" special respect to the foreign guests, had en-
gaged two boats — one for them, and the other for
their baggage. They were not to be entertained at
the hotel, they told him, but at " Suthon San no
Uchi." He knew this well, as did every one in
Aomori ; for it was the home, church, and school of
a missionary heroine, the one lone seyojin cheer-
fully braving a residence, winter and summer, in
what all there knew must be uncongenial surround-
ings. They arrived before the telegram, which
they had sent from the hotel in Hakodate the night
before ; so she was not expecting them. This de-
layed the breakfast, and made another delay in
ordering jinrikishas ; for Aunt Mary must escape,
if possible, the usual hard basha ride of thirty miles
over a road which, for two years, had been in the
trying state of being macadamized. There was the
horse to be intrusted to some one's leading, their
baggage to be looked after, and a graduate of the
mission-school in Hakodate, sent in their care to
the Hirosaki school, must be started in the basha.
After all these things were done, and another tele-
gram ventured upon for Hirosaki, the jinrikishas
were still nowhere in sight. Then the little mis-
sionary rushed madly about from one jinrikisha
stand to another, until her calm hostess, who had

FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI. 9 1

engaged them at the depot, where most of the jin-
rikishas had gone at that hour, found her on a cor-
ner, breathless and excited over her fruitless search.
This same hostess, with true Japanese courtesy,
had engaged a jinrikisha for herself, and accom-
panied them a good bit of the way over the smooth,
level stretch of road out from Aomori. Reluctantly
they received her sayonaras (good-byes), and pro-
ceeded on their quiet, solitary journey. Up to this
time the jinrikisha runners had endeavored to keep
abreast, but now they dropped back in line. There
were two men to each kuruma (jinrikisha). Over
good parts of the road, one was ahead to help, by
means of a rope, in pulling ; but often he had to
go behind to push the wheels up a steep place, or
lift them over a ditch.

The tea-houses and little villages they passed
looked very different from anything Aunt Mary had
seen before. The roofs were thatched with rice-
straw, and the walls were made of a kind of thick-
ened mud or plaster. About noon the jinrikishas
halted before one of these mud-walled, thatched-
roofed tea-houses. At once a crowd of dirty, naked
children and a few men and women, as curious and
scarcely cleaner or more clothed than the children,
gathered around the new, white-haired seyojin.
The tea-house had no upper story, and only one
zashiki (parlor or guest-room). The crowd fol-
lowed them into the yard, and stood gazing, as they
removed their shoes and entered the zashika. It
was very warm ; but they must screen themselves

92 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

from this curious, gaping company. The shoji
were torn and out of order ; so fusuma had to be
borrowed from the rest of the house before they
were successful in making the sheltered corner
they desired for themselves. Tea was brought, and
with thankful hearts they ate the good lunch that
had been put up for them at Hakodate. Then, leav-
ing a small chadai on the tray in payment for the
tea and their room, the little missionary called,
" Kurumaya San, mo yo gozaimasu !" (Mr. Jin-
rikishamen, we are all ready.) Once more they
faced the unkempt crowd, and started on. During
the afternoon, growing weary of the long ride,
Aunt Mary proposed a walk ; and several times, in
this way, they rested both themselves and the run-
ners. It may have been in one of these walks
that she quoted again to the little missionary a text
which was often upon her mind during these days
of strange experiences in Japan : " Partly whilst ye
were made a gazing-stock, and partly whilst ye
became companions of them that were so used."
And then she was reminded of Amanda Smith :
" Poor Amanda ! She was gazed at because she
was black ! And how hard it was for her, until a
friend, who found her in tears, repeated that verse,
and told her she was following in the footsteps of
the apostle Paul!"

They had now left the mountainous part of
the road, and were entering the beautiful valley
which contains the city of Hirosaki and outlying
villages. All through the day they had caught

STREET IN HIROSAKI.
Showing " house with an upstairs."

FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI. 95

glimpses now and then of the new railroad which
was to connect Hirosaki with Aomori. It is sel-
dom that the sight of iron rails gives the joy that
these glimpses brought to the little missionary's
heart. How many times she had been over this
road in jolting basha, in bumping sleigh, on stum-
bling pack-horse ! She knew all the ins and outs,
the lips and downs, the stones, the hollows, the
mud, the dust. Sometimes it had taken her two
days, never less than one, to make this little dis-
tance of thirty miles. Once, night and a heavy
shower overtook her long before she reached Ao-
mori. She was denied even the poor comfort of a
basha that time, and was riding in an open cart,
which jolted her so that she did not feel sound and
whole again for days. At midnight the cart drew
up in front of a closed hotel. The clerks, the por-
ters, the messenger-boys, all were sound asleep,
and for a long time refused to be aroused. When,
at last, they gave her shelter they kindly brought
to her little paper-walled room the customary shov-
elful of bright coals for the hibachi (fire-box or bra-
zier). Gratefully did she use these to dry her
pillow and sheets, which, though serving in the
cart as a cushion, were thoroughl}^ soaked at the
edges, and lay down to a sleep which even opening
amado (doors inclosing the verandas, and opened at
an early hour) did not greatly disturb.

Another time, after being thrown out in the
mud, she rode into Aomori in face of one of the
chilly, early snowstorms of winter, and was as-

96 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

signed by her courteous landlord to the largest,
most open, airy zashiki in his house. He had
thought to do her an honor, and looked surprised
enough when she asked to be moved to a smaller
room. He looked surprised again when, thinking
to get warm a la Japanese, she asked that a curtain
be put up at the unscreened doorway of the bath-
room, and she be allowed to have her bath first and
alone when it was made up fresh in the morning.

But the cold and fatigue of those journeys would
soon be only a memory. It would not be long
before the " iron horse " would carry her safely
and comfortably, in an hour's time, over this
weary way. Something else, however, was coming
into view. Yes, they had received her telegram ;
and there they were, a great company, standing on
Watoku bridge just outside the city, waiting to
welcome them within. Hastily alighting from their
jinrikishas, the better to return the low bows with
which they were greeted, they walked part of the
way through the long street with these Christian
women and girls, their pastor among them like any
true shepherd with his flock. They were passing
between the same two rows of dingy, black houses
which had often cast a shadow of depression over
the little missionary's heart, and made her wish
that Hirosaki was a little more like Tokyo, or even
Sendai. But the shadow was lifted now, and no
one in all Japan could be happier or more thankful.
" It will be heaven enough," she thought, " to be
met as we enter the other world by just such a com-

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FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI, 99

pany of the redeemed, who have washed and made
their robes white in the blood of the lyamb, because
we led them to the fountain."

But Aunt Mary had walked quite enough during
the day ; so she was persuaded to get in the jinrik-
isha again ; and with more bows they sped quickly
down Watoku, out on Tera Machi — where the little
wood-colored church stood between a hotel and a
newly-painted, white photograph gallery, by the
castle grounds — and into Shiwowaki Machi, where
they stopped. The high, black gate was open ; two
servants with smiling faces stood waiting. " Taiso
mate-orimashita " ("We have waited long for you"),
the}^ said. In the genka, Aunt Mary followed the
little missionary's example and exchanged shoes
for slippers. They entered the box-like rooms.
Shoji and fusuma were all pushed back, and they
could look at once into the little garden at the rear.
Fresh nasturtiums, grown from American seed,
filled home and garden with their bright beauty and
wholesome odor. " How sweet and fresh it is !"
Aunt Mary said, and speedily forgot, in the de-
lights of this little Japanese home, that it had been ^
so hard to leave Hakodate. She would have been
quite satisfied, after a hot supper in the little *' six-
mat " dining-room (just big enough for six of the
mats known as tahnai), to rest quietly in her '* ten-
mat " bedroom, opening at one end in a " four-
mat" dressing-room, and at the other on the garden;
but the little missionary would not have it so. "I
want you to see my upstairs,'" she urged; and, to

lOO IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

please her, Aunt Mary climbed the narrow, steep
stairway, her low stature making it easy for her to
escape a likely bump from the closet floor above.
She was now in a true Japanese room (the rooms
below had some glass sJioji and two foreign doors).
It had been an afterthought, having been built by
an ambitious Japanese owner on the roof-top of the
original house, which was a simple one-story house,
like all the others in the street. So it had come to
be known as the iiaikai ?io uchi (house with an up-
stairs).

The amado were open, and with the shoji
pushed back, a view could be obtained in every
direction. In the shadowy north were the castle
grounds of the old daimyo, whose stronghold was
now only in the hearts of the people, who had ever
been ready to serve him shinu fuade (unto death).
"We must go there some day," said the little mis-
sionary. "It is lovely, the most restful place in
Hirosaki."

All the missionaries who came to Hirosaki,
loved the O Shiro (castle or stronghold). Closed,
at that time to the general public, they were never
followed there by a host of small boys, shouting
after them, "Ame! Ame!" (abbreviation of
America.) As soon as they had passed the other
side of its queer old gateway, they were in a dif-
ferent world; away from the shouting rabble, away
from the perplexities and trials, from the cares and
responsibilities of their life and work in the in-
terior. Every step in the broad, grand avenues of

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FROM HAKODATE TO HIROSAKI, 103

pines, every moment by the calm, still waters of
the moat, was fraught with restfulness. They
loved to linger on its ruined bridges, to gaze on its
strong towers, with only rusty bolts and hinges to
show the effects of time and disuse. The over-
grov/n well, the neglected flower-garden, made
them curious to know more of former glories; so
they questioned the old people, who avoided the
O Skiro, literally passed not by it, because it spoke
to them too sadly of a past that would never come
again. One, and only one, description of the
daimyo's house was always ready. It was '^ taiso
hiroV (very broad or large).

While these thoughts were passing through the
little missionary's mind, Aunt Mary had turned to
the east. The horizon was pinked with moun-
tains, warm and soft in the afterglow of the day's
sunshine. To the south were more mountains
and more trees; terraced rows of stately crypt-
omerias, leading to the temple so often used for
sobetsukwai (farewell receptions) and the like. But
the crowning beauty was in the west ! There a
second Fuji rose from the waving rice-fields, to be
crowned, sometimes with clouds, but again with shin-
ing stars. The little missionary had often dropped
on her knees before the low window of her tiny
** two-mat" room, and thanked God for this moun-
tain, which had ever lifted her up and away from
her surroundings. It could not possibly mean as
much to Aunt Mary as it did to her ; and it could
not mean as much to her as it did to the thousands

I04 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

of people who, born under its shadow, make their
fasts, their offerings, their prayers, to the invisible
god, dwelling, as they think, in the heart of Iwaki
San (the usual name of the mountain, but also
called Tsugaru Fuji).

^

CHAPTER VI.

Aunt Mary was scarcely allowed a night's rest
before the pastor called to ask her to preach for him
on the Sabbath ; the Bible women called to ask her
to address their woman's meetings; and the school-
teachers came to invite her to a reception. Time
had to be systematized at once; only one meeting
a day ; the morning devoted to study and prepara-
tion; an hour reserved in the afternoon for a nap,
and the evening given to reading and recreation.

Great preparations were made for the reception
at the Jo Gakko (girls' school). This building
was erected by native Christians; and as it had
never been painted, it was called, a little later,
by a new and youthful arrival in Hirosaki, the
"Natural Wood School." Only a limited number
of guests were invited to the reception; but they
were prominent as officers of the Church, or spe-
cial patrons of the school. The girls were all
dressed in their best and brightest clothes, and,

107

I08 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

with gayly-colored hairpins in their glossy heads,
looked not a little like an animated flower-bed.
The hairpins were not all surmounted with flow-
ers; but some took on a new character from the
war, and represented Japanese soldiers standing
on headless bodies of Chinese and waving aloft
heads conspicuous for their long cues.

Speeches and songs of welcome were followed
by an address from Aunt Mary. She had noticed
their stooping shoulders and listless gait, so gave
the girls a talk on exercise, winding up with the
presentation of a bean-bag board. Her speech
was interpreted of course ; but the little missionary
essayed to speak in Japanese. She got on very
well until she attempted to refer to a little inci-
dent fresh from the battle-field, which was just then
filling every Japanese heart with pride in his coun-
tryman's valor. A bugler, by the name of Shira-
kami Genjiro, though mortally wounded, refused
to give up his bugle ; but, with his dying breath,
blew one last, clear, ringing "Susume!" (charge.)
His bugle was a rappa, but she called it a kappa
(meaning sea-monster, also rain-cloak). The Japa-
nese audience, ever courteous and unflinching be-
fore even the gravest errors of seyojhi, could not
endure this amusing change of words, but in-
dulged at once in a hearty burst of laughter.
This quite disconcerted the little missionary, as
she had thought to produce far different emotions;
but she was soon set going again. A young man
in the audience, who was fresh from student life in

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 109

America, and so well knew the difficulties of speech
in a foreign language, prompted her by saying, " I

think rappa is the word you want, Miss ."

The largest Christian home in the city was
opened for a woman's meeting. It was the home
of the popular representative from that district to
the lyower House of Parliament. He was not a
Christian, but his famil}^ were; and they, with all
their relatives and friends on the street, were suffi-
cient in themselves to make a fine woman's meet-
ing. They had not as yet departed from country
customs; but all who were married had a finer,
more shining black polish on their teeth than ever
boot-black put on a pair of boots. Though a well-
to-do home, given to hospitality, it boasted the
possession of not a single chair. The little mis-
sionary, anxious to make Aunt Mary comfortable,
asked for zabuton (cushions), and quite disregard-
ing ordinary Japanese proprieties, piled them on
top of each other in the toko?ioma (sacred alcove
with a raised floor). There were old women,
young women, and a few girls in the company.
The younger ones had the advantage of birth in
the same generation with a public-school system,
and experiened no difficulty in finding the places
in Bible and Hymnal. But the older ones, who,
with a few exceptions, knew no ji (syllabic charac-
ters in which Japanese is written) until they be-
came Christians and wanted to sing, were slow, and
liked to sit where quicker eyes and fingers could
come to their aid. Sometimes the younger women

no INJOURNEYINGSOFT.-

would point with their fingers to the ji as they
sang; and the old gray heads, bent intently over
the page, would try to remember which was ta, and
which was 7io, and which was shi. When they
knew the words, they did not always get the tune ;
but nobody cared about that, if only they were
''making melod}^ in their hearts." There was one
ob'dasan (old woman), however, who was very
proud because she had once served in the damiyo's
household, and because she could read and write.
She always sang above and beyond every one else,
which made the young women titter and the old
women hang their heads in shame.

But all gave earnest heed when Aunt Mary be-
gan to speak. How they watched her face, noted
her gestures, waited for the interpretation of her
words ! Her hair was snowy white, her years more
than theirs ; 3'et how vigorous and strong she was !
How fearlessly she spoke — with what truth and
force ! Physically, mentall}^ and spiritually, in
every way, there was the impress of strength — a
strength for which " sitting on chairs " alone could
not account.

One morning the little missionary was much ex-
cited. The 3"oung man, who had prompted her at the
reception, had come to request Aunt Mary to speak
at the To-o-gijiku (a large private boys' school, re-
ceiving aid in the way of English teaching from the
Methodist Episcopal Missionary Society, but not
friendly to Christianity).

"The teachers in our school have heard of your

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. Ill

fame, and ask you to speak to the students," he
said.

Aunt Mary consented.

" The students do not like Christianity very
well; so please be careful," he added.

'' But I can not make a speech without any relig-
ion in it," was Aunt Mar3^'s quick rejoinder.

" Yes, but please be careful how you saj^ it," he
urged.

When he had gone, the little missionary gave
way to a burst of enthusiasm.

"Why, that is wonderful," she said to Aunt
Mar}^ " Those boys are alwaj^s throwing stones at
our school. Once a stone came crashing through
a window, and fell on my desk, when I w^as teach-
ing a class; and since my first coming to Hirosaki
I have not dared to pass near their buildings, for
fear of being insulted in some waj^ This is a great
victory. I am so glad!"_

The morning of the speech dawned dark and
rainy. " Shall we ask to have it postponed?" was
Aunt Mary's question.

" O no !" was the little missionary's reply. " If
they wish to postpone it, all right; but let us ful-
fill our part of the agreement, rain or shine !"

No word came from the school ; so a little be-
fore the appointed hour they were shut into jin-
rikishas, whose rain3-day curtains were fastened so
close to the hood that the}^ were allowed only a
peep-hole out, and rapidly drawn to the To-o-gijiku.
Some of the teachers met them at the door, and

112 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

gravely led them through the hall and up the
stairs to a room thoroughly characteristic of every
Japanese school. The school may be lacking in
proper class and study rooms; it may be "narrow"
and cramped like the Seiryu Jo Gakko in Nagoya;
still it has its "teachers' room." At the IHrosakl
Jo Gakko one of the class-rooms was divided by a
partial partition, to make a place w^here the teach-
ers could spend their ofF-hours, keep books and
papers, hold numerous consultations, receive guests,
and the like.

But the To-o-gijiku had a proper, entirely sepa-
rate room for its faculty, and into this room Aunt
Mar}^ and the little missionary were now ushered.
In the center of the room stood a table covered
with a white cloth, giving it the appearance of a
dining-room. They were seated in straight-backed
chairs near the table, while tea and cakes were
served in the usual leisurely manner. After par-
taking of these and " resting" for a full half-hour,
they were invited to go to the assembly-room be-
low. On the way, the teacher, who had been in
America, was careful to warn the little missionary
not to walk beside him into the room, as that
would not look well in Japan, he said. The stu-
dents— about three hundred — were gathered in the
gymnasium, and had evidently been waiting for
some time.

It was a strange coincidence that the subject of
promptness should have entered into Aunt Mary's
well-prepared address; but there it was — " He who

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 1 13

would be great, must be prompt. To keep thirty
people waiting one minute each, is equivalent to
keeping one person waiting half an hour." Was
there a bright arithmetician among those students
to compute that, at this ratio, to keep three hun-
dred people waiting thirty minutes, was equal to
keeping one person waiting six days? Probably
not; and even if there had been, the sight of three
hundred people kept waiting thirty minutes, or of
one kept waiting six days, would have been alike,
not at all startling or appalling to his mind.
" Sukoshi mate" (wait a little) would ever come
more easily to his lips than the crisp American
"Be on time!" His "ima" (now or presently)
was expansive, and might as easily mean to-morrow
or next week. His clock — ^if he had one — would
seldom indicate less than thirty minutes before or
behind his neighbor's. But if the students, in the
nature of things, were not impressed that prompt-
ness should be considered an element of greatness,
they gave due attention to the grand old models of
greatness which Aunt Mary drew forth from the
Old Testament for their consideration; and the
young man who had asked her to come could truth-
fully say, " You have done them good."

"There!" said the little missionar}^ " I am
glad I have been in that school once ; and I was n't
stoned or hurt in an}^ way, either."

The little missionary was anxious to give Aunt
Mary a drive after her new horse. It was bought
for a saddle-horse ; but a horse was a horse, and the

114 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

possibility of its not being at home in thills did not
once occur to her. There was only one carriage in
the city — an old phaeton, brought there by a mis-
sionary who had since moved to Tokyo, A betto
(groom) was engaged to take care of the horse and
harness him to the carriage. The first day he had
to wait outside the door for Aunt Mary to finish
her afternoon nap. Suddenly there was a crash and
a shout. The little missionary dared not move, for
she felt in her heart that the horse had run away
and smashed the carriage to pieces. But it was not
so bad as that. Another horse had run into him,
the betto said, and frightened him so that he had
started ; but the carriage was not much damaged ;
he would soon have it mended with a piece of rope.
He did mend it, but Aunt Mary refused to ride ; so
the little missionary had to try it alone. She
brought back such a good account, however, that
Aunt Mary consented to go that way to Fujisaki, a
village five miles distant, where they were to have
a woman's meeting. The nap had to be taken first,
which made one delay. The horse grew impatient,
so the betto went off with him, and was nowhere in
sight when Aunt Mary appeared. Then, when he
did come, they had to go out of their way to take
in the young lady who was to serve as interpreter.
When at last they were fully started, it was time
for the meeting to begin. Aunt Mary drove. The
horse did not want to go. There was no whip, so
the betto jumped off from his perch at the back,
and prodded him with a stick. He went well as

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 115

long as the betto kept prodding him and running
by his side. As soon as the betto returned to his
seat, he resumed his former slow, slow walk. Aunt
Mary slapped him with the lines, and made sad
havoc with her voice in the vain effort to urge him
forward. Again the betto had to jump down and
prod him diligently with the stick, himself setting
an example in running. Again the urging did not
last. Over and over the poor betto had to be on
his feet; and the patience of all was well-nigh ex-
hausted when at last they arrived, very late, at the
church, where a few women were still waiting for
them. The meeting was to be held in a Japanese
room above, used by the pastor as a study. Next
door was a large public school. The pupils had
just been dismissed, and were filling the yard and
street with a tremendous racket. Pilgrims, too,
were on their way to the mountain, adding to the
noise and confusion.

It was difficult, indeed, for Aunt Mary to do
more than talk to the interpreter, and let her try
to make the women hear. They sat in a circle
around the room, with heads bowed down in ap-
proved Japanese form. There were only two or
three faces that were at all responsive. The others
wore a dull, stolid expression that made it very easy
for Aunt Mary to tell which of the women before
her knew Christ and which ones knew him not.
There were no silver crosses gleaming from their
yeri (folds of cloth worn about the neck), no white
ribbons looking soft and pure against their dark

Il6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

kimono (dresses) ; but royalty sat upon their fore-
heads, and purity and temperance shone from their
faces. They were the wives of the leading men
of Fujisaki, who, soon after becoming Christians,
wanted a Church in their own village, had made it
self-supporting, and filled it to overflowing with a
flourishing Sunday-school. One of them had been
a sake (native wine, made from rice) manufacturer,
and habitually intoxicated with his own drinks
until, through Christ, he learned a "way of es-
cape."

As Aunt Mary and her company started home-
ward, after what they were obliged to make a brief
meeting, they found themselves in a crowd of pil-
grims. For many days these pilgrims had been
busy preparing for this annual pilgrimage to the
holy mountain. Their preparations had consisted
in numerous ablutions and fastings, with purchases
of needed supplies for their weary march. Dressed
in simple cotton garments, with waraji (coarse
straw sandals) on their feet, they were bearing
aloft bamboo poles, each adorned with numerous
long, narrow streamers, some of paper, but many
of beautiful, thin wood-shavings, prepared espe-
eially for the purpose. As they marched, they
sang, ''^ Saigiy saigi, doko saigi ii tsimii fiano kai
nana kin inyocho rai,^'' which was interpreted to
Aunt Mary as a song of repentance.

"A repentance that needs to be repented of,"
she tersely remarked.

The horse, like all of his generation, went much

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 117

better on his way home. It was not until they
entered the city that, fearing probably he would
be driven the longest way round, he suddenly
made a sharp cut at a shop corner. Aunt Mary
barely saved him from plunging into the shop and
scattering the carriage and its occupants on the
pavement. It was then that the resolution was
quietly formed to use "Darkey" thereafter only for
a saddle-horse.

Two or three days later they saw the pilgrims
returning. The banners of paper and shavings —
some for prayers, some for votive offerings — had
all been planted on the top of Iwaki San. Their
repentance was completed, and they were now re-
joicing, with dancing feet and waving fans. They
made a weird, fantastic picture, so attractive that
all the schools of the city, even the Jo Gakko, had
to be closed, and Aunt Mary and the little mis-
sionary were often drawn to the roka (veranda) by
the fascination of the strange dance. Only a few
women ventured upon the fatiguing pilgrimage,
and they were glad enough to be jolted along, with
their more exhausted brothers, in open carts.

''I am so sorry," said the good pastor of the
Church to Aunt Mary, "that you should see our
country's disgrace. This is my native town; but
I have been away for years, and did not know it
was still so bad."

" But I am glad," interposed the little mission-
ary; "for now she sees, much better than we could
ever tell her, the great need of Christian work."

Il8 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

No certain news oi the war could yet be ob-
tained. As the country did not seem greatly dis-
turbed, missionaries thought it wise to open their
schools as usual. Those who had been resting in
Hakodate sent word to Aunt Mary to join them in
Aomori, and, sped on her way by the gifts and
parting bows of a grateful company, she started
on the return journey. She had proposed to go
this time in the basha.

"The road is not so very bad. I can just as
well ride in the basha as not," she urged.

But the little missionary w^as quite determined
to take her the most comfortable way; so two jin-
rikishas were ordered for them and one for the
baggage. The man who was to take the baggage
fastened the hat-trunk in his jinrikisha, and started
off, refusing to carry more. This made it neces-
sary for the multitudinous smaller pieces of bag-
gage that had accumulated to be stowed on the
seats with them, on their laps, about their feet,
until Aunt Mary felt impelled to remark, "I think
the basha would have been more comfortable than
this." The little missionary did not like to con-
fess that she thought so too, but tried instead to
bear off the greater part of the packages. At
Namioka, w^here they were to change jinrikishas,
she hoped to make a little better arrangement.

Aunt Mary sang hymns along the way, and
when they reached the poor, straggling village
where they were to make the change and have
luncheon, she said: "I have been thinking how

FROM HIROSAKI TO XAGASAKI. 1 19

restful and free from anxiet}^ I am, because I am
trusting everything on the journey to you! Tl
is just the wa}^ we ought to feel toward our Heav-
enl}' Father."

The little missionar}- listened, but made no re-
pl}^ Her feelings had been far from restful all the
morning, and she was still full of anxiet}^ about the
rest of the journej'. Crowded as they had been,
these jinrikishas must go back from here, and she
was not at all sure of engaging others in Namioka.
It would be humiliating to enter a basha after all,
and that for the worst part of the journey. Be-
sides, the basJias were usually filled at Hirosaki.
While the}' were eating their luncheon she talked
with their landlord about the prospect. He was
ver}' courteous; so she tried to be, meeting every
polite expression of his with one to correspond,
and working upon his S3'mpathies for the Ameri-
can obaasan until he succeeded in making the ar-
rangement she desired for the rest of the wa}'.

Then she felt restful and free from anxiety,
quite ready to appreciate Aunt Mar3''s next words:
"I did not know, of course, what 3'ou were saying,
my dear; but your tones were very pleasant. I
never like to hear missionaries speak in a sharp,
vexed way to the Japanese."

If there had been time she might have con-
fessed to x\unt INIar}' many weary struggles and
sore defeats on this greatest of all missionary bat-
tle-fields, whose victor is pronounced by the Master
himself as "better than he that taketh a city.''

I20 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Like a child who tries to pump with the water
drawn off, and grows angry with the pump itself;
or another who can not find the beginning of a
tangled skein, and does nothing but increase the
tangle, — so she, not understanding the difficulties
before her, had often grown angry with innocent
results; not seeing the beginning of the snarl, had
increased harmless tangles, until she felt that, if
any one in Japan needed a missionary, it was the
little missionary herself.

At Aomori they met the missionaries from Ha-
kodate, who had crossed the straits the night be-
fore. One looked haggard from seasickness ; the
other had been ill all summer, and was not yet
fully recovered. She had with her a little Japa-
nese girl, whom she had adopted when the child
was only a baby, thrown out by heartless parents to
make its own way in an unfriendly world. It was
a good work, Aunt Mary owned, but not the work
for a single missionary to undertake ; so she had
said one day in Hakodate, " I would not let the
child call me mamma, if I were you."

" Would you bring her up without a mother?"
questioned the missionary.

That was hard, but Aunt Mary suggested :
"Anyway, I would not give her my name."

"What name would you give her, then? The
name of the man who disowned her?"

Aunt Mary was really cornered. Her judgment
could no longer hold out against her own mother-
liness, and she left the missionary in silence.

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 121

There was only one foreign bed in Aomori at
the disposal of this party, and that was the bed of
the resident missionary. This was given to Aunt
Mary, and the others made themselves as comforta-
ble as possible in a large zashiki at the hotel, their
futon spread side by side under a great mosquito-
curtain, which filled the room.

On the way to Sendai there was an unexpected
stop. Floods had damaged the railroad, making
it necessary for the passengers to walk some dis-
tance, while their baggage was laboriously trans-
ferred on men's shoulders.

There was a school in Sendai waiting to be
shown Aunt Mary — a school for the poorest of the
poor, who must be taught some simple industry,
if the teaching would be effective. At the en-
trance of the school was a room containing a great
bath-tub, for the confessed purpose of taking from
the children the one thing they had in abundance.

There was a missionary, too, in Sendai, waiting
to talk with Aunt Mary about starting a paper to
be called the " Michi no Shiori " (Guide to Holi-
ness.)

From Sendai to Yokohama, where they were
to stay over Sunday ! It was communion Sabbath
at the Union Church, and, for the second time in
Japan, Aunt Mary was offered fermented wine.
But she let it pass untasted, for how could she re-
member the Savior's death in that which destroys
those for whom he died ?

A little rest again at Nagoya was made memora'

122 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

ble by the passing of an imperial procession. The
emperor was on his way to Hiroshima, the head-
quarters of the army. Fully one hundred thousand
people were in the streets; but for all there were so
man}^ it would be difficult to imagine a quieter, more
orderly crowd. Never a shout was raised as the
imperial carriage passed. There was only devout
obeisance; and after it had disappeared, a shower
of fireworks.

At K3^oto she saw a large new temple, which
was to cost a million dollars when finished. She
had heard that the stones and beams of this tem-
ple were raised to their places by solid coils of
hair, the precious offering of devoted women. A
casual examination, however, revealed the truth.
There w^as just enough hair partiall}^ to conceal the
real rope beneath, so Aunt Mary said they ought
to be called " fraud coils of hair." From this tem-
ple they went to another famous one, containing
only 33,333 gods, one thousand being not less than
five feet in height.

A restful Sabbath in Kobe, followed the next
jmorning by a climb up the mountain-side to see the
waterfalls, for which their lodging-place was named
the "Waterfall House." They were to leave the
railroad now, and go the rest of the way to Naga-
saki by vSteamer. It was not a voyage to be dreaded.
For a day and part of a night, their ship glided
over the wondrous inland sea of Japan. Fair as a
lake, beautiful as a river, all who traversed her
waters were sure to be charmed into sitting long

FROM HIROSAKI TO NAGASAKI. 123

hours on the deck, watching the ever-changing,
often grotesque islands that dotted her surface.

There were a few hours of the open sea; then,
past the rocks from which Christians were said
to have been dashed to death in the years of fierce
political persecution, they slowly steamed into the
land-locked harbor of Nagasaki. Almost at once
Aunt Mary's attention was directed above the tiled
roofs of the long, irregular streets of the city, to a
building set on a hill, where it could not be hid.
She had heard of this building before. Its curious
name, Kwassui Jo Gakko, had been interpreted to
her as the "Fountain of Living Waters School for
Girls;" and now she was to have the privilege of
spending two weeks within its walls, helping to
dispense the "living waters" in sermons, in evan-
gelistic services, in personal conversations. How
she rejoiced in the prospect, and more when she
found some of the graduates of the school actively
engaged in similar work ! One, known as the tem-
perance evangelist of Kwassui, had just persuaded
a noted drunkard and gambler to forsake the foul
and poisonus stream of intoxicating liquors for the
living waters of health and temperance. About
that time, news came to to the school of a young
girl who, for the poverty of her parents, was to be
sold to a life of shame, and made to drink of that
vast river of immorality which is ever overflowing
its banks in Japan, flooding and destroying all that
is purest, best, and noblest. Never did a subscrip-
tion-paper circulate more quickly than the one for

124 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

this girl's redemption, and soon her name was
added to the already long roll of the school.

In the midst of all the teaching and preaching,
rose the busy sound of the hammer, for the founda-
tions had been laid for a chapel and new dormito-
ries. A hospital, also, was just opening, that the
healing waters might be applied to the body as
well as to the soul.

The family circle of Kwassui was enriched by
the presence of several Korean missionaries, who
had sought refuge, for a little time, from the dangers
that threatened them in their war-invaded homes.
With them was no less royal a personage than the
younger brother of the king of Korea. He was
consumed with ambition to follow in the footsteps
of ambitious Japanese students, and cross to the
American continent. With this in view, no one in
the house escaped serving him now and then as
teacher of the English language.

SAHl

CHAPTER VII.

A FINE steamer, the
i^joocHow ^^P^^ss of India,
brought the most wel-
come of all additions
to the home at Nagasaki — a new missionary. But
it also bore away Aunt Mary, who had spent five
months in the East without yet " seeing Emma."
She went in the care of other missionaries, who
were on their way to China, and in their company
the thirty-six hours' voyage to Woosung passed
quickly and pleasantly.

At Woosung there should have been a railway
train waiting to take them to Shanghai. The road
was built — Aunt Mary remembered reading about
it — but torn up as soon as angry Chinamen saw the
great "iron horse" speeding over the graves of their
ancestors. So, instead of rapid travel by rail, the
passengers and all their luggage had to be trans-
ferred to tenders, which bore them slowly up the
river to their destination. When they stopped,
there was a busy scene. Most of the passengers

125

126 IN JO URNE YINGS OFT.

seemed to be making up for lost time by trying to
sort and land their luggage a little sooner than any
one else. These were old residents. The new-
comers were content to wait ; for there were many
novel sights to claim and hold their attention. It
seemed strange to those who had stopped long in
Japan, to see carriages again, drawn by real horses.
Even the familiar jinrikisha had a queer look ; for
it was pulled, not by a trim little Japanese dressed in
blue cotton tights, his head almost concealed in a
great mushroom-shaped hat covered with faded
black cloth, but by a tall, lank Chinaman in loose
trousers, his long cue coiled about his head under
a diminutive straw hat. But a quainter carriage
than either of these was rolling by. They had
never before realized the possibilities contained in
the single-wheeled vehicle which they had known
from childhood as the wheelbarrow. But there it
was, with a partition in the middle making two
seats, just right for a man and his wife ; or, if the
man was away at his work, the mother could still
take one side and have all the children on the
other; if a single passenger from the steamer
wanted to ride, his luggage made excellent ballast to
keep him from falling off. It seemed very funny ;
but of course it was not ; for the people who rode
never laughed, and the man who pushed them
seemed not at all inclined to amusement.

It was Sunday, and Aunt Mary was glad to be
carried, not in wheelbarrow or carriage, but in the
accustomed jinrikisha, to a good, quiet Sabbath

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 127

home. It was a boarding-house, designed espe-
cially for missionaries. The proprietor was a man
who had come to China to be a missionary himself;
but had concluded, after a while, that he had a mis-
sion to other missionaries, which he could best ful-
fill by providing for them this place of refuge.
And a refuge indeed it proved for those who w^ere
compelled, over and over again, to flee from their
looted and ruined homes in the interior to the pro-
tection of their consulates in the Foreign Concession
of Shanghai, It was Aunt Mary's resting-place
while she waited for a delayed steamer to bring her
daughter to her from Foochow. It was not idle
resting, however. " She was preaching and talk-
ing and writing and working all the time," said a
lady in the Home, amazed at the industry of this
white-haired lady who had come to China to visit
her daughter.

Her work was interrupted one day by an invita-
tion to dine at the Home connected with the hospital
and school of the Union Missionary Society. It
was the finest missionary residence Aunt Mary had
yet seen — built of brick, with spacious rooms, beau-
tifully-polished floors, and surrounded by extensive
grounds. It was gratifying to learn that this grand-
eur was not the result of missionary extravagance,
but that a wealthy lady had opportunely purchased
the house and grounds, as they were selling for
much less than their real value, and presented them
to the Society.

The hospital was an unusual illustration of self-

128 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

support, netting one thousand dollars over the year's
expenses. The reception-room was crowded with
waiting patients, to whom a Bible-reader was dis-
pensing the gospel. In the wards were women
and children who, in addition to the pains of ordi-
nary diseases, were suffering in their feet those
other pains which a strange and cruel custom had
fastened upon them forever. In the school near
by were busy girls, with natural, unbound feet, en-
gaged in spinning, weaving, and various industrial
pursuits.

The same evening she was taken to see the va-
rious stages of a binding worse than that inflicted
upon the feet. It was done by a little drug that,
strange to say, had been pronounced harmless by a
commission appointed in England to go to India to
investigate its properties and effects.

Some of the binding-places were so large and
beautiful that they were called "palaces;" others,
so small, so filthy, and ever so filled with the smoke
of the drug, that they were appropriately termed
" dens." Into both " palaces " and " dens," young
women, and even girls, were enticed, and made to
share in a still more fearful bondage.

If Aunt Mary had been accustomed to restless
slumber, she must have had very bad dreams that
night. With all the evils she had seen and known
in Japan, the women's feet had not been bound into
tiny shoes, too small for a bab}^ to wear, and there
had been no opium-smoking; but as soon as its
ports were opened to the world, the Japanese Gov-

TRAVELING IN CHINA. " 1 29

ernment had prohibited entirely the importation
of opium.

The next day there was still another trying ex-
cursion, which, helped her to understand, as never
before, how the Chinese world lives. Only a few
blocks from the beautifully clean, broad streets of
the Foreign Concession, with its rapidly-moving
carriages, and busy, bustling, modern life, is the old,
native walled city of Shanghai. Jinrikishas could
carry Aunt Mary and her company only to the
gates. Dismounting, they entered streets so narrow
that, while examining the wares exposed for sale
on one side, they might easily have fingered those
on the other. They had to walk astride a stream
of filth which coursed through the center of the
street, and avoid as they could the piles of decaying
garbage which stood everywhere. In an open
space was a stagnant pond, covered by so thick and
green a scum that some one facetiously called it a
tea-garden. They were continually surrounded by
crowds of filthy beggars, breathing out intolerable
odors. It was not safe to give them money, for they
would immediately clamor for more, and indulge
in such pushing and pulling that it was difi&cult to
escape without being torn to pieces.

At some seasons, other risks are involved in a
visit to this native city; for it is in such places that
cholera counts its victims by thousands, literally
decimating the entire population.

At last came the day when word went through
the Home, *' The steamer from Foochow is in."

9

130 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

The mother's heart beat high with joy. It was
seven years since she had given her daughter to
China; and now on China's soil the precious gift
was restored for a little time !

The daughter, accompanied by her husband and
eldest son, had planned to join her mother in visit-
ing the Central China Mission and attend its annual
meeting, now convening at Kiukiang. All to-
gether they journeyed up the river. There was
nothing to attract in the scenery; but as they
neared Chinkiang, their first stopping-place, they
noticed two gunboats peacefully moored in the
vicinity of a fort. Upon inquir}^, they learned that
the boats had been ordered to Peking; but their
commander, fearing to obey orders at such great
risk, had decided to stay in a safe place.

The Mission Compound at Chinkiang, like many
of those seen in Japan, was healthfully located on
a hill. The air of cleanliness and good order per-
vading the buildings and grounds, presented a
striking contrast to the dirt and confusion so re-
cently seen in the native city of Shanghai. The
sweet singing of the school-girls, and their prompt,
earnest, and concise testimonies and prayers in an
Kpworth League meeting, were also refreshing and
delightful.

From Chinkiang they continued up the Yangtse,
accompanied by Bishop Ninde, who had his family
with him and a large party of missionaries. Tem-
ples, pagodas, walled cities, now and then came in
sight. One temple, erected on a mountain-top,

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 13 1

sheltered devotees who were endeavoring to win
the favor of gods by spending seven wear f years
in that lonely spot. At one place in the river a
rock shot up two hundred feet above the water, so
completely isolated as to bear the name of "lyittle
Orphan."

It was evening when they reached Kiukiang.
Sedan chairs were in waiting, and one by one, in
narrow file, they rode through the dark, dirty
streets of the city, the little feeling of desolation,
which came in the darkness alone with the coolies,
quickly dispelled by the friendly lights and cheery
voices which welcomed them to the Mission Home.
Among the first to greet them was the pioneer of
the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society to Cen-
tral China. During her twenty years of service she
had worked in West China also, to be driven back
to her earlier fields by riotey similar to those which,
in later years, have so frequently devastated mis-
sionary domains in the interior.

The custom of foot-binding was so general in
Kiukiang that it seemed wise for the new Woman's
Conference, organized by Aunt Mary, to take some
action upon the subject. They decided to call the
Christian women together, and endeavor to pledge
them against the custom. At the first meeting a
woman whose feet had been bound for forty years,
after listening for some time to the exhortation
given, rose and said that she would take the pledge
to unbind her feet. Her husband, who was in the
room, immediately rose, also, to express his ap-

132 IN JOURNEYING S OFT.

proval of his wife's action. He was glad that his
wife was going to unbind her feet, he said. This
was the beginning of several enthusiastic mass-
meetings, characterized b}^ pledges on the part of
the wives, seconded and approved b)' the husbands.

At the close of Conference, before returning to
Shanghai, Aunt Mary's party continued the jour-
ney up the river as far as Hankow, the head of
ocean-steamer navigation. Here the}^ saw the cu-
rious man-boats, pulled along by men on the shore,
much as canal-boats are drawn by horses or mules.
Sedan chairs were again in waiting at the landing,
and the}^ were carried through long, narrow streets,
so densely crowded that thej^ must have passed
thousands of people ; but try as she would, Aunt
Mary could count but twent^^-two women. She
felt relieved to pass out of the crowd at last into
the quiet and good order of a Mission Compound.
This time they were entertained by English mis-
sionaries, who gave them an opportunit}^ to see
much interesting work. Besides a bo}' s' school and
hospitals for both men and women, there was a
school for the blind. Here sightless eyes wxre
bent, not always over books and papers, but often
over baskets and mats, and the various articles in
bamboo and straw which they were taught to
make.

On the return down the river the}^ had a Sab-
bath day's rest at Kiukiang. Before going back to
their steamer the following da}^, they visited a large
tea establishment, where six hundred men were em-

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 133

ployed in grinding tea and making it into tablets
for the Russian market.

At Wu Hu there was much excitement over the
war. The Japanese had been again victorious, the
emperor had fled, the viceroy was on his way to
Peking, the empress was dead; these and many
other reports, some true, some false, were being
busily circulated. All along the river they found
mission work seriously retarded by such rumors.

At Nanking, the ancient capital of China, they
made a trip to the Ming tombs, which are about five
miles out of the city. On the way they had abun-
dant evidence of the spoiling through which the
city had passed during the Taiping rebellion, in the
crumbling gates and falling walls that they saw.
Their road took them through the Tartar city, whose
inhabitants are all fed from the emperor's table;
and as a result, perhaps of'the good food, are larger
and finer-looking than other Chinese. Among
them, also, there are no small-footed women.

When they reached the tombs they found the
way to the entrance made substantial by a solid
stone walk, commanded by a succession of impos-
ing gates, and guarded by rows of sentinels, also
in stone. These represented, not only men, but
lions, tigers, dogs, elephants, horses, and were with-
out important members, one of them having lost
its head. The first gate was the most interesting.
It consisted of a slab of granite resting on the
back of an immense turtle, the whole carved out
of a single stone. It had stood there, some one

134 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

said, for five hundred 3^ears. They passed all the
gates, walking to the spot where the emperors were
buried. Here officials are required to come twice
a year to worship and pay their respects to a dead
royalty.

Near by they found the temple of Confucius,
as bare, dirty, and neglected as any other. Besides
the memorial tablets of Confucius, it contained
some in memory of his father and mother.

There was another temple, filled with images
which were intended to illustrate the pleasures of
heaven and the tortures of hades. The gross, sen-
sual character of the one set, and the cruel inge-
nuity displayed in the other, were a fresh demon-
stration to Aunt Mary of the ignorance and the
horrors of heathenism.

What a pleasure to go from such scenes through
a mission hospital and dispensary, then into a Chris-
tian school and home! The " stone cut out of the
mountain without hands" was very small, but it
was sure to destroy the gold and silver and iron and
clay which man's ignorance and superstition had
led him to worship ; and though the great images,
as they fell, might bury a few missionaries beneath
them, their death would be like Samson's — a song
of triumph.

At Shanghai, while waiting for a steamer to
Foochow, Aunt Mary accepted an invitation to
preach at the headquarters of the China Inland
Mission. Here lives and works the founder of that
unique mission, which has its forces concentrated

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 1 35

Upon "only, and all of, China." An immense map
of China hangs on the wall of the chapel, and
man stands near with a long pointer, ready to
dicate the places to which reference may be made
in the meetings. Touching reports come in from
distant stations. One mission family is shut up in
a besieged city ; another is about to flee on account
of riots ; still another has been invaded by cholera,
and the death-angel has already borne away one of
its members. For all of these cases prayer, earnest
and loving, is offered; and messages, by telegram
when possible, are constant and S3^mpathetic. Here,
also, new missionary arrivals are welcomed, and
given a " God-speed" as they go into the country to
the Home for preliminary training in methods and
language-study. The mission has a head; and so
plans for work, if not always the best, are uniform
and systematic.

It was late in November when finally Aunt
Mary and her friends embarked in a small coast-
steamer for Foochow. The steerage, which also
served as a baggage- room, was full of Chinese en-
gaged in what was to them the most delightful of
all pastimes — smoking opium. With their huge
pipes, about the size and shape of a flute, in their
mouths, they were reclining in such a way as to
hold a tiny ball of opium at the point of a long
needle over the lighted lamp, which was a neces-
sary adjunct of each man's opium outfit. The
ship was filled with this and many other disagree-
able odors. It rocked and pitched against a heavy

136 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

swell, until the whole party gave a sigh of relief
when, on the second day, Sharp Peak was sighted,
and they knew the voyage was nearly ended. Re-
embarking in a steam launch, they puffed their way
smoothly and easily up a charming river to the
landing-place at Foochow. Here, to their disap-
pointment, there was no long row of sedan chairs
waiting to carry them through the narrow streets
and up the hill. They had arrived sooner than
they were expected; so there was no sign of the
grand reception that had been planned for them.
There was nothing to do but to keep the rest of
the party waiting while a resident missionary hur-
ried on to order chairs sent back to them.

In a day or two, Conference opened with a com-
munion service ; and Aunt Mary had the privilege
of kneeling at the same altar with her daughter
and her daughter's husband and children, as well
as a large company of native Christians and mis-
sionaries. On Sunday she was happy again to be
one of a true Conference congregation. Kven the
doors were full of standing people, and the bishop's
sermon went out to all with great power, in no
wise hindered by the effective interpretation ren-
dered by the veteran missionary of the Conference.

At the opening of the Woman's Conference the
following day, an address of welcome w^as pre-
sented by a bright, intelligent Chinese member.
Naturally, it fell to Aunt Mary to respond. Her in-
terpreter was a missionary's daughter, who had been
born and reared on Chinese soil, and was now a mis-

HAIR ORNAMENTS OF A CHINESE LADY.

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 139

sionary herself. Her interpretation was vSo ready
and spirited, that it was not long before Aunt
Mary began to speak of her as " my matchless in-
terpreter." The native women bore an active part
in the discussions, which were all of a helpful,
practical nature, on such subjects as foot-binding,
intemperance, and Sabbath-breaking.

Wednesday, November 28th, was a memorable
day. It was the anniversary of the opening of the
Foochow Girl's Boarding-school thirty-five years
before. In the evening Aunt Mary addressed a
crowded house in Heavenly Rest Church, and
started a subscription fund for a new church-build-
ing in Foochow. The native Christians, with
their preachers and missionaries, proved to be
cheerful and even hilarious givers. Not a few
women drew great silver hoops from their ears,
and various ornaments from hair, neck, and wrists,
that they might have a share in the offerings. The
subscription amounted to fifteen hundred dollars,
preparing all the givers for a joyous thanksgiving.
Consul Hixson opened the doors of the American
consulate to the missionaries and their guests, giv-
ing them, by the aid of Chinese cooks, a true
American Thanksgiving dinner. The next day,
other Chinese cooks prepared for them an equally
elaborate feast; but, alas for the newly arrived visi-
tors! it was to be eaten with chopsticks. The feast
was given by Mrs. Ahok, the widow of a Chinese
Christian of means, who began to give liberally to
mission work before ever he allowed himself to be

140 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

baptized in the Christian faith. The Methodist
Anglo-Chinese College of Foochow was founded
through his generosity in a gift of ten thousand
dollars, and was assisted by other Chinese friends
raised up through his influence.

There was much that was beautiful and attract-
ive in this home — the silken hangings, the lac-
quered chests, the inlaid chairs, the lanterns, the
chandeliers with their wicks floating in open
vessels of oil — but the chief interest centered in
the young bride, who had recently been received
into the home. Her bound feet were incased in
embroidered slippers, which measured the highly
aristocratic length of two inches; her face was elab-
orately painted; her petite figure was attired in
handsome embroideries of silk and satin. She
did not appear at the feast, but was introduced to
the guests at a later hour in her own apartments.
Her wedding gifts made a fine display, a careful
distinction being made between the ones received
from Christian and those from non-Christian
friends. Among the latter were images of the
goddesses of mercy and maternity, which she had
already, no doubt, commenced to worship; for as
yet she knew not the "better way." What a
blessed thing it was for her that she had entered
a home which had received, before her, a more
loved and worthy member! To Him, though in-
visible, had been given the chief place, and soon
she, too, would delight herself with the others in
doing him honor.

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 14 1

At the close of Conference, its benefits were
extended by erecting a large tent on the college
grounds, and inviting the people, generally, to a
series of gospel-meetings. They came; and in
this Chinese tabernacle the presence of the lyord
became manifest to others of his chosen ones,
until there were one hundred and twent3^-five peo-
ple seeking baptism.

From this successful, after-conference gather-
ing, Aunt Mary started on another journey, with
the bishop and a few others, to Kucheng. A
house-boat carried them up the Min River, and in
its tiny sitting-room, which at night was converted
into a bedroom, they passed three quiet, restful
days. It rained during the last night, and in the
morning, when they left the boat to continue their
journey in chairs, it was still raining. After a
little, however, the sun kissed away the clouds,
bringing to view a succession of towering moun-
tains, which, though varying in form and beauty,
were all covered with verdure, being cultivated in
artistically-arranged terraces. Sometimes their
coolies bore them aloft on the heights, along the
edges of steep precipices; but more often they
were down in the deep valley, on a safe, level path
by the river, which also varied, — sometimes only a
shallow stream murmuring over its stony bed;
then a mighty cataract, rushing and roaring over
huge rocks and boulders. The scenery reminded
some of the party of Switzerland. Later, a strike
on the part of their coolies led them to talk of

142 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

America. But every trace of similitude to other
countries vanished from their thoughts when they
entered the Chinese inn, which the striking of
their coolies compelled them to occupy for the
night. In a cold, open, dirty court, surrounded by
a curious, ill-smelling crowd, most of whom w^ere
smoking, they ate their supper. When they had
finished, as one of the missionaries was improving
his opportunity to tell the "old story" to new
listeners, in came some Christian Chinese from
Kucheng. They had walked the long distance of
fifteen miles to be the first to greet their guests.
How bright and happy they looked in contrast to
the hopeless, altogether-miserable audience which
they had unexpectedly joined!

The inn was full of fleas and mosquitoes, which
made sleep impossible; so at an early hour in the
morning their beds were taken up, and they con-
tinued their beautiful mountain journey. While
still within a few miles of Kucheng they saw the
native pastor, clad in hired official robes, advanc-
ing to present his card and formal salutations.
Just outside the city gates others were standing — ■
preachers of the district, teachers of the girls'
schools, teachers and students of the boys' school,
and a great host of native Christians. Of these,
the preachers and teachers only presented cards.
Fire-crackers w^ere fired, making a noisy reception,
which ended in a feast of twenty courses, to be
eaten wdth chopsticks. After this, our travelers
felt the need of the good rest which was given

TRAVELING IN CHINA. 143

them before the Sabbath work began. The Sun-
day congregation was good, though Aunt Mary
was greatly tried when she saw the women, not
merely sitting across the aisle from the men, as they
had done in Japan, but surrounded by screens, that
they might be out of sight. She felt better the
next morning, however, when she visited the
schools for women and girls, and thought of the
sure emancipation that would result from their
Christian training.

The sound of the noisy welcome to Kucheng
had scarcely died away when the noise of farewell
began. There were speeches, there were prayers,
there were songs, there were presents; and again
a great company went out to the gate of the city,
all lingering over the parting as they had hastened
with the greeting. ,

ING CHIANG *^^ "^ rv/wvnc^vr

CHAPTER VllL

Aunt Mary was not yet fully
satisfied as to the luxury of mis-
sionary living. The Mission houses,
she knew, needed to be large and
airy on account of the summer's heat; but the
rugs, the draperies, the bric-a-brac, the table ap-
pointments, often seemed finer than necessary;
and the number of servants employed was still
a wonder. She had once said to a group of mis-
sionaries in Japan: "Now, really, wouldn't you
find it a little hard to go back to America and
live again without servants?" To her surprise,
one of the older members of the little group
burst into tears. This missionar}^ had once gone
into her kitchen just in time to see her cook fill-
ing the tea-kettle with water still warm from the
bath ; and again, to see another cook moistening
freshly-baked loaves of bread by squirting water
over them from his tobacco-stained mouth. One of
the brightest servants she had ever employed, pre-
sented frequent bills for broken chimneys, putting
the money for them in his own pocket. The same
"boy" made a duplicate key of the store-room,
which enabled him to take successive relays from
144

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. T45

the sugar-barrel to sell for his own profit. So, at
thought of America's clean, honest, independent
housekeeping, the wave of homesickness in her
heart suddenly rose beyond control. But to Aunt
Mary and other visitors there could not fail to come
a sense of luxury at sight of apparently neat, w^ell-
trained servants, moving quietly about each mis-
sion home in the performance of their respective
duties.

In her own daughter's home, she had now her
best opportunity to understand these puzzling de-
tails. The house w^as quite as large and grand as
any in which she had visited ; but the family must
include a single missionary, for whom no other
home was provided; and the finest decorations, she
learned, were due to the inventive genius of the
occupants themselves. Then the carpets and cur-
tains and pictures and ornaments, which furnished
the house so attractively, why, the most of them
she recognized as w^edding-gifts ! The table linen
and the silver, too, had a familiar look. "How well
Kmma has kept her things, and how little new she
has bought !" she said to herself, with motherly
pride.

It was quite a company that gathered in the
dining-room each morning, for many olive-plants
had sprung up about her daughter's table. After
they had finished eating, another company filed in —
the cook, the house-boy, the washerman — so many
servants, she hardly dared to count them. Then
her daughter took up — it did not seem like the dear,.

10

146 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

familiar Bible — that book, full of strange, unintelli-
gible hieroglyphs ! But how well Emma under-
stood them! Without the least apparent difficulty
she read and explained a few verses to those who
had just been ministering to her in other ways.
Then they all knelt, while she presented their peti-
tions, still in their own harsh, uncouth language,
to the only Bar that can understand every tongue.

When they were risen, other books were pro-
duced; and though Aunt Mary could not tell the
words, she knew the dear old tunes, and sang her
part through in English.

Prayers over, the servants were dismissed and
Emma went with her children to the school-room.
This was the brightest room in the house, and wore
quite an educational air, with its desks and black-
boards. Soon the mother was facing her chil-
dren— they were now teacher and pupils — and the
work began. The school was divided into four
grades, and there were only the morning hours in
which to teach them; so a carefully-planned pro-
gram must be strictly followed; no calls could be
allowed to interrupt; all other work, all other
pleasure, must be absolutely laid aside. In the
four best hours of the day, from eight to twelve,
she must endeavor to do for her children all that
finely-equipped schools, with their large classes
and well-trained teachers, might have done for them
under other circumstances.

The dinner-hour brought a little relaxation to
all. Then the mother put on her hat and went to

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. 147

look after her other family. Thirty little orphaned
waifs, some of them found starving to death in the
streets, had at last a mother and a home at the or-
phanage. They came tripping through the halls to
meet her, and soon she was in another school-
room, teaching kindergarten plays and songs.
When she came out, they followed, shouting after
her the English "good-bye" she had taught them,
until she was no longer in sight. From the or-
phanage she went to the Anglo-Chinese College to
meet her classes there.

In the evening she went to her husband's office.
He was treasurer and business agent of the Mis-
sion ; also superintendent of the publishing-house,
with forty Chinese workmen to superintend. She
found him poring over the proof-sheets of the " Re-
vised Chinese Dictionary;" and taking some of
them in her hand, she sat down and began the
fourth difficult task of her day. Her day ! A teacher
in the morning; a kindergarten and college teacher
in the afternoon ; and in the evening a student,
correcting that most difficult of all proof, which re-
quired, to do it properly, an exact knowledge of the
ins and outs, the twists and turns, of eight or ten
thousand different ideographs. It was not the day
of an ordinary wife and mother; it was not even
the day of her own busy mother in her younger
years. Such a w^onderful succession of duties ! —
never lessening, even on the Sabbath, only chang-
ing; for it it would not do to give her children a
day-school and no Sunday-school. Then, there was

148 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

a vast number of children outside to be gathered
in and taught of Jesus. Emma's Sunda3^-school
numbered four hundred, drawn together by the
magic of a simple picture-card, but putting to
shame, by their attention, good order, and prompt
answers, many another school in Christian lands,
where the attendance is supposed to be the result
of worthier motives. Aunt Mar}^ was amazed ;
and instead of sighing because there were so many
servants in her daughter's household, she would
have been glad to see another, more competent than
all the rest, to do the many little things the others
never thought to do. Failing this, she knew no
better way than to perform these duties herself,
and went about the house picking up the wash-
ing, sorting papers and magazines, trjdng to relieve,
if only by a little, the daily heavy pressure on her
daughter's hands and heart and brain.

Christmas w^as drawing near, and invitations to
various festivities were flying as fast as snowflakes
in a colder clime. The first one Aunt Mary at-
tended w^as at the hospital the day before Christ-
mas. The same evening she went to the church
to a Sunday-school entertainment. An elaborate
program had been prepared, its participants rang-
ing from orphanage babies to college seniors. The
decorations were extremely showy — not only lan-
terns and flags and banners of all shapes and sizes,
but lamps burning behind colored transparencies,
and huge pink candles aglow with light and color.

On Christmas-day, the missionaries had a tree

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IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. I5I

for their own families; and in the evening "peace
and good- will" were manifested to the women and
girls of the training-school.

The following day a special Christmas program
was rendered by the older students of the girls' board-
ing-school. It contained one exercise, thoroughly
amusing to both the pupils and their guests. This
was the clever representation by one of the girls,
in dress and voice and manners, of an American
lady, another girl serving as her interpreter.

These entertainments were succeeded by Com-
mencement exercises, until a welcome diversion
was afforded by an invitation to a Chinese wedding.
The bride was the granddaughter of the first bap-
tized Christian woman in Foochow, and the groom
was the son of the oldest preacher in the Confer-
ence. Two feasts were given ; one by the bride be-
fore the wedding, to women only ; and the other, at
w^hich the bride was not present, by the husband,
after the wedding. She was carried to her new
home in a closed sedan chair, used only for wed-
dings. The top was adorned with a brass dragon ;
the glass windows were decorated with figures of
men, women, and children ; and the curtains of red,
the bridal color, were covered with embroidery.

She was accompanied by a long procession of
friends, carrying torches, lanterns, and the wedding
umbrella of red silk. A band of music was aided,
in its endeavor to make noise, by the useful fire-
cracker; and if sound is its symbol, this part of
the rejoicing was complete.

152 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

When the procession reached the bridegroom's
home, the bridal chair, with the bride still in it,
was carried into the court and rested on the pave-
ment. Here it was surrounded, not only by the in-
vided guests, but also by many uninvited ones who
had followed it from the street. After a while the
curtains were lifted, and the bride was borne away
to meet the groom. Their first conference must
have been short ; for soon they appeared together,
her face veiled with strings of beads, his with down-
cast looks and solemn mien. The ceremony was
much like any other Christian wedding ceremony,
only that the prayers and vows were in Chinese,
and, to make it a more truly religious service, hymns
had been selected for the beginning and close.
" Guide me, O thou great Jehovah," was the open-
ing hymn, and the service ended with "There is a
fountain filled with blood."

Like most brides, soon after the ceremony she
was compelled to retire to change her dress; for
hers was a hired costume and must be returned, and
her hair must at once be re-dressed in the style
prescribed for a married woman.

January 26th ushered in the Chinese New- Year.
Busy preparations had been made for this, the
great day of all the year. The women had been
doing their annual house-cleaning; the men had
been settling the old year's accounts, borrowing
anew, if necessary, to pay the old debts ; and now
they were ready for their one day of rest. It was
kept as many another would keep a rest-day, the

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. 153

noise of firecrackers taking the place of the usual
bustle of trade, and the making of feasts and giv-
ing of gifts filling every home with scenes of social
revelry.

When this New- Year's was over, Aunt Mary ac-
cepted an urgent invitation from Dr. Sites to accom-
pany him and his daughter, who was the " matchless
interpreter," on a trip over the Ming Chiang Dis-
trict. The whole journey was a triumphal march,
native Christians coming miles from their homes to
meet them, waving branches of banana-trees (with
strips of cloth attached to them for bananas), and
shooting firecrackers for their hosannas.

Their best welcome, however, lay in the atten-
tion and loyal response given to their words of
exhortation. At Lek Du, the meetings were held
in the ancestral hall of a man who had been the
Christians' most bitter persecutor. In those days
they were not allowed to enter his home, and, if they
dared to approach, were at once driven away with
oaths and curses. Like another, he had boldly said,
" What have I to do with thee?" but now, like that
other, he was at home, telling all his friends what
great things the Lord had done for him.

From place to place, from meeting to meeting!
Sometimes their audience was a large and noisy
one, composed mostly of non-Christians. It may
have been respect for Aunt Mary's white hair, or it
may have been some other gentle, sweet influence
that subdued them ; but after a little the^^ were
sure to give earnest attention to the new, strange

154 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

"Jesus doctrine," which many of them were hear-
ing for the first time.

The meetings for Christians were even more
inspiring. It was a coveted privilege to talk to
some of China's hardly-redeemed millions — re-
deemed, many of them, from the depths of sin —
gamblers, drunkards, opium-smokers, revilers, idol-
aters! How she would have shrunk from close
association with them before their redemption !

Some of the meetings were for workers, and
there was one mothers' meeting, attended by fully
one hundred women. In a Chinese home where
she was entertained, her hostess, who was still an
idolater, promised Aunt Mary that she would now
give up her idols and become a Christian. Soon
after receiving this promise, an idol procession
passed by. The idols were carried in sedan chairs.
''^They must needs be borne ^ because they ca7i not go.^'
In the procession were bands of musicians, and
men carrying banners, and, of course, the usual
street crowd following.

The next Sunday Dr. Sites baptized many of
the old-time followers in these processions; others
he received into full membership in the Church.
As he heard their testimonies, clear and satisfying,
to the saving power of Christ, he could not forbear
shouting with true Methodist fervor : " Hallelujah !
This is very near heaven !"

It was nearer heaven for him than he thought.
Taken severely ill that Sabbath night, he was re-
moved to Foochow a few days later, and on the

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. 1 55

following Sunday the gates of the Eternal City
opened, and he was shouting his hallelujahs with
*' the great multitude which no man can number,"
unto Him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the
Lamb for ever and ever. With the exception of the
daughter, who had been with him on this last trip,
his family were all in America — too far away to
come to his funeral, unable even to weep at his
grave. Their absence made a double grief for the
daughter, who, with yearning love and longing,
turned for comfort to Aunt Mary, whom many of the
missionaries in Foochow called " Mother Nind."
" We, too, feel that our mother has come to see us,"
they had early said to the true daughter, who freely
and lovingly shared her with them all.

The visits to the Anglo-Chinese College, where
over two hundred students are in attendance, were
always enjoyable. The college, largely self-support-
ing, is exerting a widespread and powerful influence
in the Fukien Province. Out from its halls young
men have gone, not only educated, but redeemed,
to fill positions of usefulness in the Government,
in mercantile life, and in the Church of God. It
was the joy of "Mother Nind" to have a Bible-
class with some of these young men, who at the
suggestion of their teacher, "the single missionary,"
were gathered once a week in her daughter's par-
lor, and blessed seasons they were.

Politeness, cleanliness, and earnestness charac-
terized them all, and made them very attractive to
" Mother Nind," and she loved to talk of them as

156 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

her " dear bo3'S." The}^ in turn, appreciated her
motherly interest in them, and on her birthday
presented her with two beautiful scrolls, which
adorn the parlor in her Detroit home, and often
inspire prayer for the donors and the college.

The consulates and Mission Compounds of Foo-
chow are located outside the native walled city, on
sloping hills, that would be beautiful were it not
for the graves that make them like one vast cem-
etery. They are not the graves of missionaries
and other foreigners — for these are by themselves
in inclosed grounds, one English, one American —
but the graves of generation upon generation of
Chinese. "It is not true," a long-resident mis-
sionary said, " that they bury their dead above the
ground, simply covering them with a little earth.
They dig beneath the surface to a decent depth,
before they undertake to bury the body." This
explanation made them look a little better — those
numberless, nameless, grass-covered mounds, strewn
about in seemingly careless irregularity.

" When we buy a bit of land," it was another
who volunteered this information, "we must hunt
up all the men who own graves on that particular
plot, and make a separate bargain with each one.
If we can do this, the land with its graves is ours."
These ways, that seemed so strange and uncanny to
" Mother Nind" at first, soon became familiar; and
as she rode back and forth in her open chair, borne
by two coolies dressed in the neat blue and white
uniform which she had provided for them, her

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IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. 1 59

thoughts were always of the living, seldom (s( the
dead. It was a trial to her to be dependent upon
any kind of a carriage ; but Chinese customs did
not allow a woman to walk, subjecting her, in nar-
row, crowded streets, to rough, rude treatment, if
she ventured to assert her freedom. Safely carried
in her chair and accompanied by missionaries, some-
times of her own board, often of others, " Mother
Nind" visited many interesting places in and
about Foochow. Within the walled city, she en-
tered one day a large court-yard, containing row
upon row of tiny cells, each about six feet high by
four feet wide. These cells are for voluntary pris-
oners, some of them offering large bribes for the
privilege of imprisonment. At times ten thousand
people are shut up here, making, with officials
and servants, a total population of fifteen thousand.
These prisoners are students who come to compete
for Government degrees. During the days of ex-
amination, each student is locked in his tiny cell,
obliged to eat and sleep, as well as work, in those
narrow confines until the examination is ended.
The successful competitors, who number scarcely
one out of a hundred, are conducted to a hall, as
plain and unpretentious as the cells they have been
occupying, to receive their degrees. The unsuc-
cessful try again ; and, if then they dp not succeed,
still they try again.

Not far away was the " Bridge of Ten Thou-
sand Ages," resting upon such solid blocks of
granite that it looked good for ages yet to come;

l6o IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

and the old palace, which had endured long after
the royal heads that it once sheltered had perished
with the Government that they represented.

Here, also, was another temple to Confucius, a
comparatively new building, as the old one had
been destroyed by fire. It contained tablets to
Confucius, his twelve disciples, and many others,
the first bearing this inscription, " Equal of
Heaven and Earth." Onl}^ officials worship in
this temple twice a year, with great display.

One day in early spring, the missionaries in
Foochow w^ere gathered together to celebrate a
signal event. It was the birthday anniversary
and farewell reception combined of a veteran
American Board missionary. He was now seventy-
five 3^ears old. Early in his nearly half a century
of active service he and his wife together prepared
the original Chinese dictionary, then undergoing
revision at the Methodist Publishing-house. At
such an age, after so long a period of service, their
return to their native land seemed as fitting as the
dropping of ripe fruit to the soil that nourished it.

Almost as interesting to "Mother Nind" was
an invitation to supper at the home of a native
preacher, the first convert won to Christianity by
some of these earlier missionaries of the American
Board. The respect shown to the wife and mother-
in-law, the prompt obedience of the children,
and the air of cleanliness and good order which
pervaded the house, led her mentally to inscribe
on its walls such titles as "A Model Family," "A

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW. l6l

Christian Home," "A Work of Grace," "Fruits of
Righteousness," and thoroughly to rejoice in the
possibiHties of even a Chinese household, when
Christ comes in as a constant guest.

At lyU-loi, a village about seven miles from
Foochow, she saw other wonders of grace. An
old woman, who had from her girlhood been pos-
sessed of a spirit of divination, had been converted,
and was preaching Christ to those whom she had
before seduced. Like the " certain damsel" whom
Paul met, she had brought her relatives much gain
by her soothsaying; and they, greatly vexed, were
persecuting her severely for turning from it.

Another, whose dissatisfied husband had taken
unto himself two other wives, had found a true
husband in the Lord, and was joyfully proclaiming
his merits to others.

June 2oth, the anniversary of the earthquake
in Tokyo, found Mother Nind fleeing from an
equally imminent danger. The sun had risen with
scorching heat in the plains, warning the inhabit-
ants not to remain lest they be consumed. For-
tunately a mount of retreat was near. Only ten
miles distant the beautiful mountain pass of Ku
lyiang rises to a height of twenty-five hundred feet
above the sea. Here the members of the foreign
community at Foochow have erected their summer
cottages, or sanitariums. Many denominations are
represented, but all have united in the erection of
a little chapel, where they may refresh their weary
spirits by religious services in their own tongue,

II

1 62 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

for which they have so Httle time during the year.
In this quiet haven of rest, on the first day of
August, suddenly a bombshell burst, which filled
the air with anxious forebodings, and darkened it
with the smoke of a terrible sorrow. Two of the
English missionaries stationed at Kucheng had
been murdered in their summer home at Whasang.
The next morning the number reported to have
been killed was increased to five ; and some hours
later the whole startling account was theirs. Mr.
and Mrs. Stewart and six other missionaries had
been attacked early in the morning, some of them
in their beds, by a company of masked men,
and brutally massacred. The five children of Mr.
and Mrs. Stewart, the youngest only an infant,
were in the yard with their nurse at the time.
When the rufi&ans had finished the work of mur-
dering the parents, they came out and attacked the
nurse. Mildred, the oldest child, rushed forward
and bravely pleaded for her life. "You have killed
our papa and mamma," she cried; ''and if you kill
her, too, there will be no one left to take care of
us." But, unheeding her cries or those of her
brothers and sisters, they did not leave until the
nurse was dead, two of the little ones mortally
wounded, and the brave Mildred herself lamed
for life. In quiet Ku Liang, it was difficult to real-
ize the full import of the tragedy. The English
consul himself, thinking the reports exaggerated,
prepared to spend the Sabbath following in his
quiet mountain retreat as usual. But he and others

IN AND ABOUT F 00 CHOW. 163

in authority were fully aroused at last. Officials
were sent to Kucheng to make investigations and,
if possible, secure the murderers, British gun-
boats came to guard the harbor. A squad of Chi-
nese soldiers was ordered up the mountain to pro-
tect the missionaries. Anxious days and sleepless
nights slowly passed in their mournful procession.
Why had God permitted it? was the thought in many
a heart, and faith itself seemed stricken for a time.
But these Christian missionaries were not left
long to grope in the dark. I^ight dawned about
the promise, "There shall not a hair of your head
perish;" and they began to realize how "the blood
of martyrs" can be "the seed of the Church."
Scarcely had the news of the massacre reached
England when a call went out from the Church
Missionary Society for ten new missionaries to
take the place of each martyred one. This same
spirit of supply arose, even in the hearts of the
little children who had been so suddenly and cru-
elly orphaned by the massacre. Mildred was so
badly injured that for weeks she lay at death's door
in the hospital. When the nurse was bandaging
the poor wounded knee one day, she said, by way
of conversation, "Perhaps you will be doing just
such work as this, here some day, dear." Quickly
the child looked up, and wnth great earnestness
replied: "O no! not here! I must go to Kucheng
to take papa's and mamma's place." Some time,
perhaps, we shall learn that the burial of the good
is never a burial to decay, but to more enduring

164 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

life and growth in both this world and the next.
The missionaries will ever hold in grateful re-
membrance the faithful services of United States
Consul Hixson in the time of their danger and sor-
row. ^ Forgetful of himself and his comfort in that
heated term, though the martyrs were British sub-
jects (the only American being our rescued Miss
Hartford), he at once planned for the safety and
comfort of those that were spared, and through his
tireless energy and undaunted courage, amid diffi-
culties that can not be comprehended in home lands,
demanded investigation and retribution of the Chi-
nese Government, and secured both. No wonder
that, on retiring from the office he had so nobly
filled, the Americans of the port of Foochow pre-
sented him with a picture of the Angel Monument,
erected in memory of the martyrs in the cemetery
of the English Church, framed in silver bamboo,
bearing the inscription:

PRE^SENTED
TO

(ZOix. J. c:ou5T^EY yi:^so]^,

U. S. CONSUI, AT EOOCHOW, CHINA,

1893-1897,

BY THE AMERICANS OE THAT PORT,

In token of their appreciation of his official
services, and especially of his promptness in
sending aid to the survivors of the Whasang
Massacre, and his efficient endeavors to secure
the punishment of the perpetrators of that
crime.

IN AND ABOUT FOOCHOW, 1 65

The gratitude and prayers of the missionaries
will follow him to his Southern home.

By the first of October it was safe for Mother
Nind to return to the city, where cholera had been
doing its deadly work all summer, laying low
twenty thousand victims.

The wheel of life for her had nearly completed
its seventieth revolution, and though it had recently
whirled her through the excitement of earthquake,
plague, and massacre, health and strength were w^ell
preserved. All her friends in Foochow prepared
to rejoice with her as the w^heel swung round to its
starting-point. October 9th was the birthda}^ anni-
versary; but the celebration, not confined to that
day, began the evening of the 7th, with a beautiful
gift from the employees of the publishing-house.
It was a scroll of red silk, decorated with embroi-
dered figures, representing Luck, Prosperity, Old
Age, Longevity, and Cheerfulness. The next
morning the givers came in to present their congrat-
ulations in person. Then the servants presented
their scrolls. On one was inscribed these senti-
ments: "A woman can maintain her widowhood;"
and, "The brilliant old star and the blossoming
plant exhibit superexcellent felicity." Among
other gifts was a spectacle-case, with the inscription
on one side, " Let all the dust be brushed off, that
everything may be clear;" and on the other, "You
may obtain bright views of things by using these
spectacles all round the world."

This day, beginning with callers and their gifts,

1 66 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

closed with a Chinese feast, given b}^ the daughter
in her mother's honor. On the birthday itself, mis-
sionaries, and members of the foreign community
generalh', presented congratulations and gifts, and
an afternoon tea was served for them. The mails
brought other greetings from over the seas, until
the whole globe seemed belted with loving mes-
sages. Best of all was a liberal offering, presented
in the name of the China and Japan representatives
of the Woman's Foreign Missionary Society, in
whose ser^^ce so man}- of her birthda3-s had been
spent, to assist Mother Xind in visiting their sisters
in India. A similar gift was received from the
Church Missionary Societ}^ missionaries in appre-
ciation of what Mother Nind's abundant labors
had been to them during the summer.

=\S/A/ OPPOSE

'^00 CHOW

KOWG

CHAPTER IX.

"MoTHKR Nind" had
lived a whole year in China.
Months before, her traveling
companions had said "good-
bye" and had turned their
faces homeward by way of
Japan. But she was longing
to see India. Of all mission-
fields, that was the first she loved, the first for
which she worked, and the one she most desired to
see. If only she could find a traveler who wanted
to go that way ! Her " matchless interpreter " was
soon to have a furlough. Perhaps she would like
to visit India! "Yes," she replied; but she ex-
pected to take a Chinese girl with her, and could
not stop. Knowing no one else to ask, Mother
Nind could only commit her way to the Lord, trust-
ing in him that he would bring it to pass. Her
faith was rewarded through a letter, received un-
expectedly one day from Hirosaki, Japan. "I
hear that you are going home by waj^ of India, if
you can find a traveling companion," the little
missionary wrote. " Every one tells me that I
ought to ask for a furlough at this coming Con-
ference. If it is granted, would you object to me

for a traveling companion?"

167

1 68 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

An answer went back at once, to meet the little
missionar}^ at Conference ; and it w^as soon decided
that thej^ should start together from Foochow the
last of October. And so it happened that the birth-
day feasts and gifts were also a farewell.

The morning of the little missionary's arrival
the daughter was busy, as usual, in the school-
room, the son-in-law in his office ; so Mother Nind
started out alone with the chairs. She was earl}^
and had a long time to wait. As she w^alked up and
down the landing, her thoughts were busy; not
about the expected companion, or the country from
which she came ; not about India, the countr}^ to
which she was going ; but about China — great China,
the country she was leaving. Her spirit, the spirit
of eloquence that had moved her in other days,
stirred w^ithin her as she thought ; and with a few
odd scraps of paper and a pencil she put into being
her

FARKWElyly TO CHINA.

China, farewell! Farewell to thy mountains,
hills, and valleys ; to th}^ rice-fields, and well-tilled
farms ; to thy rivers, rivulets, and rushing moun-
tain streams ; to thj^ bold and beautiful scenery ;
to thy trees, fruits, and flowers ; to all the prospects
that please in the realm of nature, where our
Father has dealt with a lavish hand, farewell !

Farewell to thy narrow, noisy, filthy, crowded
streets, where pestiferous odors, rising from accu-
mulated heaps of offal and refuse, which lie undis-

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 169

turbed by road commissioner or health officer, are
breeding disease and death! Farewell to thy pov-
erty-stricken, depressed and oppressed masses ; to
thy poor, weary toilers and burden-bearers ; to thy
half-clad, half-fed millions; to thy beggars, blind,
lame, and leprous, loathsome and piteous to behold !
Farewell to thy dark, drear, and dirty homes, where
many generations exist, crowded and cursed by
heathenism ! Farewell to thy ancestral halls, and
homes of wealth and plenty! Farewell to thy cor-
rupt and weak government, for truth has fallen in
the streets, and equity can not enter ! Farewell to
thy temples, shrines, pagodas, with their corrupt
priests, their multitudes of idols, their incense-
burning, and idol-worshiping ; their pilgrims and
their pilgrimages; their gongs and bells that, like
the prophets of Baal, in vain call the gods to come
to the worshipers.

Farewell to thy myriads of graves, and the pros-
trate weepers and wallers, rending the air with
their hideous yells ! Farewell to thy unburied, un-
coffined dead, waiting for time, or cash, or a lucky
day, to give them interment !

Farewell to thy degraded, dejected women, be-
trothed without their consent, servants and slaves
of men; and to thy neglected, despised wddows !
To all the poor people who dwell in gross dark-
ness, sitting in the region of the shadow of death,
farewell I

Farewell to all the happy homes, organized and
perpetuated by our holy Christianity ; to their

lyo IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

family altars, and blessed harmony and love ; to the
thousands washed and redeemed, cleansed and
purified, by the atonement; to all the native
Churches, with their preachers, teachers, members,
Bible-women, evangelists, and colporteurs ; to the
noble band of missionaries; to the schools, Sun-
day, day, boarding, training, and kindergarten; to
the colleges and orphanages ; to the churches and
chapels and homes, in city and country, where the
Word of God is preached and sung; to the tent-
meetings,''Conferences, and Conventions; to the hos-
pitals and dispensaries; to the blessed fellowship
with godly men and women, who have borne the
burden and heat of the day for love of Christ and
souls ; to the graves of the martyrs and the ceme-
tery where rests, in glorious hope, their sleeping
dust ! Farewell ! Farewell ! To this land, rocked
by war, invaded by plague and cholera; on the
eve of a mighty revolution, which shall prepare
the way of the Lord and make his paths straight,
when the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and
all flesh shall see it together ! To the land where
rich harvests are about to be gathered as the result
of prayerful seed-sowing ; where more laborers are
needed, and other heroes must come to take the
place of the crowned martyrs! To the land of
Sinim, of which the prophet Isaiah writes! To
this land, with its industrious, patient, plodding,
persevering, artistic, ancient, and in some respects
ambitious people ; this cosmopolitan, yet conserva-
tive race, with its ancient literature, its classics '

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 1 71

To this land, where the New Testament is now in
the hands of the emperor and empress ; this land,
for which more prayers are offered, and tow^ard
which more eyes are turned, than ever before !
lyand of contrasts ; of ignorance and knowledge ;
of povert}^ and wealth ; of darkness and li^ht ; of
idolatry and Christianity ; land of science, and land
of slavery ; a land of immense undeveloped re-
sources, where milHons yet lack the necessities of
life! I^and of Confucius, and land of Sinim, fare-
well ! Still we love thee and laud thee, and pity
and pray for thee, believe and expect great things
of thee; for China shall be a redeemed people!
China, our China ! Farewell ! farewell !

Her passage was engaged in the good ship
Formosa, a cargo steamer of the P. and O. line.
Besides the little missionary, she w^ould have the
company, as far as Singapore, of the "matchless
interpreter," with her Chinese proteges, the three
surviving children of the Stewart famil}^, their
aunt who had come from England for them, and a
lady missionary of the Church of England, who
was broken down in health and must return home.

The parting with her grandchildren, though she
expected to see them the following year in America,
was harder even than saying farewell to China.
After the good-bye kisses had all been given, the
one little girl, Alice, put up her hands again, sa}'-
mg, " I want to love you more, grandma." There
were others who wanted to " love her more." The

172 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

single missionary, whose room had been next to
hers, thought how she would miss the " morning
meeting," as she called it, when Mother Nind sang
hymns over her bath. Many of the missionaries
accompanied her to the steamer, and knelt about
her in her tiny cabin to hear themselves prayed for
again. She had entered so into the details of their
life that she had seemed like one of them. Many
a little reform on the Mission Compound had been
due to her energ}^ and perseverance. Among the
things that had grieved her was the delivery of
mail on the Sabbath. The missionaries had not
thought it possible to do other than receive it; but
through her enterprise, a petition, which was
granted, was sent to the post-office authorities re-
questing the retention of all mission mail that
might come on Sunday, until Monday.

Others besides Mother Nind's friends were at
the steamer. One, a tall English missionary, was
so completely disguised in his shaven head, long
cue, and Chinese dress, that the little missionary
mistook him for a real Chinaman.

" Do you think it is better for the missionaries
to wear the native dress?" she asked Mother Nind.

"I don't know" was the reply. " It certainly
does not save them from being massacred ; for all
who were killed at Whasang wore the Chinese
dress."

** I wonder if they are as particular as the Jap-
anese about the various details of their costume?"
commented the little missionary.

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 1 73

" They notice every fold and knot so closely
that if a missionary wants to escape criticism, she
is better off in her own dress. Just before leaving
Japan I heard one of our preachers severely
criticise the Salvation Army officers, w^ho have re-
cently arrived, dressed in Japanese clothes, made
in England. He said : ' They call themselves an
army ; but our soldiers do not go to the battle-
field in loose, flowing sleeves and skirts. They
have adopted the close, military dress, approved by
other natives. Then they are preachers ; but what
one of our preachers has not a foreign dress to
wear, when he enters his pulpit?' "

As in most English steamers, the officers of the
Formosa sat at the same table with the passengers.
With the exception of the captain, who was op-
posed to argument, they seemed determined to
throw down some challenge for debate at every
meal. At such times the missionaries were glad,
indeed, to have a champion like Mother Nind on
their side. One day the subject was temperance.
An officer remarked, "The Bible is opposed to total
abstinence." She replied only by quoting such pas-
sages as "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is rag-
ing," and " Eook not upon the wine when it is
red," etc., with special emphasis on the work
'' lookr That officer subsided, and another took up
the strain : " But I fa7icy [pronounced f ahnc}']
that the wine the Savior made was the strong-
est of intoxicating beverages." "Fancy has no
place in an argument," quickly replied Mother

174 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Nind, and that debate was ended. Again, when
Moody and other prominent evangelists were as-
sailed, she listened for a while, then quietly re-
marked: "Excuse me, gentlemen, but I am per-
sonally acquainted with those workers, and am
happy to inform you that the things you say of
them are not true."

Another time she heard some one flippantly re-
mark, "All's well that ends well." And, quick as
a flash, replied, " Yes, but I want well to begin on."

But, debating as they so often did on the wrong
side, they were ever kind and courteous, vying
with each other in gentleness and tender attention
to the wants of the lame Mildred, who had to be
carried on deck each day. Kathleen, the next
younger, in her rosy cheeks and active play, pre-
sented a striking contrast to the pale, quiet sister.
She was quite as mature, however, in her care of
the little brother, never allowing him to make any
moves that seemed at all dangerous.

Evan, the youngest, was still troubled by bad
dreams, in which he saw the dreadful Chinamen
coming again to take him; and often he awoke in
the night screaming with terror. But one morn-
ing, as his aunt was preparing his breakfast, he
looked up with a bright smiling face and said,
" God was very good to me last night, and gave
me no bad dreams." He was a very thoughtful
little fellow; so when she asked him, " Evan, do
you think I love you?" he replied with another
question: "Why did you come so far to get me?"

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 175

The Formosa made her first .stop at Hong Kong,
and Mother Nind improved the opportunity to tread
once more on safe and solid KngHsh soil. Many
times she remarked, " How good it is to be on a
bit of land under the protection of the English
Government!"

The captain had said, "There are two nice
trips to make in Hong Kong, one to ' Happy Val-
ley,' and the other to the ' Peak.' " So, after wan-
dering about in the shops a little, she and her
companions engaged jinrikishas to take them to
"Happy Valley." It was only a short ride from
the city to the beautiful dale which bore the name
of " Happy Valley," and which they found con-
tained a race-course and a graveyard, — pleasure for
the living and rest for the dead. The cemetery
was extensive, containing separate divisions for
Jew^ and Mohammedan, Protestant and Catholic.
The Protestant was most attractive, with its flower-
beds and fountains, its palms and other tropical
trees, which were growing in great luxuriance. It
would have seemed like a park had it not been
for numerous white stones, telling their sad tale
of death and decay, and for many newly-made
graves yawning to receive the dead that incoming
ships w^ere sure to bring.

From " Happy Valley " their jinrikisha run-
ners (Chinese) drew them rapidly to the tram-station
on the hill. Every one said it was perfectly safe —
that cable-line up the mountain, which looked al-
most as near a perpendicular as an elevator! So

176 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

they ventured to undertake the trip. Noticing 1,2,
and 3 in big figures, on the various compartments
of the car, Mother Nind said, "Now I '11 save my
money, and go third-class." Her companions fol-
lowed her example, passing by the luxurious, in-
closed, first-class compartment, to take as good
places as they could find in the open seats outside.
Pretty soon the car started. How very steep it
was! It made them dizzy to look up or down or
sideways. All at once the car stopped still on that
dreadful perpendicular. Hearts bounded to mouths,
where they staid until it went on again. After
a little the incline became more gradual ; then an-
other steep place, and again the car stopped. '' I be-
lieve they stop just to show how well they can hold
the car!" the little missionary indignantly ex-
claimed. But the conductor was collecting fares.

" Fifty cents, please," he said.

" But we are riding third-class," Mother Nind
replied.

" Pardon me, madam, but you are in a seat re-
served for first-class smokers."

The train did not take them to the top, but left
them near the Peak House, where they had planned
to have luncheon. Here another surprise awaited
them, for the Peak House was not a mountain
booth, where they could buy cold boiled eggs and
sandwiches, but a fine hotel, with lovely grounds,
and no meals less than seventy-five cents.

" It seems impossible to make this a cheap trip.
I 'm afraid I shall have to spend my Foochow

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. I 77

souvenirs," said Mother Nind; and she took them
out of her purse as she spoke. They were two Mex-
ican dollars ; one clean and smooth as it had come
from the mint ; the other showing much use, and so
indented in the middle that it would hold water.
" The Chinese in Foochow hammer ever}^ coin be-
fore they accept it, to make sure that it is gen-
uine," she explained to the little missionary.

" That is better than the way they do in West
China. It must be very inconvenient to have only
strings of copper cash and silver bullion, which
must be weighed as it is used. But those will be
very curious at home, and you must n't spend them,
I will settle this bill, and you can pay me when you
get the first installment on your letter of credit,"
said the little missionary.

The remainder of the distance to the Peak had
to be made by actual climbing; and though the
path led over a broad, beautiful concrete walk,
with many delightful resting-places along the way,
they were all tired enough when they reached the
Peak itself. But there was plenty to rest them in
the view from the highest point of the lovely
mountainous island of Hong Kong. There was
the broad, blue sea ; the quiet harbor, full of ship-
ping, their own big steamer looking as tiny as any
at that height; the strong, substantial buildings
of this English town in the "far East;" the beau-
tiful homes on the mountain !

"How high is this mountain?" asked Mother
Nind of the signal-station man.

12

178 IN JOURNEYIA^GS OFT.

" Bighteen hundred and twenty-five feet," he
rephed.

"Just the year in which I was born," she re-
marked ; and the others thought that, with the aid
of that mnemonic, they, too, might remember.

Their fifty cents fare up the mountain had in-
cluded a return ticket, so they went down in style
in the luxurious first-class compartment. On the
way, the "matchless interpreter" said:

" I wonder if we can't get some soda-water here.
I feel very thirsty."

" So do 1, and especially for soda-water," chimed
in the little missionary; "for I haven't had any
since I went to Japan, over five years ago."

People are never so foolish on land as when they
have been at sea a little while ; so they dragged
their weary limbs about the streets of Hong Kong,
hunting for soda-water, until they were fully con-
vinced there was none.

" Is n't it strange that the English do n't care
for soda-water?" said these tired, thirsty Americans,
as they finished their day by buying bottled lem-
onade on the steamer.

" How did you like ' Happy Valley?' " and " Did
you climb to the ' Peak?' " were the inquiries that
came from the ship's officers.

"That train is fearful, isn't it?" said the stew-
ardess. "When I got off, I just said, ' Thank God !'
and I never wanted to go on again."

That evening, as the little missionary was en-
gaged in conversation with the captain about the

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 1 79

differences in the Englisli language, as spoken by
the English and the Americans, she said :

** I learned a new word last night."

" What is that?" asked the captain.

'' In America, when we wish to speak of the
number of guests to be served at a dinner, we say,
'There are so many plates, or so many covers ;' but
you say ' forms.' "

The captain looked puzzled.

"lyast night, when I asked the stewardess if
we could have an early breakfast, as we wanted to
go ashore, she asked me, 'How many forms?'"

Still the captain looked puzzled, and said that
he had never heard that word before.

The little missionary was disconcerted; but
thought that she would speak to Mother Nind about
it, as she was English born and bred. Mother Nind
did not know the word, so she went to the stew-
ardess herself to ask her what she said.

" I said, ' How many for. Miss?' " the stewardess
replied.

Soon after leaving Hong Kong, the Formosa was
attacked by a monsoon, and for two or three days
was rocked as violently as a cradle by a small boy
who is in a hurry to get the baby to sleep, and be
off to a game of ball. Early in the storm the
little missionary was thrown on the floor. Then
the side-pieces were all put in, and the berths
made secure; the steamer chairs were lashed to
the deck ; a full set of racks was placed on the
table, and the passengers learned to be dextrous

l8o IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

in balancing plates of soup and cups of coffee in
their hands ; for the entire contents would spill,
if allowed to rest on the table. Sometimes they
did not feel like taking soup or coffee, but were con-
tent .to lie in their berths, or on the cushioned seats
of the saloon, listening to the swish-swash of the
water as it came into the lower deck. Occasion-
ally the monotony was relieved by a crash and
the sound of voices :

" How many smashed ?"

"Only one!" came the cheery answer.

Mother Nind was a good sailor, and continued
her walks on deck, though she could take few
steps without the aid of an officer's arm. To see
her trying to walk on a floor that was constantly
playing see-saw, now up, now down, one could
readily believe what the captain of an Atlantic
steamer once said of her: "There's a passenger
who has walked half way across the ocean."

By the 12th of November the sea was calm
again. Writing materials were brought out once
more, and letters prepared to mail at Singapore.
As the little missionary was writing the date, sud-
denly she exclaimed, "Why, this is my birth-
day!" The "matchless interpreter" heard the
words, and passed them on. The next evening,
at dinner, a fine birthday cake ornamented the
table, and the little missionary unexpectedly found
herself the recipient of the congratulations of all
on board.'

As they neared Singapore, Mother Nind's heart

FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. iSl

overflowed with joy. "I could not sleep last
night," she said to the little missionary; "but lay
awake much of the time, praising the I^ord for
bringing me to Singapore." Then she told the
story of how the Woman's Foreign Missionary
Society opened work in Singapore : " Bishop Har-
ris had just returned from a trip around the world,
and reported it to be the wickedest place he had
ever seen, with street after street containing not
one decent house of any kind. Our general exec-
utive meeting, at Evanston, Illinois, appointed a
committee to consider the advisability of opening
work there. Their report was short and unfavor-
able. There was too little money in the treasury
to undertake work in such a new and difficult field,
they said. As the report was about to be accepted,
I felt impelled to rise and move that the commit-
tee be requested to frame a new report favorable
to the work; that I would take, not merely a dip,
but a plunge of faith, and pledge the Minneapolis
Branch for three thousand dollars. My motion
prevailed, and I had to go to work to raise the
money. When I had fifteen hundred dollars, I
began to pray for a worker. Strange to say, as I
prayed in America, God answered my prayer in
Australia. It was when Miss I^eonard was there,
conducting evangelistic services. Through her ef-
forts. Miss Sophia Blackmore was led to conse-
crate herself to foreign missionary work, and. after
a few months in India, accepted our appointment
to Singapore. She has been here nine years ; and,

1 82 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

though I have been corresponding with her all
that time, I shall see her for the first to-day."

It had been raining, and the decks were quite
wet when Mother Nind and her companion ven-
tured out for a good look at their equatorial sur-
roundings. " It 's always raining in Singapore,"
one of the officers said. Just ahead was a beauti-
ful group of palms, spreading their leaves in the
form of huge fans; and a village of huts, built on
piles over the water ; on the roadway leading to the
pier, open carts were approaching, drawn by fat,
sleepy-looking, white bullocks; and nearing the
ship by water was a boat, loaded with great red
and white corals.

"When you land," the captain said, "you must
take a gari for ^^ourselves, and a bullock cart for
your luggage;" and he kindh^ deputed one of his
officers to help them ashore and engage the proper
vehicles for them. Half wondering what a gari
could be, the}^ hastily gathered their luggage to-
gether, said good-bye to the passengers they were
to leave behind, and hastened ashore. The gari
proved to be neither jinrikisha nor sedan chair, but
a closed carriage, wath two seats inside for passen-
gers, and a driver's seat outside. One poor little
pony had to supply the motive power; but it
moved rapidl}^, every step causing the gari to rat-
tle so that the occupants had to shout to make
each other hear. Their road \3.y first over a bit of
the country l3ang low and wet from recent rains.
Then streets came into view, a disused street-car

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road, and trees and foliage, new and many of them
unknown to our travelers. The driver seemed un-
certain how to find the address which they had given
him, so they were relieved when they discovered
the sign, ■" Sophia Road," and knew that they were
going in the right direction. " I have a great many
S's to make, when I direct a letter to Miss Black-
more," Mother Nind said. "It's Miss Sophia
Blackmore, Sophia Road, Singapore, Straits Set-
tlements."

But, already they had entered the grounds of
the ''Mary C. Nind Deaconess Home," and Miss
Blackmore was coming down the steps to meet
them. The ground-floor was occupied by the
children of the Home, while the deaconesses
lived above; so they were invited to ascend the
stairs, which were on the outside, leading to the
upper veranda. The veranda was broad, and fur-
nished with chairs and tables like a sitting-room.
It opened into the drawing-room, where our party
were attracted, first of all, to a large portrait of
Mother Nind, which seemed to be there to wel-
come them to her own home. But after removing
hats and wraps, they preferred to sit in the ve-
randa.

"What is this great tree in front, covered with
large, drooping leaves?" some one asked.

"We call that the * umbrella-tree,' " was the
reply.

"And what is that yonder, covered with bright,
scarlet blossoms?"

lS6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

" That's the ' flaming forest.' "

What wonderful trees, what palms, what ferns,
what spreading luxuriance, and in the middle of
November, high time for snow to be flying in
other lands !

These reflections were interrupted by a step on
the stairs. What a weary step it was ! When the
face appeared, it was thin and pallid to correspond.
She was another of Mother Nind's missionary,
daughters, who had been out less than three years,
but was already "breaking down." She confessed
that she was overworking, and promised to try to
give up some of her work. Then Miss Blackmore
was called down-stairs. The bullock-cart had
come wdth the baggage. When she returned she
said :

" The man wanted more money than you told
me to pay."

" Did you give it to him?"

"Yes. I thought it wiser not to have any
trouble with him."

There he was, driving off with his cart — a
cloth wound around his head for a turban, an-
other about his loins; and, for the rest, a dark,
shining skin his only covering. It was wiser not
to have any trouble wdth hhn.

"My head aches, and I feel badly. Will you
give me a place to lie down?" asked the little mis-
sionary.

After awhile the "matchless interpreter"
came in.

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FROM FOOCHOW TO SINGAPORE. 1 89

'' My head aches dreadfully," she said, "and I can
hardly breathe. I feel as if I were shut up in a
hot-house, the air is so close and steamy."

" That must be what 's the matter with me," said
the little missionary. "It's the air. I wondered
what could give me such a headache."

After lunching on honey, bread and butter, and
delicate, fresh plantains, they felt better, and were
ready to go to the steamer; for the "matchless in-
terpreter" and her companion, sweet Margaret
Wong, must continue their journey on the For-
mosa. The new mission gari was ordered for
them. On the way it began to rain. The nice,
fresh curtains were taken out, and they were shut
in as quickly as possible.

"This rain is full of malaria," the accompany-
ing missionary said. " We have to be very careful
not to get the least drop on us."

A little later the "matchless interpreter" called
out to the little missionary, " There 's a drop of
malaria on you," and mischievously hastened to
brush it off.

They had arrived at the landing, where they
expected to find a boat to take them to the steamer.
How it w^as raining! Never before had the new-
comers been in such a downfall as this. The
floodgates of heaven seemed wide open, pouring
forth rivers of waters. "It always rains like this
in Singapore," they were informed.

They could understand now, the warning about
malaria, and were glad to wait under cover for the

I go IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

boat, that v>^as not there, to come; and for the sun,
that was hidden, to shine again.

When at last the outgoing travelers were taken
on board their steamer, and the missionary was re-
turning in the boat with her one guest, all nature
was smiling as if she had never been in tears.

''Just look at the English cathedral!" ex-
claimed Miss F. "What a grand sight!"

"But it's all covered with mold," said the little
missionary.

"Yes, that 's what makes it look so ancient and
fine," said Miss F.

"How long has it been built?" asked the little
missionar}^

"Thirty years," was the reply.

CHAPTER X.

fiyiivGOow

PBNANC

SINOA>OR£

"I FORGOT to tell you about your bed last night.
Did you try to get in it?" asked Miss Blackmore
of Mother Nind in the morning.

"Yes, I looked a long time for the upper sheet
before I concluded there wasn't any," was the
reply.

"We always make our beds that way, for we
seldom need any covering; and if toward morning
it grows damp and cool, a light blanket or shawl,
we find better than a sheet," said Miss Blackmore.

" I was glad you told me it was safe to leave my
doors open," said Mother Nind, whose fondness
for fresh air did not grow less in Singapore.

"Yes, the doors opening into the upper veranda
are always open, night and day. If you will no-
tice, we have n't a bit of glass in this house. The

191

192 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Open doors let in plenty of light, and we never
want to shut out the air," remarked Miss Black-
more.

"Is it always warm as this?" queried the little
missionary.

"'Yes, and warmer ; for this is our coolest time
now, during the rainy season," she replied.

"I don't wonder that every one looks so pale,
then," said the little missionary.

" Every one gets sallow here," said a new dea-
coness, who was dreading the time when her face
should lose its fair complexion. "You can see the
roses fade out of one's cheeks, they go so quickly."

After breakfast, which was served at nine
o'clock, Mother Nind and the little missionary
were invited to visit a Eurasian school, that had
recently been organized by one of the missionary
daughters. The school was conducted in a base-
ment that seemed, with its stone pavement, not un-
like a cellar. The children, too, looked like cellar-
grown plants, their faces so thin and sickly, and
their breath seeming to come in gasps. Poor
things! They can not live in the sunshine. It
wilts them ; and they do not flourish in the shade.

From this school the visitors were carried in
the gari to a Chinese school, where English is
taught through the medium of the local Malay
tongue. The people of this school presented a
striking contrast to the English and Eurasians,
looking healthy and well suited to their surround-
ings. Their costume, modest as the Chinese dress

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 1 93

is under all circumstances, was the extreme of sim-
plicity and perfect adaptation to a tropical climate —
pantaloons and loose jacket, fastened in front by
corded loops and knots for the boys; and for the
girls, a plain, straight skirt, and a long, loose sack,
held together by ornamental pins at neck and
waist, and sometimes a third between. Their
clothing was all of cotton, and the embodiment
of ease and comfort.

Singapore, sometimes called the "Chinaman's
paradise," is one place where he has come to
stay. Several generations of Chinese have grown
up on the island, forming the most stable, wealthy
class in the community. They speak the easy
Malay tongue, and are eager to acquire a thorough
knowledge of English, which makes a good open-
ing wedge for missionary work.

From Teluk A5^er, the Chinese school, several
Chinese homes were visited. Mother Nind was
surprised at the richness of the interiors. She
had seen few houses like these in Foochow, she
said. In some of the homes little schools were
held for the girls; for the more aristocratic Chi-
nese parents will not allow their daughters to
go to public schools like Teluk Ayer. The greet-
ings were more cordial than those to which Mother
Nind had become accustomed; for the Chinaman
in Singapore no longer shakes his own hands, but
has wisely adopted the English custom of shaking
his visitor's hands. Chairs were offered them.
Often they were of beautiful inlaid work, set

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194 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

stiffly against the wall and alternating with small
tables, all ready for serving the indispensable cup
of tea; and sometimes after the tea, a handful of
jasmine petals was given to each guest, as a sweet
odor of hospitality to bear away. In one of these
houses lived Sin Neo, the first woman baptized in
the Deaconess Home. She had suffered much per-
secution for her heroism, but her face wore the
look of a victor. After giving each of her guests
a cordial hand-clasp, with Miss Blackmore's aid as
an interpreter, she began to talk to Mother Nind.
At first, both waited for the interpretation; but
that soon grew too slow a medium of conversation
as they found themselves understanding, the one
the Malay, and the other the English, by gesture
only. Sin Neo compared her height with Mother
Nind's, to show that the latter was the taller; then
Mother Nind pointed to her shoes and Sin Neo's
bare feet, to convince her that she was mistaken,
that they were really the same height. On part-
ing, Sin Neo gave her guest a hearty kiss, humbly
requesting her to condescend to become her mother.
Two or three days later she was present, with
many other Chinese women and children, at a re-
ception given to Mother Nind at the Deaconess
Home. Most of them came in garis\ for they be-
longed to wealthy homes, which would have been
forever disgraced if they had walked. They were
dressed like the girls in Teluk A3^er, the brilliant
jewels that gleamed from their breast-pins form-
ing a strong contrast to the cotton garments thus

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 195

held together. Their teeth and lips were stained
with the juice of the betel-nut, which many of
them continued to chew during the reception.
But some of these stained lips moved a feeling
response when Mother Nind said they should
pray every day; and when she had finished her
address, Sin Neo voiced their thoughts in a little
speech, thanking her for coming, and expressing
the wish that she might live to visit them again.

It was examination time in the Middle Road
School for Girls. The platform and altar — for the
school had to serve as a church on Sundays — were
banked with palms. Bouquets of roses and ferns
were ready to be given to the examining committee
and visitors. The pupils were dressed as for a pic-
ture, each with a bit of her best sewing spread on
the desk before her. At the appointed hour a car-
riage drove up, and I^ady Mitchell, wife of the
governor of the Straits Settlements, stepped out.
She and a lady friend were the examining com-
mittee, and very carefully and thoroughly did they
inspect each little piece of work. When they had
finished, the school was called to order, and she
arose to express her approbation, in a few sweet, gra-
cious words ; then the flowers were presented, and
she was gone. The ordeal had lasted but an hour,
and there was still time for singing and a talk by
Mother Nind.

" How much better they sing here than in China
or Japan!" she said to her companion on the way
home. "Their voices, many of them, are really

196 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

sweet; but in China I often felt like putting my
hands in my ears when they sang."

" The Malay is a musical language, I think,"
said the little missionary, "and much easier than
Chinese. In Shanghai I tried to learn a few
Chinese expressions ; but I could not distinguish
the tones, and came away not knowing a single
word. But in Singapore, already I have learned
several, and I love to say them."

On Sunday, Mother Nind and the little mis-
sionary separated to go different ways ; for the
one had been asked to preach, and the other
wanted to see the Sunday-school work. The lat-
ter came home very enthusiastic. " Wh}^, Mother
Nind ! I thought I was a hard worker, and I
thought I had seen other missionaries work hard ;
but Miss F. beats us all. Since I left you at the
breakfast-table I have seen the beginning, middle,
and close of eight different Sunday-schools. Three
of them were in the homes where we saw the little,
private day-schools; and the mothers and grand-
mothers stood around listening to the singing and
stories about Jesus with as much interest and atten-
tion as they gave to us and the English recitations
the other day. One was a regularly-conducted
Sunday-school at Teluk Ayer, and the others were
street schools. The teachers would station them-
selves under the shadow of a friendly roof, call
the children together by singing, show a picture
of the International I^eaf Cluster, talk about it,
give them cards, and go on. At one of these

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FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 1 99

places the people invited us in, and said they
would like to have the school inside next time.
It is so different from our work in Japan!"

Mother Nind, too, was enthusastic about her
morning. She had a good time preaching to a
mixed audience, with interpretation in Malay.

In the early evening there was a service at an-
other Methodist church for an English-speaking
congregation. The lamps were not yet lighted,
though twilight, calm and cool, was rapidly steal-
ing over the island of palms. Sweet odors per^
vaded the atmosphere ; visions of dark, restful
green, and soft, gentle blue filled every open door
and window; the peace and beauty of nature had
entered the "house made with hands." It was
a communion service ; and as the worshipers from
far-away lands knelt at the altar, the good and
true seemed never so near, and the bad and false
never so distant, as there in wicked Singapore.

After the six o'clock dinner each evening, Sun-
days and week-days alike, the children of the
Home came up the stairs to the drawing-room for
a religious service. It was a curious family ;
dusky Tamils and fair Eurasians, Malays, Siamese,
Portuguese — fit emblems of the heavenly home,
which shall gather in its borders of " every kindred,
and tongue, and people, and nation !" They sat
on the floor with their feet crossed under them,
and sang with great delight hymn after hymn ;
some in English, but more in the sweet Malay.

After they had gone one night, the little mis-

200 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

sionary said: "I'd like to see them at their meals
some day."

"I don't think you would enjoy that," Miss
Blackmore replied.

"Why not? How do they eat?" were ques-
tions that quickl}' followed.

"With their fingers!" and both faces looked
intense disgust.

" How much cleaner and more civilized chop-
sticks are!" thought the little missionary.

The Methodist work in Singapore was only
ten years old ; but in that one decade it had
grown with tropical rapidity and in tropical va-
riety. There was preaching in Chinese, as well
as in Malay and in English; there were board-
ing-schools and day-schools; there was a Soldier's
Home, an orphanage, rescue work, an active,
busy press. One of the most flourishing insti-
tutions was an Anglo-Chinese school for boys,
with an enrollment of six hundred students. Rep-
resenting many different nationalities, the major-
ity were Chinese. Coming from homes of wealth,
they were able to pay for their education, and
made the school largely self-supporting. Some
of them were boarders, discarding chopsticks, and
eating with knife and fork and spoon in approved
European style. One day Mother Nind and her
companion were invited to dinner in the boarding
department, with the principal and his family.
The dining-room was a large basement-room, an-
other of the "cellars," as the little missionary

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FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 203

called them. The missionary, with his wife and
children, sat at a table near the center. The va-
cant places at that table, as well as all the other
tables, were filled with Chinese students. " This
is wonderful!" exclaimed the little missionary.
*' I 've never seen anything like it in Japan or
China. The missionary eating with his pupils :
We should starve on their food, and we could not
afford to give them ours."

Mother Nind was invited to address the stu-
dents at the school. She arrived before the morn-
ing session began, in time to witness a curious
scene. Here and there, through the grounds, vend-
ers of various kinds of queerly-prepared food had
planted their little stands; and the day-pupils,
who had been their patrons, were standing near,
eating their breakfast. Straw hats, felt hats, close
caps, bare heads, shaven heads and cues, a strange
mingling of the nations ! But w^hen they were
called to order, and sang, in clear, ringing tones,
and in the dear English words, '' Gospel bells are
ringing," it was clear how they were to be united:
simply through the ties of the one true religion
and the universal language !

" Will you come and take breakfast with us to-
morrow?" was another invitation that came to
Mother Nind and the little missionary. " How
strange to be invited out to breakfast!" they
thought. Karly in the morning a cup of tea and
bit of toast were served to them in the dining-
room or in their own rooms, as they liked ; but

204 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

the real breakfast was not prepared until nine or
ten o'clock, so that repast had grown to be as
much a company meal as any other. Often the
little missionary had looked out of her room, as
she was getting up, to see two of the missionar}^
daughters seated in an opposite veranda, poring
over their books with a teacher, trying to get as
much hard work done as possible before the heat
of the day began. When they came into their nine
o'clock breakfast, they had finished their Malay
lesson, and had done quite a bit of school-work
as well.

One morning the visitors were out before
breakfast. Every one had said they must not leave
without seeing the "Gardens;" so to the "Gar-
dens " they went. And such gardens ! Such trees,
such shrubs ! Such luxuriance of foliage, such pro-
fusion of flowers ! What envy they would arouse
in the bosom of a Northern gardener ! He has to
labor so diligently in his greenhouse, with pipes
and hose and glass, to produce a few pots of green,
dwarfed, stunted specimens of the abounding mag-
nificence of the tropics, rejoicing if he be rewarded
now and then with sight of flower or fruit! There
was a place called a greenhouse in these gardens ;
but it was only an open booth, destitute of glass, of
pipes, of hose ; for the whole atmosphere is ever
steamy with heat and moisture, and the sun never
withdraws its warmth and brightness. They
would have lingered among the wondrous ferns
and orchids of that greenhouse ; but the sun was

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 205

getting high, and they must hasten to the Home
and breakfast.

One of the missionaries had a good story to re-
port at table : " Many of the people who open their
homes to the teaching of English are opposed to
the Christianity we mix with it; but they think
that while their children are little, it will not hurt
them any. One man, lately, was much troubled
because his wife had been listening and was in-
clined to believe. He said to some one: "My wife
want to be Christian. I no like that ; but she be-
come very nice wife."

I^uncheon was eaten in the home of the mis-
sionary who was engaged in rescue work. " There
are a good many Japanese women here," she said
to the little missionary. "Wouldn't you like
to go out with me some afternoon to talk to them
in their own language?" An appointment was
promptly made. When the day and hour arrived,
they rode in jinrikishas until they neared the dwell-
ings of darkness. Dismounting, they dismissed
the runners and walked to the one they wished to
visit.

It was late in the afternoon. The women had
just risen from their mid-day naps, and were en-
gaged, some in dressing, and others in eating their
evening meal. But all were quite ready to talk,
and often indulged in a coarse, loud laugh at their
visitors' expense. Tears came to the eyes of the
little missionary. Could it be that these bold,
brazen creatures in foreign costume belonged to

206 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

the same race as the gentle, modest women, Chris-
tian and non-Christian, whom she had learned to
love? She tried to appeal to that Japanese spirit,
which so often outlasts the dying breath.

" Do n't you know you are a disgrace to your
country?" she said.

" Kuni no koto wo sukoshi mo omoimasen (Our
country's affairs we think of no more)," they re-
plied.

*' Do you see how rotten this wood is?" said a
Singapore missionary to Mother Nind one day, as
he put his foot down into great holes in the floor of
his house.

"What makes it so?" she asked.

"White ants," he replied. "The only wood
they won't eat is teak-wood ; so that is almost price-
less in value here."

The food in all the homes was kept from ants
by inserting the legs of tables, sideboards, vSafes, and
refrigerators in small vessels filled with water ; but
floors and ceilings could not be protected that way,
unless, perhaps, the missionaries should adopt the
Malay custom of building on piles over the sea.

At night lizards came out on the walls, frighten-
ing newcomers at first, but after a little becom-
ing good company because of their quiet, unob-
trusive, polite manners.

Day succeeds day, so hot and enervating that
there seems to be only one good, comfortable hour
in the twent5^-four ; and that is the hour of the
daily bath. The bath-room is there ; not a luxury

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 207

as in many American homes, but a positive neces-
sity. It does not contain a beautiful porcelain tub,
with hot and cold water to turn on at will ; it has
not even a Japanese hogshead, with a charcoal
stove inside to heat the water so much hotter than
the surrounding atmosphere that the latter will
seem cool by contrast. Its appointments are the
simplest possible — only a jar of cold water and a
dipper; but they are quite enough to give one the
most refreshing bath in the world — the cold shower-
bath of India and Malaysia.

"A week is a very short time to spend in Sin-
gapore," all the missionaries said to Mother Nind.

But their passage was engaged on the steamship
Lindula of the British India Line. A heavy shower
was threatening, as a few friends drove with them
to the steamboat landing; so good-byes had to be
hurried. As they saw the garis that contained their
friends moving rapidly away, and the first drops of
the threatened rain beginning to fall, Mother Nind
voiced the feeling of homesickness and loneliness
that came to them at the beginning of this new
voyage, by saying, " We seem quite alone now."
But in an energetic manner she shook it off at
once by making herself at home in her new sur-
roundings, opening her traveling-bags, and neatly
disposing in her stateroom the various articles she
expected to need on the voyage.

They were out only a day or two, when the
steamer made her first stop at Penang. It was early
in the morning when she came to anchor ; but

208 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

through^ the kindness of Singapore missionaries,
some one knew of their coming, and was ready
with a boat to take them ashore. This " some
one" looked harassed, and was quick and nervous
in manner. With her ready sympathy. Mother
Nind soon learned the cause. In a climate where
one man's work should be divided among two or
three, he was, according to that ratio, shouldering
the work of six. He was a physician with a consid-
erable practice ; as presiding elder of the Penang
District, he preached each Sabbath in three lan-
guages— English, Chinese, and Malay — besides pre-
paring to conduct sacramental services in Tamil,
and was general superintendent of a number of
schools taught in these various languages. When
they arrived at his home, they found a school on
the first floor, and an invalid wife and family of
frail, delicate children above. A large room served
for a drawing-room at one end and a dining-room
at the other. The little missionary was captivated
at once by the broad, beautiful sea-view from the
windows. " How delightful !" she exclaimed. "I 'd
like to have a picture of it!"

A little later she remarked, ''This beach must
make a fine bathing-place for the children."

"They never bathe there," wearily replied
the mother. " They can't on account of the
sharks."

The little missionary looked aghast.

'* But can't you protect a little place for them in
some way?" she said.

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 209

'* Yes, but it would cost a hundred dollars to do
so," was the reply.

"I don't believe I ever had any real trials,"
thought the little missionary. " Those I thought I
had grow smaller and smaller as I see other mis-
sionaries, and will soon be gone entirely, I am sure."

After breakfast and prayers with the servants —
a difficult task, as they represented almost as many
different races and languages as individuals — their
host proposed to take them out sight-seeing.

"There are the 'Gardens' and the schools.
Where shall we go first?" he asked.

" O, the work must be first," quickly answered
Mother Nind.

The schools, though not so numerous, pre-
sented much the same variety as at Singapore.
Another big Anglo-Chinese school was trying
to grow still larger in a small, inconvenient, rented
building. A school for girls, giving instruction
in Malay and English, did not yet aspire to the
dignity of a building to itself; but was the one
first seen in the missionary's home. A little
school, swarming with black, half-naked Tamils,
proved most interesting. Their chief instructor
was an old man of their own race, who had become
an earnest Christian, bearing the significant name
of Simon Peter.

" Penang is larger than Singapore, and the heat
is more trying because of the reflection from these
white roads," was information given on their way
to the " Gardens." But they did not mind the

14

2IO IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

heat and the reflection, for they had entered a
cocoanut-grove. They never knew how far they
drove through that forest of palms, but it seemed
to extend miles in every direction. How they
delighted in looking up at the feathery, graceful
fruits about them ! The fruit was fully grown, and
they wondered how the big nuts could be gathered
from the extreme top of those tall, slender trunks.
But there was never any trouble about that, they
were told. Not one, even on the tallest palm,
was ever sacrificed, because it was hard to reach.

As soon as they emerged from the forest, they
were in the heat again. It was too hot to enjoy
walking about the Gardens, and they were con-
tent with one look at the mysterious waterfall,
whose source yet remains unknown, but whose
volume is sufiQcient to suppl}^ the whole city with
water.

When, after a full day, their host took them
back to the steamer, they found the hold just clos-
ing on a million cocoanuts, the cargo received since
morning.

The following day at sea, as they were sitting
below, all at once they heard unusual noises on
deck, the rapid turning of the screw, then dead
silence. The steamer had stopped in midocean !
After a little pause they were relieved to hear the
sound of the propeller again, and the ship moving
steadily as before. Going on deck, they discovered
the cause of the disturbance. A junk containing
seven or eight people, one of them a woman, was

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 211

lashed to the ship, rising and falling in the con-
stant swell caused by the large vessel. Seventeen
days before, she had started from Penang for the lit-
tle island of Junk Ceylon, after a load of bullocks.
One night, soon after starting, she had drifted from
her moorings ; and for fifteen days her unfortunate
passengers had been wandering in the open sea,
unable to get their bearings and determine their
course. Once before they had seen a steamer and
signaled their distress; but, like many other dis-
tressed travelers, had been "passed by on the other
side.'* Rice and water were nearly gone, just
enough for that one day ; then they must lie down
to die. But the Liyidida was a "good Samaritan,"
who stopped on her journey, going fifty miles out
of her course to take the wanderers toward their
desired haven.

Provisions and water were given them ; and as
the water coursed slowly through the long hose
into their barrel, the captain's voice rang out:
" Fill her up fully Mother Nind whispered, " How
like our captain that is!" Before the junk was
cut loose, her captain, a native who could speak
fairly good English, was called on deck and inter-
viewed. He salaamed to Captain Withers, who
said: "You have taken me out of my course.
You must pay me a thousand dollars."

The poor fellow put his head on his breast and
replied: "Me no money! Make me your servant
forever !"

Captain Withers said: "Then I put your junk

212 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

on board with all our passengers, and take you to
Rangoon to have you shut up in jail."

Quickly came the answer: "No do that! Cut
my head off! That better!" And after a little
pause, " But you no save me to kill me !" and all
anxiety faded from his face, leaving it smiling and
confident.

The sun was setting when the junk was cut
loose, her captain vigorously waving his bandana,
and all on board both boats bright and happy.
Those on the big vessel watched with great interest
as the little sail was raised and the junk began to
move toward her port, which was then in plain
sight ; and they continued to look, until their own
more rapidily moving steamer caused her to fade
from her view.

The passenger list of the Lindula was longer
than that of the Formosa, and included a number
of second-class passengers. Mother Nind was
much distressed to be the owner again of a first-
class ticket. Two missionaries from West China
were traveling second-class, and they tried to re-
lieve her distress. They were in Chinese dress,
with long cues hanging down their backs, and
had thrilling tales to tell of the riots which had
driven them from their work. "We are used to
anything; second-class is good enough for us, but
it would n't do for you," they said to her.

The first-class travelers included a niece of the
Vanderbilts, on her wedding journey around the
world; another lad}^ traveling alone, except for

FROM SINGAPORE TO RANGOON. 213

her maid; and several gentlemen. Among these
was an old man who had accumulated much
wealth as a tea-merchant, and who was distin-
guished as a member of the British Parliament.
He always spent the weeks when Parliament was
not in session in traveling; for, as he sadly re-
marked, " Though I have four houses I have no
home." Mother Nind and the little missionary
looked at him pityingly, as they quickly thought
of the many homes in India now waiting to re-
ceive them ; of the homes where they had already
been so lovingly welcomed ; and of the other homes
in far-away America, where their dear ones had
often looked and longed for them.

What a delightful inheritance they had in
houses and brethren, and sisters and mothers, and
children and lands ! Had some fairy godmother
touched them with her wand? for they had suddenly
become rich while he was very poor.

Captain Withers, like most sea-captains, was
social and entertaining. lyike many another, he
was attracted to Mother Nind, and often took a
brisk walk up and down the deck with her. " There
are two classes of passengers I never forget," he
said, "the nice ones and the nasty [pronounced
nahsty] ones. The indifferent ones, who sit off b}-
themselves reading, I soon forget; but I always re-
member the nice ones and the nasty ones." All
this, with an approving look at his companion, as
if he were already quite sure in which of his men-
tal classes she would appear! He took a fancy,

214- IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

also, to the Chinese missionaries, and was enthu-
siastic in his remarks about them. " That Upcraft
is a wonderful fellow," he said. "I sat up in his
room until after eleven o'clock last night, hearing
him talk. Such experiences as he has had up there
in West China ! Three times he had to escape for
his life in any kind of rafts or boats that he could
get to take him down the river. Sometimes the
wretches were determined to put him ashore ; and
he had to save himself, and those with him, by
guiding the boat himself. Once they would all
have been killed if he had not fired off a rifle,
which he happened to have with him, because he
had just brought it out from America to give to a
Chinese friend who wanted one. I tell you he 's a
hero, if there ever was one. The other one, too,
is just as brave, I suppose, only he has n't been in
it so long. And they 're both going back by way
of Burma, not a bit afraid, though they take their
lives in their hands as they go !"

Mother Nind herself often had long talks with
the brave young fellows, who were as gentle and
winning in their ways as though they had never
been compelled to face a Chinese mob ; and when
she parted with them in Rangoon, it was, to her,
like parting with sons ; and to them like saying
" good-bye " to their mother.

CHAPTER XL
u,

''Thkrb are the golden
pagodas of Burma!" said Mother
Nind. The Uttle missionary had
just come on deck, to find their
steamer slowly approaching Rangoon.

"What kind of money is used in Rangoon?"
was the business-like question of an American pas-
senger near by.

They knew the answer, for Captain Withers
had already posted them ; and the little missionary
had written in her pocket memorandum :

I rupee = i6 annas.
I anna = 4 pice.

" There are two-anna pieces, four-anna pieces,
and eight-anna pieces," he had further explained.
" Four annas will do for the coolies who take your
luggage ashore, and eight annas for your gari."

Soon they were giving this address to a gari
driver, through an officer who was going ashore
and so kindly volunteered to interpret :

Rev. JU1.1US Smith,

19 Ivancaster Road.

Yes, he knew the place ; and off he went. But
he could not have known it ; for after a little, he
stopped in front of a photograph gallery, called out
some one who could speak English, asked again for

215

2i6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

the address, and drove on. After awhile, they en-
tered lyan caster Road. "You look on that side of
the street for No. 19, and I will on this," said
Mother Nind. They drove to the end of the street,
but had not found it. The driver turned back.
He hailed a passer-by, and inquired again. Soon
he stopped in front of a house, and the little mis-
sionary got out. " Does the Rev. Julius Smith live
here?" she asked. The servant ushered her into
the drawing-room, where she waited for the lady
of the house to dress and come down. " This is
the wrong Smith," she said. " Rev. Julius Smith
lives over there."

At last they drove, not in front, or up to, the
house of the Rev. Julius Smith, but M7ider his resi-
dence. There it was above them, with plenty of
room beneath for a driveway, a playground, and a
carriage-house. It gave them a curious sensation
to get out of the carriage on the ground-floor of
the house, and at the foot of the hall stairs. But
they had made no mistake this time ; for a cheery
welcome was floating down the stairs, and the Rev.
Julius Smith himself coming in sight.

Mrs. Smith, they soon learned, was ill in bed ;
but her warm-hearted hospitality would not allow
them to go elsewhere for entertainment, or their
visit to be marred in any way by her sickness.
That evening they were taken for a drive in a tu7n-
tum, after a little pony about the size of the Sin-
gapore ponies. This tum-tum was an open dog-
cart with an extra seat, whose occupants were

IN BURMA. 217

required to sit with their backs toward those in
the front seat. Their companion was a missionary
daughter, who wore the simple gray dress with
which they had become familiar in Singapore — the
deaconess costume adopted by the Methodist
Church in India and Malaysia. After talking with
Mother Nind about the work for a while, suddenly
she turned upon the little missionary : " There are
sixty languages spoken in Rangoon ! Which one
of these shall we learn?" she asked.

Evidently she did not expect an immediate an-
swer; for she soon remarked, in a lighter strain : *'One
of our visitors recently called this 'the prettiest
drive in the world.' " They were going through
an avenue bordered by shade-trees, over one of the
smooth, good roads, which the English know so
well how to make. The moon was up, enhancing
them with flickering lights and shadows. Strains
of music filled the air; for they were nearing the
public gardens, where an English band played
every evening. Soon the band-stand came in sight,
and a number of people, apparently English and
American, were strolling about the grounds. As
they turned from them to the other side of the
driveway, they saw the moon reflecting its bright-
ness from the surface of a clear, beautiful lake ; and
the little missionary remembered what some one
in Singapore had said to her: "There are three
sights in Rangoon — the pagoda, the elephants, and
the lakes."

In the morning, after the early tea and toast,

2l8 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

their host got out the tu7n-tum again to take them
to the great pagoda, called the " Sway Dagon," or
" Glorious Golden" pagoda.

There were four entrances ; but they naturally
chose the most imposing, guarded by two colossal
stone lions, and began at once the ascent of the
two hundred and fifty-one steps leading to the ele-
vation on which the pagoda had been erected. The
way was bordered by booths for the sale of flowers
and other offerings to the gods. The fingerless
hands of lepers were extended for alms, exciting
in the little missionary's mind, she was sorry to dis-
cover, not the compassion which the Savior had for
such, but a feeling of intense loathing and disgust.

At last they had passed the long line of beggars
and of those that bought and sold, and were among
the worshipers on the broad stone pavement that
surrounded the golden pagoda. How different from
the pagodas of China and Japan, which were built
of wood, and could be entered and even ascended !
This was a solid mass of brick and earth, covered
only with gold. They differed in shape also, the
former being square and scarcely smaller at the top
than at the bottom; while the latter was round,
tapering to a slender spire at the top. No pagoda
they had seen before could equal this in size, in
height, in imposing grandeur. The base w^as orna-
mented throughout its entire circumference by
smaller pagodas, grotesque images, and kneeling
elephants in stone, forever paying their silent
adoration to the Great Pagoda.

IN BURMA. 219

'' They have to keep renewing the gold-leaf,"
said Mr. Smith. " It peels off, and grows dull and
dingy after a time. Do you see that bright band
up there? That has been put on recently. The
gold-leaf is sold at the entrance to worshipers,
who present it as their offering to the pagoda ; and
in that way it is kept in repair. I want you to no-
tice what looks like an umbrella near the top. That
is jeweled, and is worth thousands of dollars."

On the same level with the Great Pagoda was a
circular labyrinth of inferior pagodas and shrines.
The shrines were literally storehouses for gods of
all sizes and many different materials, but each
bearing the placid, smiling face of Gautama, the
founder of Buddhism. The posture, too, with one
exception, was the old, familiar one, with legs
crossed in front; but not sitting on a lotus-blossom,
as in Japan. There was one reclining Buddha,
thirty feet in length, attended by stone priests, that
there might always be some who were never be-
trayed into negligence in his worship. A large
mango-tree was surrounded by shrines, which were
ever cracking and needing to be rebuilt as the tree
expanded. Some of the wood-carving was finely
wrought, one piece especially arousing the admira-
tion and wonder of the visitors. It was a door-
way; and among the flowers and leaves, which
formed a graceful border, several bullock carts
were carved, so perfect and real in appearance
that they seemed quite ready to descend and go
about their work of drayage. The bells used in

220 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

worship were very large, each occupying a special
shrine, and of a full, rich tone, which, if Gautama
could not hear, must delight the worshipers to pro-
duce.

" I. can tell you a story about this one," said Mr.
Smith. "When the English conquered Burma,
they took possession of this bell, intending to trans-
port it to England; but in shipping it, through
some carelessness, it dropped into the sea. A noted
engineer was sent for, and came all the way from
England to raise the bell; but his best and most
scientific efforts failed to get ' Humpty Dumpty ' up
again. Then the Burmans presented themselves be-
fore the English ofiicials, and asked if they might
try to raise the bell, and, should they succeed, if
it might be theirs again. Permission was readily
given ; and with their rude native contrivances
they accomplished what the famous engineer had
given up as impossible. And now here it is in its
old place by the Great Pagoda?"

They had nearly made the circuit, and stopped
to watch the worshipers who were kneeling on the
stones before the pagoda, with heads bowed and
hands clasped in prayer. Priests with shaven heads,
and dressed in loose garments of yellow silk, were
here and there still engaged in eating their morning
rice. Busy workmen were employed in making
more idols. "Gods many, and lords many," invol-
untarily quoted Mother Nind. " Were it not for the
promise that the idols shall all be destroyed, upon
what could we pin our faithjn the ultimate triumph

IN BURMA. 221

of Christianity?" That night she wrote in her
note-book, in her comprehensive style: "Grounds
covered with shrines and Buddha in various sizes
and postures, hundreds of them — brass, stone,
gold, silver, glass, bejeweled — with beds for him
to sleep on, couches to recline on, umbrellas to
shield him from the sun, chairs on which to sit,
curtains even of netting to protect him from mos-
quitoes !" As they descended the long flight of
steps by which they had entered, they heard mu-
sic. Soon they saw the musicians, who were play-
ing on cymbals and other more curious instru-
ments, some of which were manipulated with both
fingers and toes. They were mourning the death
of a nun, whose body lay in a coffin near them.

On the drive home, the little missionary, who
sat on the back seat, found herself all at once high
in the air. She looked around, to see Mother Nind
and their host equally low. The little Burmese
pony had stumbled and was rolling about on the
ground in his harness. He succeeded in breaking
it, compelling them to walk the rest of the way,
and thus they had a little more of the freshness
and sweetness of the morning air between their
last sight of the lepers and breakfast.

Soon after breakfast they were whirled off again
in a closed gari, for it would not do to go out in
the tum-tum when the sun was up so high. They
stopped in front of a school-building. It had a
respectable air on the outside, but proved to be old
and decayed within. Its four walls included a large

2 22 IN JO URNE YINGS OFT.

day-school, with boarding and kindergarten depart-
ments, an orphanage, and homes for the workers in
charge of these institutions. So far as the trans-
mission of sound was concerned, all the rooms
were made as nearly one as possible by numberless
ventilators, transoms, and low screens serving as
doors. One of the missionaries aptly remarked :
"The houses here are made for air, and not for
prayer. I have no place where I can go to pray,
except the bath-room."

The children in the school and orphanage were
mostly of English and Eurasian parentage, and
looked frail and delicate, like those in Singapore.

In the kindergarten department they met a na-
tive of Ceylon, who was in training for work in
Singapore. She was the child of Christian par-
ents, who had given her the name of lyaura, which
sounded queerly enough with the family name,
Gunatilaka. As she spoke modestly of her plans,
her big black eyes and brown face shone with the
earnest purpose which later generations of con-
verts are sure, more and more, to conceive and
accomplish.

They were invited to stay and see some of the
kindergarten songs and plays. " How well they
do !" remarked the little missionary. " Where did
you learn kindergarten?" she questioned Miss W.,
who had charge of this also, as a part of her big
day and boarding school.

" I had a few days at Chautauqua. The rest I
havelearned from books and magazines, "she replied.

IN BURMA. 223

Mother Nind's questions were pertinent as ever:

"What is your greatest need?"

"Teachers who can teach."

" Do your girls get converted?"

"The boarders do."

They could not leave without stepping into the
little Burmese school next door. As a souvenir
of this visit, they each received a favorite hymn,
penned by one of the pupils in the beautiful cir-
cles which constitute the Burmese alphabet.

In the evening there was a prayer-meeting in
the English church. (The word English here,
as in India and Malaysia, does not imply that it
belonged to the Church of England; but is used
to distinguish the Churches that have services in
English, from those where the preaching is in the
vernacular.)

The prayer-meeting was preceded by a teachers'
meeting, a model for fine questioning and thought-
ful answering, but greatly disturbed at the begin-
ning by a company of mourning musicians across
the street. One of the teachers slipped out, and
soon the music ceased, not to continue again until
the people began to pour out of the church from
prayer-meeting. It was a curious prayer-meeting
assembly. There were men and women, such as
one usually sees in a prayer-meeting; the school
had come in a body, even little ones from the or-
phanage ; and there were a number of British sol-
diers. It was the last of November, the beginning
of winter in other lands, and of what is called

2 24 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

"the cool season" in Burma; still the night was
warm ; doors and windows were wide open, and a
man stood outside pulling great punkahs further to
fan the breeze, until even Mother Nind was con-
vinced that the members of this Church would not
fall asleep for lack of ventilation.

There were yet two days before their return to
the steamer ; so their host proposed a trip by rail
to Pegu, a town in the interior, where a mission
had recently been opened through the benevolence
of a single Church in the home-land. It was a
long time since Mother Nind had been on a rail-
way train ; so the sight of a locomotive again could
not fail to give her a sense of satisfaction. But
how somber and unfamiliar the coaches looked,
with their windows protected, in Indian fashion,
by a deep hood or awning, to keep out the sun !
They had their tickets, and essayed to enter, but
were stopped by the guard :

" This is the ladies' department, and the gentle-
man can not go in," he said.

"Then we '11 go with him," said Mother Nind.

But this did not please the guard. The ladies
should stay there, and only the gentleman go in
the other compartment.

" But we want to be together, so that he can
show us the country," protested the ladies.

After a little, quite reluctantly he allowed all
to go in the next compartment. lyike the other,
it was small, with room only for a few passengers
besides themselves. One of these was a young

IN BURMA. 225

man, dressed in silk, in the simple Burmese style,
but speaking English so well that they suspected
him of some years of student-life in a mission
school. He conversed readily and with evident
pleasure, until reference was made to the worship
seen the day before at the pagoda. Then he looked
embarrassed ; said he did not want to argue ; that
his ancestors all went twice a month to worship
at the pagoda, and he was content to do the
same. But he did not seem contented, and soon
slipped away from a companionship suddenly
grown uncongenial, into the friendly retreat of a
neighboring compartment.

At the station in Pegu they were met by the
resident missionary with his tiun-tum and a hired
gari. The visitors were put in the gari, and had
gone but a little way when they were invited to
"stop and see something interesting." Under a
temporary booth, affording slight shelter from the
sun, a great company of people were sitting, or,
rather, squatting on the ground, each with a bowl
in one hand and a spoon in the other, eating dain-
ties made of rice mixed with various mysterious
condiments. "This feast has been going on all the
morning. It is given to celebrate the consecration
of a young man, who is still in his teens, to the
priesthood. I was over here earlier, and saw the
gifts presented by his family to the priests. One
of them was a set of English encyclopaedia, which
I would like myself, and they were all valuable.
And his priesthood may end in a month's time !

15

226 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

That 's the way they do in Burma — seem to think
it 's the proper thing to consecrate every young
man to be a priest ; and then he can stay one or
not, as he likes."

This explanation was given hurriedly and in
bits, as they got out of the gari, looked around on
the feasting assemblage, and were helped in again.
Their next .stop was at the foot of a hill, on which
stood a simple, new cottage, with the fairest of
pictures framed in its plain doorway. A young
woman, dressed in white, bore in her arms a
pretty child, the faces of both shining with pleas-
ure in this welcome to the one they knew and
loved best, with their new friends whom he was
bringing to their isolated home. All the way up
the path in the hot sun this picture charmed them,
and they almost feared it would vanish with the
first greetings. It did vanish, but only to appear
again in other graceful scenes, as the fair young
hostess offered "Grandma" (for her big German
husband would call Mother Nind by no other
name) the simple comforts of her little home. All
the journey and sight-seeing of the morning had
been accomplished without other breakfast than
the early tea and toast ; and it was high noon when
they sat down to what seemed so improperly desig-
nated the breakfast-table. In " Grandma's " pres-
ence conversation drifted into home channels.
" Do n't we wish our mother could come to see
us?" their i host said to his wife; and then he
told a story : " There are just ten children in E^lla's

IN BURMA. 227

family. One Sunday their minister preached a ser-
mon on tithe-giving, which must have made a great
impression on the youngest; for when he got
home he said: ' Mamma, we have given just our
tenth, have n't we ? For there are ten of us, and
one has gone to be a missionary.'"

Soon after breakfast Mother Nind retired for
her afternoon nap ; but the little missionary could
not resist the temptation, hot as it was, to ride in
the tum-tum, and see a little more of a real Bur-
mese village. The houses were so queer, built up
high in the air; and were less substantial even
than the famous "paper houses" of Japan. Just
a few bamboo poles and strips of matting — a shel-
ter from the sun, with plenty of air, and no at-
tempt at privacy ! She could look freely into
every home they passed, and see the men idly
sleeping- away the hot hours of the day, while the
women were busy with their sewing and weaving.
"That is always the way here," said her compan-
ion. " The women do all the work, and the men
do nothing. I get thoroughly out of patience with
them, they are such a lazy set." Just then the little
missionary saw a man stop at ajar by the roadside,
help himself to a drink, and pass on. She looked
up questioningly, and he replied : " Some man here
in Pegu keeps that jar filled with water all the time,
as one way of winning the favor of the gods."
" Not a bad way of winning men's favor, it
seemed, on such a hot day, in such a hot
country !"

228 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

When Mother Nind came down from her nap
she found some strange little guests waiting to see
her. They were the pupils of the Burmese day-
school. "Would she like to hear them sing?"
"Yes, of course," she replied; and they sang
for her the same sweet child-song which she had
herself learned in Knglish, and had so often since
heard in Japanese, in Chinese, in Malay, and even
in Tamil. Everywhere she went they sang that
first, as if they knew and loved it ; and surely the
gospel could not come to them first in a better
way than through the medium of

"Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so."

As the missionary's wife watched the dark, shin-
ing faces of the little singers, her own assumed a
beatific expression, and she remarked in a whisper,
"Aren't they lovely?" The little missionary
smiled. She had not thought of calling these chil-
dren lovely ; but she knew others, with just as
queer faces and curious dress, to whom she would
have applied that expression. " It must be," she
concluded, " that we missionaries have the real
mother-love, and so each thinks our own crows the
whitest."

"Are these all boys, or all girls?" she asked,
when they had finished. " They seem to be dressed
just alike."

" O no ! There's a difference," said Mr. vS. ; and
he called one of the boys forward. His dress con-

>

P

O

XI

o

c

IN BURMA. 23t

sisted of two pieces; a short, plain jacket, and a
straight piece of cloth tucked around the waist for
a skirt.

" Dress yourself like a little girl," was the order
given. Carefully he pulled out one corner of his
skirt and brought it over smoothly and a little to
one side, letting the end hang plain.

" Now like a boy again !"

Out came the corner of the skirt once more, to
be tucked in its old place, which made the end fall
in a deep flounce or ruffle directly in front.

'' So it 's the women who do the work, and the
men who wear the ruffles in Burma !" commented
the visitors.

As soon as the children was gone, the tum-tum
and gari were brought aroundj and all went out
to see the school that had been opened for Tamil
boys and girls. As a means of greater entertain-
ment the order of exercises was varied at once
by singing. Mr. S. remarked:

" I think Tamil must have been the first lan-
guage God created in his fierce wrath at the Tower
of Babel, the sounds are so harsh and difiicult to
distinguish."

Next an English class was called up, and some
of the larger boys were asked to read. These
dusky children of the tropics seemed to appreciate
their varied accomplishments, and read eagerly,
one after another, parts of the famous story of
the "boy George, who received a present of a
small ax from his father," etc. "Why doesn't

232 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

it give his full name?" wondered the little mis-
sionary, until she looked at the title-page and dis-
covered that it was an Knglish publication.

The most interesting of all the exercises was
a native drill in calisthenics. Bach child bran-
dished two bamboo .sticks, striking one, then the
other, then both together against his neighbor's,
swinging around with a jump, and a song, and a
dance, all rolling the whites of their eyes in en-
thusiastic delight, and continuing their weird move-
ments for some time after the master had ordered
a halt.

In the evening Mother Nind was asked to talk
to the servants as they were gathered together for
evening prayers. Her interpreted words were fol-
lowed by prayers in Tamil, Burmese, and, out of
courtesy to her, in Knglish also.

There was one "sight" still awaiting them in
Rangoon, which their friends would not allow them
to miss. So good-bye to the little mission home
and work in Pegu ; and in Rangoon once more on
the way to McGregor & Co.'s lumber-yard.

They stopped first at the home of one whom
Miss P. admiringly called "the biggest elephant of
them all," dear Father Bray ton, pioneer of the Bap-
tist Mission to the Karens, and in his earlier years
companion of the sainted Judson. He was then
eighty-seven years old; and though he had given
over half a century of his life to the work, much
of it done in the jungles, he was still in " the
springtime of old age," as Mother Nind called it.

IN BURMA. 233

She asked for his autograph, and he stepped
briskly across the floor to his desk in the next
room. When he returned, he inquired in a sweet,
gentle way, "How long have you been following
the Master?"

"Sixty-five years," she replied.

"And I about seventy," he said.

For the little missionary's benefit, he gave
some of his earlier experiences. "When my wife
and I made our first trip up the river, crowds of
people thronged the shores, and gathered about
our boat whenever we stopped. This pleased us
very much ; but we thought it best not to ' write
it up ' until we had made one more trip. The
next time scarcely any came. Their curiosity had
been satisfied, and they cared nothing for our mes-
sage."

Reference was made to his translation of the
Bible; and he told how, as real success came to
them in their trips up the river, he commenced
this work; but for a long time he was unable to
complete it, as he endeavored also to keep to his
original plan of spending the whole of every dry
season in the jungle, with his wife, in evangelistic
work.

At last a company of native Christians came to
him, and pleaded with him to finish the Bible. " If
you do not finish it," they said, "we shall not have
it at all; for it will take a new missionary too long
to get the language to do it while we live. Please
give us the Bible before we die."

234 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Just then an attack of rheumatism made it un-
wise for him to return to jungle work; so he com-
plied with their request and gave them the Bible.

When the call was over, he politely offered his
arm to Mother Nind, escorting her down the stairs
to the waiting carriage beneath.

The afternoon was drawing to a close as they
reached the lumber-yard; but the elephants were
still at work. Quietly and with the real dignity
born of labor, they were moving about the yard ;
the strongest, wisest, and best workmen were
there. No log was too heavy for them to drag
with their trunks; no plank was too thick or too
long for them to lift into the air, gently poising
it against their tusks until they had reached the
pile where it belonged. And when it came down
with a crash, no pains were spared in deftly push-
ing it this way and that, until the pile was left in
perfect neatness and good order.

Their movements were watched with intense
interest and admiration, and the visitors went
away, no longer wondering that such patient in-
dustry should be considered one of the "sights"
of the city.

It was Saturday night ; and much to their re-
gret, they had to return to their steamer, and spend
the Sabbath at sea. Among others to see them
oflF were the West China missionaries, who had
good news to report. At a little meeting which
they had addressed in a Burmese Church, the peo-
ple were so stirred by what they heard that they

IN BURMA. 235

voted to give all the money in their treasury, about
forty rupees, to the West China work.

This was a revelation of the budding possibil
ities of a Christianized Burma. In a land so rich
in natural resources, and among a people so gener-
ous, when at last the funeral dirge of heathenism
is tolled, and the golden pagodas remain only as
monuments to mark the burial, the light from the
Christian spires will be shining out into all the re-
gions beyofid.

CHAPTER XII.

It was their second Sab-
bath on the Li7idula. Mother
Nind had a book of sermons
with her, so she read one to
the little missionary ; then the little missionary
read one to her. That was their morning service.
For their evening service they recited Scripture
verses, each successive one beginning with the first
letter of the last word of the preceding verse.
The wonderful texts lost none of their significance
in tlie little game, but seemed clothed with fresh
grandeur, quoted under the " lesser light that rules
the night," as it shone over the still waters of the
Indiau Ocean.

There were two or three days more of the " still
waters ;" then for three months they must exchange
this quiet, restful sea-travel for the dirt and con-
fusion and fatigue of railway journeys ! As they
thought of it, they felt loath to leave the sea, and
lingered over each setting sun until its fiery splen-
dor slowly faded from the last cloud ; then down to
236

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 237

dinner, and back to watch the moonlight, as though
these glorious friends, also, would vanish with the
sea.

They knew their steamer would make no delay,
for she carried mail, and Captain Withers had told
them what large subsidy she would forfeit if she
failed to appear at the dock in Calcutta by such an
hour on such a day. According to schedule time,
on the fourth day out from Rangoon, vShe entered
the Hoogly River. Her speed slackened, for this
was the most dangerous part of her course. Al-
ready they could see rising above the water the
two tall masts of the Anglia, which had been the
last of the many unfortunate steamers to be en-
tangled in the shifting sands of the treacherous
stream.

" Most of her passengers were drowned just like
rats in a hole," said the captain. ''Their cabins
filled with water, and the ports were too small for
them to climb out. One man swam through the
saloon to the deck, and was saved that way ; but
the rest were drowned."

After this story, what fascination rested in those
slender, motionless masts ! What warning for other
ships ! A little carelessness would make every
mast like these ; so who, out of port, could call him-
self safe?

There was delaj^ at the landing in getting their
trunks from the hold ; and the day was fast turn-
ing into night when at last their luggage was all
secured on the tops of two garis, and they were in-

238 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

side, Mother Nind in one and the little missionary
in the other, on the way to Dharamtala.*

They went first to the bishop's home, but no
one was there to receive them ; then to the Dea-
coness Home. After some searching, they found
all of their Methodist friends together on the Com-
pound of the Girls' School, enjoying a stereopticon
entertainment. The views were of Scotland, and
though it was difficult to journey to a land so re-
mote upon their first arrival in India, they did, at
least, enjoy the novelty of an open-air entertain-
ment on an evening in December. Soon after the
last picture was shown. Mother Nind said " good-
night" to the little missionary ; for she was to be
entertained at what she afterwards delighted to call
"the simplest episcopal residence she had ever
seen," while the latter was to remain in the Dea-
coness Home.

" Have you had dinner?" hospitably inquired
the superintendent of the Home.

The little missionary confessed that a cup of
tea and an English biscuit, taken before leaving the
steamer, were the only approach she had made to a
dinner.

" Then I must try to find something a little
more substantial for you than the rest of us have,"
said Miss M. A number of people had been in-,
vited to the Home for the late tea, which consisted
of bread already buttered and a cup of tea.

"*■ Name of a street in Calcutta.

liTRST DAYS IN INDIA. 239

The search for something " substantial " resulted
in finding one &^g and a little jam. " It 's a wonder
I found as much as that," she said. ''Our cook
buys each morning just enough for the one day,
and so we never have anything left over."

Mother Nind had scarcely given herself one
night's sleep in Calcutta when she began to make
plans to regulate her first few weeks in India. She
engaged the bishop's wife and others in consulta-
tion ; for, as she said, " I want to do what you think
best. Wherever I go I put myself in the mission-
aries' hands ; for they certainly know a great deal
better than I what I ought to undertake in these
Oriental countries."

One week was reserved for Calcutta. It began
with a prayer-meeting in what was known, even on
the ships in the harbor, as " Bishop Thoburn's
Church." The Sunday congregations averaged
five hundred in the morning, and a thousand in the
evening ; and the prayer-meeting had an attendance
of about three hundred. It was an English-speak-
ing congregation ; so Mother Nind could speak
without an " interrupter," as some one has called
the needful interpreter. During the singing of the
opening hymns the church filled with smoke. The
little missionary looked around in concern. But
every one was singing calmly, as if nothing were
the matter. She tried to follow their example ;
but the smoke choked her, and she knew the fires
must be increasing. If no one else would give the
alarm, she must.

240 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

''What makes all this smoke?" she whispered
to Miss M.

"O, it 's just the evening fires of the people.
The moisture keeps the smoke down," was the reply.
'The little missionar}^ had seen some of their
fuel in a drive about the city that day. The " City
of Palaces," she had found, contained more hovels
than mansions. Often, under the shadow of grand,
imposing English residences, she had seen rows of
low mud huts, plastered over with cakes of manure,
drying in the sun, and, down in the road, women
and children gathering a fresh supply of the strange
fuel with their fingers. And now, as they were
using it to cook the evening meal, the air of the
city was filled with the foul smoke. " What a trial
it must be!" she thought.

After the prayer-meeting, quite a large company
was invited to an informal tea at the Deaconess
Home. This tea, following meetings at the church,
was a regular institution, the newcomers were in-
formed. It was the social net for catching stran-
gers, and enabled the workers to draw more closely
the influences of the meeting about many a poor
prodigal thus brought within their reach. Often
the tea became another prayer-meeting, as some
wanderer, encouraged by friendly words, asked
the prayers of God's people to aid him in leading
a new life. The teas were not always at the Dea-
coness Home; but they alternated, sometimes at
the parsonage, and often at the bishop's residence.

Mother Nind spoke not only at the prayer-

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 24 1

meeting, but also, on Sunday, at both morning and
evening services. For the first time in her travels
in the East the woman-preacher was severely crit-
icised b}^ some that were outside, who expressed
their comments through the medium of the morn-
ing paper. After preaching many times to Jap-
anese and Chinese audiences, it remained for her
own countrymen to quote St. Paul at length, and
declare that she ought not to have been admitted
to the pulpit. Only one woman before had been
in a position to call forth such criticisms from the
Calcutta press, and who was that other but her old
friend, Amanda Smith?

Holiday vacation, which was the long one in
the Calcutta schools, was approaching; conse-
quently there were invitations for our travelers to
the various annual exercises occurring before the
close. First came the literary contest in the Girls'
School, which was so able that every contestant
seemed worthy of a prize. At the Prize Exhibi-
tion, which followed a few days later, gifts were
bestowed upon the best pupils in all the grades of
both this school and its large, growing offshoot at
Darjeeling. So attractive were many of the prizes,
which included dolls and trinkets for the younger
ones, that it seemed quite like ChrivStmas itself;
and was, they were told, the nearest approach to a
Christmas celebration in either of these large
schools. The Darjeeling school had closed for a
three months' vacation, which would cover the en-
tire "cold season."

x6

242 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

' That is queer," said the little missionary.
"Why don't you teach during the cool weather,
and have your vacation when it gets hot?"

"O, Darjeeling is a hill station, so it's always
cool there; and this is the only time in the year
when the children can really enjoy their Calcutta
homes," was the reply.

Both schools were boarding-schools. "We
have a hard time getting our scholarships taken in
America," said one of the missionaries. " It costs
so much more to support these girls than it does
the natives; and then every one seems to think
t/tat the real missionary work, while this does not
count. But I am sure it does count; for some of
the girls who go out from our school make our
best workers, and most of them do go out to work."
They accompanied her in a call at the home of one of
the very poor Eurasian girls in the school. The fam-
ily lived up-stairs in two small rooms, with scarcely
chairs enough to offer the three callers. The father
was out of work, and she was doing without a serv-
ant, which made living up-stairs very hard for her,
were the chief facts they learned from the mother,
who seemed to regard a servant as the great neces-
sity of life.

" Even the poorest of those who have a little
English blood in their veins think they must keep
one or two servants. It is very hard for our girls
to be brought up in such a dependent way," said
their companion, as they drove away with this new
picture of poverty in their minds.

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 243

The boys' school for English-speaking students
presented a similar problem of aristocratic, though
dependent feeling. In the management of the
school this feeling had been gratified to the extent
of classifying the boarders; those who could pay
little or nothing for their board, receiving less and
called second-class boarders ; while those who could
pay more, received better fare and were placed in
the first-class. The scholarship boys, of course, were
all in the second-class. One who was supported
by private subscription suddenly became the re-
cipient from home of an allowance, amounting to
several rupees. Saying nothing to his benefactor
of his good fortune, he paid the difference between
first and second-class board into the school treas-
ury, and was enrolled as a first-class boarder.

One of the missionaries who had gone out un-
der the Woman's Society had somehow been at-
tracted to the work of this school, and was en-
gaged in the stupendous task of "mothering" all
the boarders, investing their daily living, as far as
possible, with sweet home and religious influences.
She had the mother-instinct of self-denial, often
forgetting herself so completely as to be without the
necessary postage, even to send a letter to America.

A companion school for native boys was under-
going another kind of " hard times," as a favorite
teacher was drawing many of the students away
into a new school of his own.

The Bengali work for girls and women was in
charge of one who, in addition to her busy cares as

244 IN JO URNE YINGS OFT.

a wife and mother, gave enthusiastic, devoted at-
tention to a large girls' school with a new boarding
department, a normal training-class, and her ze-
nana visiting. This school presented fresh novel-
ties in dress and manners to the eyes of Mother
Nind and the little missionary. The latter once
asked a Calcutta missionary, who was seeking
health and strength in Japan, if she had an Indian
costume with her. "Why, it's only a strip of
cloth," she replied. Here was the strip of cloth,
the long, graceful sari, wound around the waist
first for a skirt, then thrown over the head like a
shawl or veil. Much the same kind of jewelry was
worn as they had seen on the Tamils, who were
also natives of India — nose-rings, ear-ring, neck-
laces, bracelets, anklets, etc. Just at the parting
of the hair on the foreheads of some of the girls
was a bright red spot. "That shows that they are
married," said Mrs. I^. Such little maidens to be
wives — of nine, eleven ; surely the oldest could not
be thirteen ! "I have myself known wives to be
widowed at eleven," said Mrs. ly. again.

The zenana women had a very low opinion of
the little missionary when they learned that she
had not been married. "Poor thing!" they said
pityingly. "She can not get a hUvSband!" Mother
Nind satisfied them better as a visitor; for they
could say to her, as they did to Mrs. L- : "You are
just like us. You have a husband and children, so
you can understand us, and we can understand you."

One of the deaconesses had a little Hindustani

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 245

school, which presented a fine picture of missionary
beginnings. The building was a small hut, made
of mud, with two or three openings left for win-
dows. The only furniture it contained was one
chair for the teacher; and a tin box held all the
books and apparatus used in her work. The chil-
dren sat on the floor, their black knees and toes
sticking out in every direction. Their hair was un-
combed, their bodies half clad, great hoops hung
from their noses; and altogether they hardly
looked like pupils of the fair-faced figure above
them in her neat, gray dress and white apron. But
no teacher in large, airy school-room, with slate
blackboards, beautifully polished desks, and per-
haps a piano, could look happier than she. With a
hand laid tenderly on the black shoulder of a child
just recovering from fever, and a look of love and
pity for all, she stooped to their level, and taught
them, patiently and simply, for Jesus' sake.

The visitors were fortunate in having an oppor-
tunity to attend the monthly Conference for mis-
sionaries of all denominations at work in Calcutta.
It was the Methodists' " turn " to entertain, which
means that they provided a meeting-place, also
light refreshments to serve at the close of the Con-
ference. The address was given by a convert from
Brahmanism, who had belonged to the famous or-
der of the " scarlet thread."

His subject was " The Trend of Modern Relig-
ious Thought Among the Higher Classes of India."
It was an able lecture, delivered in faultless Kng-

246 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

lish; and while it dealt with philosophies which
few of the missionaries present felt prepared to
discuss, it encouraged them by showing the influ-
ence of Christianit}^ upon the exponents of other
religions. He had with him an " Imitation of
Krishna," arranged with portions for every day's
reading and meditation ; but the vague, dreamy
speculations which he read as the verses for the
day, showed that only form had been copied; that
the spirit of the living religion could not vivify a
dead one — it must displace it.

One of the most helpful meetings of the week
was a Saturday morning "believers' meeting." It
might quite as well have been called the " doers' "
meeting; for it was attended mostly by workers,
some of whom were so busy with work in the vernac-
ular that they had time for no other English service.
Mother Nind was so busy helping in the various
meetings that the little missionary had to go with-
out her on an excursion to Serampore, where Carey
first found a " cradle for Indian missions," under
the protection of the Danish Government. The
"Black Hole" remained unvisited by either. But
one morning early they were ready for a drive to
the " Gardens " across the river. After a little delay
waiting for the gari, it came ; a basket containing
their breakfast was placed inside, and they started.
Through the city streets, already alive with tur-
baned heads and bare feet; across the pontoon
bridge, the longest in the world, some one said;
rattling along a weary, dusty road, as the main av-

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 247

enue was closed for repairs, — at last they came to
the "Gardens."

" Nothing looks well now, it is so dry," was the
apologetic introduction of their friends. But, even
with the memory of Singapore fresh in their minds,
they knew nothing that could exceed the majesty
and beauty of the wonderful avenue of royal
African palms, which was just then opening before
them. A little later they were out of the gari,
walking toward the special object of their visit.
It looked like a forest containing hundreds of trees.
How difficult it was to believe that they all started
from one trunk ! Still they could see it was not a
forest ; for though it rose from level ground, it was
pyramidal in form ; and, as they entered, they could
trace the great branches that went out from the
central stem to form the first circuit of trees, and
from these to form others. At the outermost circle,
man's art had evidently been engaged in the work
of rooting fresh branches in the ground, thus in-
creasing the size of what was already known as
"the largest banyan-tree in the world." "Almost
every one walks around the tree to see how long
it takes. It is usually called a seven minutes'
walk," they were told. So Mother Nind and the
little missionary started out, with watches in hand.
They walked briskly at Mother Nind's best pace, and
found they could do it in three minutes. Then, in
the shade of the great tree, which might easily have
sheltered a whole summer school or camp-meeting,
they breakfasted on plantains and sandwiches.

248 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Another morning, just after choti hazri (the httle
breakfast), they drove to "Kali Ghat," a bathing-
place on the Hoogly, named for Kali, the patron
deity of Calcutta. It was one place in India where
animal sacrifices were still offered, and they came
hoping to see the morning sacrifice ; but were told
upon arrival that it was not quite ready. During
the waiting time they walked about the temple
grounds, seeing sights that thrilled them more even
than the shedding of blood. With feet crossed
under them, some on the steps going up to the
temple, others on the ground, were a few of the
fakirs or " holy men," of whom they had so often
heard. Their hair lay in matted, brown tangles,
showing years of neglect ; their clothing was in
rags ; their nails were claws ; their faces wore a
miserable, unhappy expression, which led Mother
Nind to exclaim, " They look anything but holy!"
Not far away was a group of lepers. Here one of
the party tarried to drop a little money in each
poor mutilated palm, saying compassionately, *^ I
never can refuse to give these something."

Passing many other afflicted ones — the blind, the
halt, the poor, the aged — they came to the "sacred
well." It was surrounded by women, who were
engaged in such unwomanly worship that the ob-
servers soon turned aside, speaking to each other
only in low, hushed tones of what they had seen.
As the sacrifice was still not ready, they asked
the priest if they might look at the image of the
goddess.

-: FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 249

At once such a stormy altercation ensued that
they would have ended it by leaving. But Mr. W.
urged them to remain, saying that it was some-
thing they ought to vSee ; so they waited. At last
the party who wished to show the idol triumphed,
and the doors were opened, disclosing a more hid-
eous image than any Mother Nind and the little
missionary had yet been horrified to behold. The
light was too dim for them to grasp the details ;
but it seemed to be bathed in blood, with a long,
blood-red tongue protruding from the mouth. They
had to trust to other observers for knowledge of
its black face; its four arms, one of them holding
a scimiter, the other grasping a giant's head by the
hair ; its ornaments consisting of the figures of dead
bodies for earrings and a chain of skulls for a neck-
lace. But they had seen enough to make them
anxious to get through the sacrifice, and away from
all these vile scenes.

"Why are you so late with your sacrifice?" in-
quired Mr. W. Several times before he had asked
this question, to receive always the answer that it
would be ready soon. Now they replied that they
could not offer the sacrifice unless Mr. W. would
pay for the sheep. The visitors hardly cared to see
sacrificing done to their own order; so they con-
tented themselves with a look at the block where
the animal was to have been offered, and went at
once to the river side. Standing at the top of the
long flight of steps leading to the water, they
watched the bathers. Some, more richly dressed

250 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

than the others, descended to the lowest step above
the water, washed their feet, and returned; but
others, after bathing their feet, their hands, their
heads, immersed themselves, washed their garments,
rinsed their mouths, and carried a vessel of the foul
water, which they called holy, away with them.

One woman stood out of the water, apparently
worshiping the sun ; but all at once she turned and
worshiped toward the south, then toward the west,
and at last to the north. " She thinks she '11 hit it
somewhere," said Mother Nind.

On their return, they stopped at a bank, and the
little missionary went in to draw some money. She
wished eight pounds ; but when they brought the
equivalent — one hundred and thirty-seven rupees,
each the size of a silver half-dollar — she thought
some one had made a mistake. Looking from the
pile to her purse, and from her purse to the pile,
at last she summoned courage to ask for a paper
or a strong envelope ; but they had already brought
her a red bag with a yellow string, and into this
she deposited the money ; then clutching it in her
hand she went into the street, miserably conscious
that every one must be looking at her and her bag
of money.

They were to start that night for Jubbulpur.
Every one travels at night in India, and yet there
are no sleeping-cars. When the little missionary
went to the bishop's home in the early evening to
see if Mother Nind was^ ready for the journey, she
found her "doing up" her shawl-strap, rolling in

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 25 1

with her shawl and pillows a blanket and light
comforter. " I forgot to tell you that you would
need bedding," said Miss M. to the little mission-
ary. *'You must have a resai [\ighX comforter],
too." The little missionary was not over-fond of
packages, and was dismayed to learn that she must
increase her hand-luggage by adding a comforter
thereto.

At the station she discovered that nobody in In-
dia traveled in the American way, with a neat, trim
valise and good, stout trunk ; but every one seemed
to have a great roll of bedding, and boxes, and bas-
kets, and bags, ad in^nitum. All these were tossed
into the passenger coaches, and after them light tin
trunks, until there was so little room left for the
passengers that they had a wedged-in appearance
as if they, too, were parcels. Mother Nind and
the little missionary, not knowing the ways of In-
dian travelers, asked to have their trunks checked ;
and though one was only a hat trunk and the other
a steamer trunk, both were over-weight, and re-
quired the payment of '' excess " charges. They
were to travel in the ladies' compartment of a sec-
ond-class carriage, the bishop's wife and her little
boy their only companions. As soon as they had
started, with the good-byes of their Calcutta friends
still ringing in their ears, they drew the shades,
spread the 7'esai on the seats for mattresses, and
over them the blankets and shawls for coverings,
thus preparing to spend as comfortable a night as
possible on a train without air-brakes, which shiv-

252 IN JOURNEVINGS OFT.

ered and seemed to be going down a thousand
embankments all at once every time it stopped.
It grew chilly toward morning; and, in hot,
hot India, they were glad to draw blankets and
shawls close about them to protect them from the
cold.

In the morning, station venders furnished them
with tea for their choti hazri; and at nine o'clock
they breakfasted from the big lunch-basket which
the bishop's wife had thoughtfully prepared. Early
in the afternoon they reached Allahabad, where
they had planned to break their journey by a rest
over Sunday. " Coolie hai !" called out their wel-
coming host, and soon their luggage was walked
off on the heads of tall, well-formed coolies to a
gari on the other side of the station.

"Our one guest-room is occupied by Miss B.,
of the Friends' Mission, who has been with us for
some months," he said, when they reached the
house. " But there is one vacant bed in that room;
and we have put up a tent in the yard, which is at
your disposal. So just arrange yourselves as you
please," he continued. I^ater, another guest ar-
rived, and promptly a second tent arose for his
accommodation, until the ground between the
home and church seemed quite like a piece of a
camp-meeting. The resemblance was still more
striking the next day, when the air was filled with
songs of praise. The church was used b}^ both
English and Hindustani congregations, and with
the Church and Sabbath-school services of each,

FIRST DAYS IN INDIA. 253

there was as little time when no meeting was in
progress as on any real camp -ground.

At one of the Hindustani services the preach-
ers, pastor-teachers, and Bible-readers present re-
ceived an informal introduction to Mother Nind,
which consisted in standing in their places as their
names were called. Then some of the children in
the boys' school were brought forward and intro-
duced as follows : " This child was found in a vil-
lage street the other day, almost starved to death."
It was not a time of widespread famine ; yet what
a thin, wan face ; what tiny, shrunken arms ! An-
other child was pushed to the front. " This child
was just like him a year ago, but see how fat and
plump he is now!" Then another: "This one
was a wild boy from the jungles. When he was
first brought to the school he would not wear
clothes, nor sleep on a bed." And still another:
"This boy was a little street Arab, who amused
himself at first by running away." "Do you want
to run away now?" he said to the child, who
promptly responded with a negative reply.

Then, at a word, all sang with might and main
the ringing bhajan, " Jai Prabhu Yishiu " (Victory
to Jesus), and Mother Nind left to prepare for the
evening service, where she rejoiced to see many
of her English congregation around the altar at an
after meeting, seeking the blessing of a " clean
heart."

CHAPTER XIII.

The Bombay Conference, which sat at Jubbul-
pur that year, was one of the younger Indian Con-
ferences. Its members were mostly missionaries ;
and so the business could be transacted in English
without interpretation. This made its sessions
more intelligible to Mother Nind than others she
had attended in the Hast. Though the Conference
was young, it contained members who had given,
some twenty, others thirty years to the service.
There w^as quite a break between these and the
younger men, who were, many of them, passing
254

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUCKNQW. 255

through their testing time, trying to prove to them-
selves and others that they had not undertaken a
task too great for them ; but that they could en-
dure the climate, master the language, understand
the people, overcome the difficulties, be tactful,
brave, and hopeful under all circumstances.

The Woman's Conference was quite informal,
most of its reports being given orally. lyike many
such, they were accompanied with alternate smiles
and tears. The Deaconess Movement had entered
the Conference during the year through one of its
opposers, who had, after a long, hard struggle,
joined this inner circle of consecrated workers, re-
nouncing half her salary, and donning uniform of
gray. Her sacrifice had brought another mission-
ar}^ to the field, and the two together were about
to engage in itinerating evangelistic work.

There was one cloud, heavy and dark, which
brooded over the entire Conference, marring its oth-
erwise bright, sunny sessions. It was not the clouc?
of failure ; it was not the cloud of coming famine.
It was a cloud that had been gathering for some
time in far away America, and had now seemed
ready to burst over their heads — the cloud of finan-
cial depression ! The bishop had been in the
States as usual, endeavoring to gather money for
the work; but he had no large collections, and only
a few special gifts to report. An increased appro-
priation for salaries of missionaries, allowed by
the Missionary Committtee, brought not a ray of
sunshine through the cloud ; for that meant a cor-

256 IN JOURNEYING S OFT.

responding decrease in the appropriation for native
workers. There was only one hope, a hope that
seemed fast approaching realization before the eyes
of the visitors. As the rains of adversity fell, they
would refresh the soil and make it more fruitful.
The greater the stringency, the more consecrated,
self-sacrificing, prayerful would the missionaries
become, and the less of a following would they
have for gain.

The members of the Conference and their
guests were entertained in three homes, one of
which was occupied for the occasion. Five times
each day they gathered around the table for the
little breakfast, the big breakfast, the tifi&n, the
dinner, and the tea. " Do n't tell any one how
many meals we have!" said the hostess, who re-
lembered her " bringing up," and felt ashamed of
these adopted Anglo-Indian customs.

" But you have only two meals a day," said the
little missionary. " The rest are just lunches."

''That 's so!" she said, with a relieved look.

The room, occupied by Mother Nind and the
little missionary, opened into the back veranda;
and every morning, as they looked out, they could
see a tall, heavily-turbaned man-servant engaged in
kis daily task of churning. His churn was a small
earthen jar, containing fresh buffalo's milk. A
bamboo stick, split at the lower end into four sec-
tions, served as a dasher, and was ingeniously
worked by means of a string attached to one of the
veranda posts. The butter was served as it came

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUC KNOW. 257

from the churn — a soft, white paste, with neither
the milk worked out nor salt worked in — and some
people liked it.

No sooner are the appointments read at a Con-
ference than people begin to hurry away. Mother
Nind's party was among the first to leave, as it in-
cluded the bishop this time ; and he was always
in a hurry. He was hastening now to reach Cal-
cutta before Christmas ; and was planning then to
have one whole week at home with his family.
They averaged not more than six weeks together
during the course of a year, his wife had said.

As they parted at Allahabad — for Mother Nind
and the little missionarj^ were to spend their
Christmas in Lucknow — they accepted the loan of
another blanket. Not only on the trains, but
wherever they went, they needed plenty of bed-
ding ; for the guest-rooms of most of the mission-
homes contained only empty charpoi (low, single
beds made of four bars of wood connected by
broad tapes, crossing and recrossing from side to
side and end to end, the whole set upon four short
legs, and making the cheapest of beds that can be
called comfortable). The " cold season" in India
was thus far an anomaly. In Jubbulpur the little
missionary had been obliged to buy flannels for
extra underclothing; and yet, at the same time,
she had purchased a broad sun-hat of pith, and put
a white cover on her umbrella, to keep off the sun.

Every one said that she must, that she would
get a " touch of the sun" if she did n't ; and ever

17

258 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

since she had been in India, if a gleam fell across
her face or shoulders, there was a sudden move-
ment to shut it out; and if it happened to fall
upon the back of her neck, there was great alarm ;
for "that is the worst place," they said. Mother
Nind had come from Foochow, already prepared
with her hat and umbrella for these attacks of In-
dia's great foe; yet she had been ill in Calcutta
from exposure in the Gardens ; and the little mis-
sionary herself remembered a severe headache that
had kept her in bed part of one precious day in
Rangoon. It was wise to be careful and shiver, if
need be, in the effort to keep out the sun. But
how she loved to dilate upon her glass-inclosed
veranda in Hirosaki, and how the warm, bright
sunshine, in which she could sit day after day with-
out other thought than of comfort when asked,
" Do you have to be careful about the sun in
Japan?"

Another question usually asked her at the
table, when there happened to be a lull in the con-
versation, was :

"Do you have curry in Japan?"

Curry, made as hot as red peppers could make
it, was a favorite dish in all the mission homes ;
and it was considered highly necessary, too, in en-
abling one to resist the greater heat of the atmos-
phere. If a new missionary did not like curry,
older heads were shaken in solemn warning, as
some remarked, " She '11 not be long for India !"
A still better relish, called cJmtney, was highly

EACH CRUMBLING TOWER.

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUCKNOW. 261

esteemed. Mother Nind usually asked for sugar
and milk with her rice; but the little missionary
liked the curry, if it was not too hot, and she could
eat the chutney^ after she learned to take it in as
infinitesimal quantities as freshly - grated horse-
radish.

They were accompanied from Allahabad by one
whom the little missionary soon named the
"grand old man" of the North. His wife and
another lady were at the station in lyucknow to
receive them. As soon as their faces were recog-
nized by Mother Nind, her heart overflowed in an
aside to the little missionary: "The mother of our
Woman's Foreign Missionary Society, and our
first missionary." The "first missionary" bore
them away at once to the Woman's College. Her
home was in an old Indian building, with su ;h
high ceilings and thick walls that, as they entered
the great drawing-room, they seemed to be indde
a church or cathedral; but a bright fire, burning
in a grate at one end of the long room, soon gave
them home comfort and cheer.

The next day was filled with preparations for
Christmas. To the younger teacher was given the
task of making sweets, and preparing great plat-
ters full of sandwiches; and the last thing at night,
after the others had finished their work, the " first
missionary" herself was found engaged in tacking
up greens in the drawing-room and filling it with
chairs.

Christmas morning early, while it was yet dark,

262 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

"Mother Nind and the little missionary were aroused
by the sound of singing. The English congrega-
tion had gathered in the drawing-room for their
six o'clock Christmas pra3'er-meeting. This was
a special lyucknow institution. There w^ere always
two of them, one for the English Church and the
other for the Hindustani Christians. At the close
of the prayer-meeting, sandwiches and coffee were
served, greetings were exchanged, and the people
dispersed.

At nine o'clock, before the real breakfast, there
was a preaching service in the Hindustani church;
and at eleven, just after. Mother Nind was to preach
to the English congregation. It was rapid work
going from one meeting to another, with a little
breakfast in between; and she was quite too tired
in the afternoon to accept an invitation to a Christ-
mas-tree at the hospital of the Church Missionary
Society. The little missionary went, however, and
saw the patients, who were mostly women brought
up in the dwarfing atmosphere of the zenana, hud-
dled about their brightly-lighted Christmas-tree,
seeming like little children in their pleasure and
eager desire for gifts.

In the evening, the Lucknow missionaries and
their friends, twenty-seven of them, gathered about
one board for their Christmas feast. While they
were partaking of a dinner which would have
graced a festive occasion in any land, one of the
guests said to another, " Do you realize that we are
eating in a tomb?" "Yes," he added, "this is a

>

a:
o

O
.00

IFROM JUBBULPER TO LUCKNOW, 265

Mohammedan's tomb, and the man who owned it
is buried in the next room. It 's a fine building
though, and makes the best missionary residence
in Lucknow."

It was a fine building, and the outer courts of
the tomb had been so tastily converted into a din-
ing-room, with a few other necessary living rooms,
that no one would have suspected its original design.

The next day the travelers were entertained at
the home of the " Mother of the Woman's For-
eign Missionary Society." She showed them a
precious little album, which contained photo-
graphs of the women who, with her, on a certain
rainy day in Boston, started the organization,
which they had lived to see grow beyond their
wildest expectations. It was like looking at a
tiny mustard-seed after beholding the great tree
in whose branches they had so often lodged; and
their hearts were filled with praise as they drove
away at night, trying in vain to keep their gari
clOvSed against the evening smoke, which a heavy
dew had made unusually dense.

They had other things to think of that night ;
for during the day they had been entertained by
a drive about the city, which gave them glimpses
of three of its attractions — the residency, the mu-
seum, and the public gardens.

The gardens were beautiful in tropical glory,
in spite of the long drought; the museum was a
study in the life and art of Oude and the sur-
rounding provinces; and the residency was an in-

266 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

spiration, because of the thrilling story written
all over its ruined walls. Each crumbling tower
and jagged hole told of rebellion; each waving
flag, of victory; each clambering vine, of peace!
Each ■ sheltered grave in its lovely grounds spoke
of wounds, of disease, of famine; each monu-
ment, of heroism, of faithfulness, of martyrdom;
but it was left for one underground room to tell
the saddest tale of all — the tale of patient waiting.
During the long, weary siege of Eucknow, this
dungeon-like place was the only refuge for the Eng-
lish women and children; and within its not alto-
gether safe walls, they were kept, two hundred and
seventy-five in all, for six months, unable to fight —
waiting, simply waiting for release or death.

The missionaries, who were planning Mother
Nind's time for her, said she must see the first In-
dustrial Exhibition of the Christian Association
at Cawnpore. They had passed Cawnpore on the
way to Lucknow; but it was only a short journey,
and there were many Eucknow missionaries going
with them to attend the Convention. They trav-
eled in what was known as an intermediate com-
partment. On Indian railways, caste distinctions
are indicated, not only by first-class, second-class,
and third-class compartments, but there are ladies'
reserves, zenana carriages, carriages for soldiers,
and, between the second and third-class, an inter-
mediate compartment. Theirs was still further
distinguished by a ticket marked, "For Europeans
Only."

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUCKNOW, 267

This helped them to understand an anecdote
told by the " grand old man" at the Convention.

"An Indian dressed in European clothes, was
seated in a railway carriage marked * For Euro-
peans Only.' A Scotch woman came along, took a
good look at him ; then read aloud ' For Europeans
Only,' and, turning to him again, called out, 'Come
oot o' that!' Now," continued the speaker to his
audience of young Indian Christians, who were in-
clined to think of European dress and customs as
a small boy thinks of the first suit that • is to dis-
tinguish him from a girl, " do n't be ashamed of
being an Indian ! Wear a European coat if you
like, but do n't think of that as making you a Eu-
ropean!"

Then he told the story of a young Indian who
not only pretended to be a European, but made
his father serve as his coolie, until one of his
aroused hearers expressed the feeling of all in
a cry of "Shame !"

Several of the Indian members of the Associa-
tion gave addresses, some of them in good English,
with only now and then a slip in pronunciation, or
an amusing order like " Open your ears and hear
wide!"

The industrial exhibits were disappointing in
containing very little purely native work, but were
good copies of European needlework, embroidery,
carpentry, bookbinding, leather work, etc. Besides
the medals and prizes awarded to exhibitors, two
others were offered to winners of scholastic

268 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

honors. The recipient of one of these was a
teacher in the Woman's College at Lucknow,
Miss Lilivata Singh, the first woman to take the
M. A. degree at the Allahabad University.

It was an exciting time for the native Chris-
tians in Cawnpore, as some of them were also say-
ing farewell to Dr. and Mrs. H., who had been for
many years their special friends and care-takers.
They made speeches to them, and sang songs for
them ; they put their gift of an Indian coat on the
Doctor, and clasped a showy chain of silver about
the neck of Mrs. H., besides adorning her with
garlands of flowers ; and at the last they brought
out refreshments, which consisted of cups of strong
tea and curious cakes, fried in grease ; not nearly
so palatable as Japanese sweets, the little mission-
ary declared.

The girls' high school was closed for the holi-
days; so Mother Nind and the little missionary saw
only the few boarders whose homes were too dis-
tant for them to visit. One of them was a little
girl, named Isabella, who had a very hot temper.
Quite recently she had " given her heart to Jesus,"
and had seemed much improved ; but on one of the
idle days, when " Satan finds some mischief still,"
another girl had struck her. Instantly the old fiery
temper was aroused, and when their teacher ap-
peared she found them angrily at work pulling
out each other's hair. This suggested their pun-
ishment, which consisted in cutting off all their
hair and sending them to bed ; and when the vis-

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUCKNOW. 269

itors were taken through the long dormitory, there
were the two shamed children lying on their beds
in broad daylight, their hair in two small heaps on
the floor.

" The Eurasian children are so passionate ! I
think that good Christian schools are needed for
them quite as much as for the natives," said the
teacher, and her guests assented.

"I have just an hour in which to take you to
the cemetery, Memorial Well, Memorial Church,
and Massacre Ghat; but I think I can manage it."
This remark came later in the day, as they were re-
turning from the closing session of the Convention ;
-^nd she did manage it — the bright, wide-awake
young missionary, who had been looking and longing
for Mother Nind even before she was laid aside for
many weary months with fever, not knowing
whether it was death in India or return to Amer-
ica that the I^ord had in store for her. There was
just one grave, a missionary's lonely grave, which
attracted them to the cemetery ; and standing by
it they recounted its story once more. " She was
taken ill at the dinner-table one night, and the
next evening her body lay here."

They found Memorial Well surrounded by a
beautiful park, into which none but Europeans are
ever allowed to enter. A silent white angel, with
folded wings, marks the spot where Havelock and
his soldiers found the mangled bodies of massa-
cred English women and children, many dead,
others still breathing; and inclosing the well is an

270 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

imposing, handsomely-carved wall of stone. As
they were descending the steps of the inclosure,
Mother Nind's heart turned from sympathy for the
dead to interest in the living ; and she said to the
young, soldier who was serving as their guide, "Are
you a Christian soldier?"

He looked embarrassed, but finally stammered
out, "That's a hard question to answer!"

" If you 're not, you ought to be," she con-
tinued.

" That 's what my old father used to tell me !" he
replied.

"And now this old mother tells you !" said she.

" It 's too hard work to live a Christian life in
the service. I try to do the best I can," he argued.

"But it isn't easy to do the best you can, with-
out the lyord to help you," she urged.

There was a pause, as a good Spirit, fairer and
holier than the one over the well, strove within ;
then in an ordinary tone he said :

"Would you like to see the place where the
house stood, in which the massacre occurred?
There it is !"

Memorial Church was full of tablets to the
memory of those who lost their lives in the mu-
tiny; and lest some should come as sight-seers
rather than worshipers, a quaint notice had been
placed at the entrance: "Whoever thou art that
enterest this church, leave it not without one
prayer to God for thyself, for those who minister,
and those who worship here,"

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUC KNOW. 2J1

The last quarter of the hour found them undei
the widespreading tree which still shelters a lit-
tle Hindoo temple at "Massacre Ghat!" The
river looked so quiet and peaceful that, like all
other visitors, they found it difficult to imagine the
firing of guns and the cries of the wounded which
had once echoed over its surface. " It was just here
that the English embarked under promise of safe
conduct to Allahabad; but no sooner were their
boats out in the middle of the river than they were
fired upon by Sepoys from the shore, and all who
were not killed were brought back for confinement
and final massacre at the well," explained the his-
torian of the party.

The next morning, though it was Sunday, their
thoughts were again turned to the mutiny.

Of the many soldiers stationed at Cawnpore,
fully three hundred were Nonconformists to the
Church of England; so these had special parade
service of their own. This service was in charge
at the time of one of the Methodist missionaries,
who gave Mother Nind and the little missionary a
cordial invitation to be present. The soldiers be-
longed to the Highland Light Infantry, often
spoken of as the " crack regiment " of India, and
presented a fine appearance as they marched into
church in plaids and kilts. Their guns made a great
clattering, as they were deposited in the pews,
each at its owner's right hand, in readiness for in-
stant service. This was a lesson learned through
the mutiny, as the first attack made by the rebels

272 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

was on soldiers who were attending church with-
out their guns, at Meerut. Their own band fur-
nished music for them; and they all sang as only a
lifetime of Church-going could make them sing.
In the evening those who were off duty were free
to go to church where they pleased; so many of
them were in the habit of following their morning
preacher to his own church. This gave Mother
Nind an opportunity of talking to them ; and re-
membering her own husband's life as a soldier, she
spoke impressively from a heart full of sympa-
thy and love.

New- Year's eve, they were in Lucknow, watch-
ing the " first missionary " prepare the dining-room
for a watch-night service. This time she had the
Hindustani Christians, with a few missionaries,
while the English Christians met elsewhere.

On New-Year's day the Sunday-schools, native
and English, had their annual Christmas fete to-
gether. A large tent had been erected in the park,
with benches at one end for the English school and
a platform for the speakers. The various native
schools came marching into the park, each headed
by a band of music and bearing aloft a distin-
guishing banner. They were seated on the ground
facing the speakers, and the English school in
groups, still marked by the banners. It was a
great company, and not a woman or even a little
girl among them. They ranged from small boys
to grown men, and numbered many more Hindoos
and Mohammedans than Christians; but all were

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUCKNOW. 273

faithful students of the Bible, and had come to re-
ceive prizes for good standing in the annual exam-
ination. Before the prizes were distributed, not
only were speeches made to them, but each school
contributed something to the exercises in the way
of readings, or recitations, or songs, until the
whole audience grew a little weary. Then the
"grand old man " stepped to the front, and asked
them "hit and miss" questions on the Sunday-
school lessons of the year. At once every face
grew bright and animated, and the answers poured
forth as volubly and readily as the questions. The
prizes, of which one school received fifty, were
books and bottles of ink for the older ones, and
toys for the younger. The last awards were a few
pice to each one, that he might buy his own re-
frCvShments; for, while these curious believers in
caste could study the foreigner's Bible and receive
gifts from his hands, they did not like to have him
touch their food. While the English children were
still partaking of sandwiches, cakes, and coffee, the
Indians had satisfied their simple desires, and were
enjoying the swing of Ferris wheels and merry-go-
rounds, their black eyes sparkling with fun, and
their voices mingling strange calls and shouts with
peals of laughter.

Two days later, another tent was erected in a se-
cluded place on Mission grounds, and our travelers
were invited to a tamasha (festival) for women and
girls. It was a true zenana party, not a man or
boy admitted. In all her travels in the East,

18

274 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Mother Nind had not seen before such a brilliant
array of jewels and bright colors, orange, red, and
purple predominating. How she washed her grand-
children could see the pretty sight ! As at the
other tamasha, a table in front was loaded with
prizes ; for these, also, had been through examina-
tions.

They sang and recited the various passages of
Scripture which they had laboriously committed
during the year, but showed in every move how
little they knew of public gatherings and the order
to be observed therein. As soon as the exercises
were finished and all the prizes of bright, brass
drinking-cups and new chuddars (veils or shawls
required to be worn over the head or shoulders)
bestowed, they filed slowly out of the tent, each re-
ceiving at the entrance, from native hands, a pack-
age of mithai (native sweets) wrapped in a leaf.

While these January days were bright and
sunny, making outdoor life agreeable, there was a
decided chilliness in the air, morning and evening,
within the thick walls of the woman's college, built
purposely to exclude the heat. How the young
missionary, fresh from the steam-heated houses of
America, shivered as she came to six o'clock choti
hazri in the great dining-room, with a thick cape
about her shoulders ! And, immediately after, she
chose the sunniest corner of the veranda for her
daily lesson from her Hindustani padre (teacher).

"You wouldn't mind the cold if 3^011 would
take a shower-bath every morning," one of the

FROM JUBBULPUR TO LUC KNOW. 275

older missionaries said to her. ''After my bath
and a run in the yard, it does n't seem a bit cold
to me."

Early each morning the bhesti (water-carrier)
made a tour of the bath-rooms, filling the jars with
fresh water from his huge leather bag, which, when
distended, made a perfect image of the animal that
it once covered. This freshly- drawn water made a
pleasant, invigorating shower; but O, the chill
♦"hat came from using water that had stood in the
jar all night !

Even at the "big breakfast" hour the air out
of the sun was cold ; and the food, which had such
long journeys to take from an outside kitchen, was
kept warm by means of double plates, with a reser-
voir in the lower part for hot water.

In the evening all were glad to sit close to the
cheery blaze in the drawing-room grate. As they
sat there after dinner one night, apparently off
duty, the little missionary was emboldened to ask a
favor. " I bought a sari in Jubbulpur, thinking that
I could use it for a sheet while I am in India, and
when I get home have it for an Indian costume.
Will some one please show me how to put it on?"
One of the teachers quickly stepped forward and
undertook to drape the long white sheet, whose
one bit of color was an orange stripe in the bor-
der; but came out with two or three yards left
over. She tried again ; then some one else tried.
"There are so many different kinds of sari,'' they
said, in explanation of their failure. " This is

276 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

much longer than the Bengali sari ; and the chud-
dar, of course, is worn here." So the little mis-
sionary put away the sari, concluding that the
Indian dress, if "only a strip of cloth," was not,
after all, so simple a costume as it seemed.

n

« MOHADABAO

lElLLY

BUBAO/V e*

CHAPTER XIV.

oSlTAPUR
0 iUCKNO\N

^.

"Thk elephant is here!"
Mother Nind was resting, late
in the afternoon, after a fatiguing
day, and she hesitated to exchange her comfortable
bed for an elephant's back. But one of the mission-
aries was waiting in the veranda with her camera ; so,
quickly dressing, she was out, entering into the fun
with the youngest and gayest. The elephant was
kneeling to bring the ladder, which was suspended
from his back, within a step of the ground. All
who were going to ride were told to "hurry up, as
it makes him cross to kneel long." When they
were in their places — three on one side and two on
the other — the command was given to the great
creature to rise. This caused some screaming on
top, as the riders slid about the howdah, and clutched
each other in the vain effort to keep their places.
But as soon as he was well up, equilibrium was
restored, and they were ready for the picture.
Then, with slow, heavy tread, he moved down the
road, through the college grounds and out into the
city streets. His driver was a turbaned, half-naked
277

27-3 IN jOURNEYINGS OFT,

coolie, who sat on the elephant's head, guiding him
with his toes, and an iron prod, which seemed to
answer for a whip. At last they entered an exten-
sive courtyard, surrounded by buildings. " This
was the palace of the King of Oude," said one of
the riders. " That building near the center was
the place where he received his wives (he had four
hundred in all). Now it is often used for Chris-
tian gatherings."

On the elephant strode, each long, slow step
taking them over the ground as rapidly as the
swifter pace of many a smaller animal. It stopped
in front of the Deaconess Home, and knelt again
to let them off. The Deaconess Home was the
house in the tomb, where Mother Nind had eaten
her Christmas dinner. She wanted to go over the
house and see the additions that had been built in the
rear for native dormitories. Very simple they- were,
each with its low charpoi, and a place in the stones
outside where the occupants could do their own
cooking ! Though there were few native women as
yet who could be trained into deaconesses, there
were many who needed a home — the tried and
tempted ; the afflicted and distressed ; the poor and
those who had been driven from their houses for
Jesus' sake. As they walked down the long veranda,
the matron paused before one of these — a poor,
blind paralytic — and remarked: "That woman
said such a sweet thing the other day. It was this :
' When I open my eyes in heaven, the first thing
I shall see will be Jesus.' "

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 279

It was growing dark ; still Mother Nind lin-
gered to say a few cheering words to her before
passing on to other duties.

Everywhere she went there was so much to see
and say that, she remarked to the "grand old man"
one day, she could find no time to answer her let-
ters.

"Let me send a student from our class in type-
writing and stenography at the boys' college to
help you," he said. " I know one very well, as he is
our cook's son."

He came the next morning. It took only two
hours to dictate answers to the bundle of letters
that troubled her so ; and at night the big bundle
was replaced by a pile of carefully executed, type-
written pages. This gave her a little leisure for
her neglected note-book. "I can not recall the
text of the bishop's sermon at Jubbulpur. What
do you suppose it was?" she said to his sister, as
she mentioned some of the illustrations.

"O, James has many texts," she replied; "but
it 's all one sermon."

The little missionary looked up in surprise. A
bishop and only one sermon ! " How unjust sisters
always are !" she thought. But she did not know,
the "little bishop of India " did not understand, the
secrets of his leadership. Later she learned that
there is nothing to inspire the general himself and
every soldier in the line, like the cry, " The com-
mander-in-chief is with us !" and she understood
why he should weave in and out of every sermon

28o IN JOURNEVINGS OFT.

the thought of Immanuel, until his hearers knew
full well what was coming ; yet the more they heard
the more they were thrilled and spurred on to vic-
tory.

In her first drive about lyucknow, nothing had
been pointed out to Mother Nind with greater
pride than "Our Methodist Publishing-house." It
was a two-story building, free from debt, and she
agreed with the missionaries that it was a great
achievement. But she understood it better when
she went inside, and saw its presses busily engaged
in turning off religious literature in two strange
languages. A Sunday-school paper was taken from
one of them, and handed to her. It was printed in
Hindi, each character curiously marked at the top
by a straight, horizontal bar. '' We can not make
the Urdu character into tj^pe at all, it contains so
many dots and broken circles. That has to be
lithographed," her guide explained, as he took her
on to show her some of the work. She thought of
the other publishing-houses she had seen; and
chief among them that of her son-in-law in Foo-
chow. On that last morning he had taken her over
the establishment, and shown her every phase of
the work ; but nothing had interested her like the
great cases of type, made to accommodate the
thousands of characters contained in the Chinese
alphabet. The characters most used were placed
near together; still the typesetter had to make
many a journey up and down, in front of his long
case, searching for all that were needed in a given

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 28 1

page. And here in Lucknow was a character so cu-
rious that it could not be put in type at all ! How
easy the home printer's work seemed now, with
only twenty -six letters to manipulate !

Much to her regret, she had to leave I^ucknow
before the beginning of the new term at the
Woman's College. She had wanted to see the
workings of this experiment to bring an advanced
education within reach of the women in India. It
was fitting that it should be the inspiration of their
"first missionary;" but how sorry she was that
the burden of so many first things should fall upon
her!

A new building, containing chapel and dormi-
tories for the collegiate department, was approach-
ing completion. " It is costing so much more than
I had any reason to expect," she confided to
Mother Nind, " that I fear I shall be just where I
have always told our younger missionaries never
to get — in debt ! I am beginning to feel burdened
by the prospect."

Many such a tale of anxiety and care had been
poured into Mother Nind's symathizing ears, and
there were many yet for her to hear. Often at
night the responsibilities carried by her missionary
daughters weighed upon her until sleep became a
servant that would not hasten at her bidding.
Letters multiplied, appeals grew more forcible, and
her busy brain was ever cogitating plans to relieve
the constant pressure for more workers and more
money.

282 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

A Sitapur missionarj^ was in Lucknow, to bear
her awa}' for the feAv da3^s that intervened before
the opening of the North India Conference at
Bareilly. " I like that," said Mother Nind, as she
saw -her new hostess selecting tracts to give to
people at the railway stations along the way. At
one station, they met a native pastor who had come
to see Mother Nind for the few moments while the
train waited, and to send a message through her to
the dearl^'-loved missionar}^ in America who had
been the means of his conversion.

There were two native schools in Sitapur, one
for bo3^s and the other for girls. Though they
were quite a distance apart, until a church could be
built the girls were all marched to the boys' school
for one Sunday service, and the boys to the girls'
school for the other.

The Government was building a church, which
will soon be completed ; but as that was intended
onl}^ for English soldiers, the missionaries were
busy also putting up a Butler chapel for the native
Christians. Mother Nind well remembered Dr.
Butler's first pleas for the fund, which was now on
interest, aiding in the erection of chapels all over
India; and the sight of each one thrilled her like
meeting with a friend whom she had loved in
former years.

The bread she had cast upon waters all seemed
coming back. Her host reminded her one day of
a debt of gratitude which he personally ow^ed to
her. He was in the home-land on furlough, pre-

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 283

paring to return to India. Mission funds were so
low that he had secured his passage with only
steerage accommodations. But Mother Nind hap-
pened to hear of his plans, and at once said to
some of her friends : " Now, it 's too bad to let this
brother go steerage. lyCt 's take up a collection,
and send him first-class."

''And you did take up a collection," he added,
" and sent me off in good shape, giving me letters of
introduction to your friends in England, wdth whom
I spent three most happy weeks, resting and sight-
seeing."

Though the work in Sitapur seemed yet in its
infancy, it could boast of two auxiliaries of the
Woman's Foreign Missionary Societ}^ The women
of the Church were united in one, and the other
was made up of the older members of the Girls'
School. One morning, long before breakfast, Mother
Nind was invited to meet both auxiliaries in a union
meeting. The secretaries of the two societies sat
at a table in front, each with her book open before
her. As soon as the introductory hymn and prayer
were finished, the older secretary arose to call the
roll of the society. Each member responded by
stepping forward to deposit her monthly offering,
which seldom exceeded two or three pice, on the
table before the secretary.

Then the other secretary followed with her roll-
call. This was a feature of the meeting which
Mother Nind could not fail to applaud, and she was
also much pleased with the singing.

284 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

" Who taught these girls to sing so sweetly?" she
asked.

''Our best teacher," was the reply. "She is a
Eurasian girl, but well educated and very clever.
She can teach a class in the main room, and keep
all the classes in the adjoining room quiet, easier
than a native woman can manage one little class."

Another namesake was added, while she was in
Sitapur, to an already long list of Mary C. Ninds.
It was the new-born daughter of one of the pastor-
teachers, and she was taken to call at the little, low
mud house where it lay. Kneeling in the one dark,
room of the hut (no way of admitting light except
through the door), she thanked God that, poor as
it was, this Indian babe had been born into a Chris-
tian home.

On her last morning in Sitapur, as she was
busily writing, she was interrupted by the sound
of music, and looked up to see the boys and girls
of the two boarding-schools marching toward the
house. They had come to make their salaams for
her visit ; and after singing the popular, stirring
bhajan ^''Jai Prabhu Yishiu,''^ departed.

It was a happy coincidence that led her to
Bareilly, the birthplace of Methodist missions in
India, for the annual session of its largest and oldest
Conference, the one known as the North India
Conference. Four years before, it had been divided
to form the Northwest Conference ; and in that
short time it had gained all that had been lost by
division. The gain had been entirely in native

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 285

preachers, as the number of American missionaries
was growing less. "They must increase, while we
decrease," quoted the bishop, who, in humility, is
another John the Baptist, preparing the way for
those who shall do the greater works.

He spoke easily to the Conference in both Eng-
lish and Hindustani, doing away with the inter-
preter, whom Mother Nind had become accustomed
to see as the bishop's right-hand man in Conferences
farther east. When the roll was called, the minis-
ters were amused to hear one of the native preachers
respond to the name "Seneca Falls." "He was
supported by a Church at Seneca Falls, and so he
was given that name," explained a missionary from
that locality. Then she pointed out Joel Janvier,
grown blind and old, but forever honored as Dr.
Butler's devoted helper at the time of the mutiny,
and the first native preacher of the Methodist
Church in India.

Mother Nind was in "the place of her first love."
Nearly twenty-five years before, one of the first
group of girls adopted in the Bareilly Orphanage
had been given her name, and it was here where the
first medical missionary of her Society had appealed
to a native prince for land upon which to build a
hospital. It made her happy to go through this
hospital, and think of all the neglected women to
whom it had brought healing and comfort. In the
waiting-room she saw a low stool and a few books.
They were printed in raised characters for the
blind ; for the native Bible-reader, who sat there

286 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

every day, lifted sightless eyes to the waiting pa-
tients, and taught them only through the touch of
her skilled fingers.

The orphanage contained over two hiindred
girls. Some were growing into womanhood with
a steady, reliable air, which only years of training
could produce ; others looked so wild and restless,
it was easy to believe that they had just been
brought in from wretched village homes. Many
were yet babies, laughing and crying by turns, as
they rolled on the ground or were carried on the
shoulders of the older girls. Mother Nind had seen
many quaint babies since she began her travels in
the East, and many quaint ways of carrying them.
First came the almond-eyed baby, strapped tightly
on the back of an older child, its little head dan-
gling in the sun ; then the black, naked child of the
Equator, astride it's mother's hips ; and now these
dimpled Indian orphans, on the shoulders of women
renowned for their erect, graceful carriage.

During the best hours of the day, all except
the babies were found in the school-room ; and
how different this was from other school-rooms !
In Japan and China, each child had a brush and
an ink-stone, painting his lessons on thin sheets
of paper; while the Indian child dipped a stick,
sharpened like a pen, into a bottle of ink, and
wrote on a wooden slate. In some of the schools
where Mother Nind had been, the pupils had read
from the top down; and in those whose books
were printed in horizontal lines there was a differ-

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 287

ence, some reading from left to right, others from
right to left.

There were differences, too, in their food and
manner of eating. In place of the rice and chop-
sticks, these children broke off bits from their
chapatis (large, thin wheaten cakes) with their
fingers, dipping them into a kind of soup or gravy.
They needed no dining-room, for the open ground
or broad verandas furnished them with ample space
to sit around on their feet, each with a chapati in
one hand and a brass plate containing the soup in
the other. "I have heard high-class natives argue
that there is more refinement in their way of eat-
ing with their fingers than in ours of eating with
a knife and fork; 'for,' they say, 'we always
wash our hands carefully before we eat, so we
know they are clean; but you are not so sure
about your knife and fork.' "

This explanation came from one who had been
in India long enough to cease to regard every fea-
ture of its ancient civilization as barbaric; but
slowly and surely the truth was being revealed to
her that other than Occidental wa3^s and customs
may be right and proper, and that those might
safely be left untouched in their work.

All the wheat for the chapatis was ground at
the orphanage. One large room was set apart for
the "grinding-room;" and the older girls had their
regular hours, when they sat two at a stone, grind-
ing out their daily allowance.

During the vacation, they had taken pains with

288 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

the decoration of their simple dormitories. Christ-
mas cards from America covered most of the walls;
and in one dormitory the visitors were pleased to
be suddenly confronted by the smiling face of Mrs.
Bottome.

They had just heard an interesting discussion,
in the Woman's Conference, on the subject of
Christmas boxes. One missionary from the hills
complained that she had been obliged to pay a
large sum of money to a relay of coolies for bringing
a Christmas box to her from the nearest railway
station in the plains, and then found that it con-
tained only English books and papers, which were
of no use there, as she was engaged in native work.

Another told of the duty she had been obliged
to pay because of high appraisals, even old adver-
tising cards given a commercial value, and rated at
a cent apiece. She added that many people at
home did not seem to know that freight at sea
was charged according to bulk, not weight; for
they used boxes much larger than necessary, fill-
ing in the spaces with waste paper, or even empty
pasteboard boxes.

Mother Nind was astonished to find that the
course of true love, as expressed in Christmas
boxes, should so often, and from so many causes,
fail to run smoothly, and made a careful note of
these points for future use in missionary addresses.

The North India Woman's Conference con-
tained so many members, that the reports of the
year's work were not read at the meetings, only

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 289

presented for publication. Some came from dis-
tant, lonely stations, with more of self-sacrifice
wrapped up in their brief lines than many people
dream of through an entire existence. One was
from dear Mary Reed, the brave, patient mission-
ary to the lepers of Pithoragarh, whose own taint
of leprosy acquired in work elsewhere had led
her to this special field and separated her entirely
from other workers. Her pen seemed dipped in
tears, not on her own account, but for the enemy
who had been busy sowing tares in her little field,
endeavoring to bring even this work to naught.

Dr. Sheldon, w^orking on the distant borders of
Thibet, was another member who could not be
present, but, by absence, proved her love and
devotion.

One morning, Mother Nind went early to the
home where the daily sessions of the Conference
were held, to see the school that was taught on
the back veranda. It was a school for women,
wives of the native preachers who belonged to
the Bareill}^ training class. A small part of the
Compound was set off for the use of these
preachers and their wives; and there the}^ lived
simply, as in their own homes, while they studied
and prepared for their future work.

The closing da}^ of the Conference came. The
Woman's Conference had already adjourned, and
its members were seated with the preachers and
other missionaries, waiting to hear the appoint-
ments. The Finance Committee had been hard at

19

290 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

work through the busy six days' session, trying to
make the appropriations fit the work (they could not
consent to fit the work to the appropriations); but
had only failure to report. It was an exigency
that required unusual and adroit management ^
and where could it receive this better than at the
hands of -the little bishop ! In the same matter-
of-fact tone in which he announced the usual ap-
pointments, he declared six of the missionaries of
the Conference who were on furlough, some about
to leave, others to return, to be effective at home,
thus depriving them of their connection with the
Conference, and saving their salaries to apply to
native work.

"The people at home can not see our native
preachers and their work," he argued. "But they
can see the missionaries; and if they find there is
not enough money to send them back, they may
be aroused to give us what we need."

The following day. Mother Nind packed her be-
longings again, and started out on a novel journey.
After two or three hours of railway travel, she was
seated in a tonga (a two-wheeled vehicle, with a
white top or hood, its two seats arranged back to
back), and driven over a steep, winding road, so
taxing to the horses that they had to be changed
every four miles. A heavy iron harness, however,
gave the driver such a sense of security that he
drove as furiously. Mother Nind declared, as his
famous predecessor in the days of Blisha. But
at last they came to a place where the strongest

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VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 293

harness and the most furious driving were of no
avail. There Mother Nind was transferred to the
curious, boat-shaped dandi, and borne on the
shoulders of six men the remaining three miles
of the journey to Naini Tal.

Years before, she had known of Naini Tal as
Dr. Butler's place of refuge during the days of the
rebellion. She remembered the sheep-house which
he converted into a temporary meeting-place, and
thus became the first Methodist Church in India.
In later years a sanitarium was erected here for
all the missionaries, who, exhausted by the heat of
the plains, needed the tonic of its bracing moun-
tain air. And gradually there had grown up, also,
a large flourishing school for English-speaking
girls. Though started and maintained by repre-
sentatives of the Woman's Foreign Missionary So-
ciety, Government grants and tuitions of the better
class students had rendered it quite independ-
ent. Its fine buildings, beautiful garden, various
departments of work, with a separate hall for mu-
sic, ten pianos, and a music-teacher fresh from
America, made it a not unworthy namesake of the
more famous Wellesley College for American
women.

And such a setting as it had ! All the build-
ings in Naini Tal were ranged in a semicircle on
the mountain-side, step above step, terrace above
terrace, and, beyond all, the snowy peaks of the
Himalayas, while beneath lay a charming little
lake, reflecting more constant, beautiful pictures

294 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

than the fairest lady's mirror. Mother Nind had
seen many a snow-capped mountain, many a crystal
lake. She had seen them together, and had often
admired the glistening majesty of the one, and the
transparent peace of the other. But when she had
gazed above, and below, and around, at Naini Tal,
other beautiful scenes faded by comparison, and
she gave to this her highest praise. *' The most
lovely spot on earth," she called it; and, when she
came down from "Snow Seat," where she had gone
for a better view of the heights, she might have
added, " most heavenly;" for she felt like one who
had seen a vision of angels.

A dandi carried her all the way down the
mountain to the railway station, and she was soon
back in Bareilly, ready for another trip. What
contrasts there were in mission work and surround-
ings ! Now she was to visit a little lone mission-
ary engaged in native work, and situated much like
the other little missionary whom she had visited
in Hirosaki. On the journey to Bubaon, made
partly by rail, and partly by tuin-ium, she stopped
at a little place called Aoula. There, early in the
morning, she was entertained to choti hazri in a
native pastor's house. He had been one of the for-
tunate preachers who had found their wives in the
Bareilly Orphanage ; and his home, though very
poor, was spotlessly neat and clean. That evening
in Budaon she attended a meeting in one of the
mohullas (wards), occupied by the low-caste sweep-
ers, which helped her to understand what one of

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VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 297

the missionaries had said at a Conference prayer-
meeting. His hair was white, and his voice trem-
bled as he told the younger missionaries his ex-
perience :

" I came to India, ambitious to study Eastern
religions, and to become famed for my ability to
dispute their subtle philosophies ; but gradually
I have dropped a little lower and a little nearer the
Master, until now I am content to be called the
* Sweepers' Padre. ^ "

They did seem the lowest of the low. Children
at play with mud-pies were infinitely cleaner than
they ; and their minds were so dull and apathetic that
they could scarcely grasp the simplest teaching.

Sunday brought Mother Nind the pleasure of
preaching in a Butler chapel. There were several
of these chapels in Budaon District, she learned ;
but as the district contained seven thousand square
miles, she thought there could not be too many.

From Budaon she traveled in a palli gari (ox-
cart) to Moradabad. It was the last of January ;
still she was in time to see Christmas presents dis-
tributed at the girls' school.

At a prayer-meeting, which had an attendance
of three hundred, she was impressed most of all
with the dignity and fine presence of her inter-
preter. What was her surprise to learn that he,
who was head master of the Boys' School, and an
earnest student of Greek and Hebrew, with a wife
at the head of the Dufferin Hospital, had belonged
to the despised sweepers' caste !

298 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

At a woman's meeting, her attention was called
to an old woman, who sat with her children and
grandchildren about her. Three generations of
Christians they represented. What joy to see such
a sight in a heathen land !

The most interesting meeting she attended,
however, was in a weavers' mohulla. When she ar-
rived at the mohulla, she found a mission day-
school in session under a widespreading tree in
the open air. The mission inspector was present,
and sat with his children in front, while the women,
still engaged in spinning, gathered in the rear.
Many of them had their babies with them, on their
hips or at their breasts ; and occasionally a man
would slip in to form a part of this strange gath-
ering.

But while she lingered in Moradabad, the
Northw^est Conference, which she had planned to
attend, was opening at Meerut. This made her a
late arrival, though even then she was a few hours
earlier than the little missionary, who had been up
in the Punjab, visiting old school-friends.

''You have missed so much," everyone said.
" You ought to have been here to the self-support
anniversary. Bishop W. was here, and said it
was the most encouraging feature he had seen in
all his tour of Eastern missions.

"Why, what did the people bring?" asked the
little missionary.

" O, everything, even to pigs' bristles," was the
reply.

VISITING TWO CONFERENCES. 299

lyater, a native presiding elder, whose wife was
a Mary C. Nind from the Bareilly Orphanage,
showed the first Mary C. Nind his annual report,
neatly written in English. This contained a list
ofH:he offerings toward self-support on his district.
Besides rupees, annas, pice, and kauris (small shells
used for money), there were gifts of " flour, grain,
dry bread, red pepper, fowls, eggs, pigs, ponies,
pigeons, goats, buffalo-calves, lambs, cow-calves,
pieces of cloth, wicker baskets, winnowing fans,
iron sieves, brooms, coats, earthen cups, and
caps."

He not only showed his report, but he intro-
duced her to his children, and brought out his
training class of pastor teachers for her inspec-
tion. Through an interpreter she asked them
questions about their conversion ; and how pleased
she was to have answers promptly interpreted to
her, that would have graced any class-meeting in
America !

CHAPTER XV.

* AilOAHR

BOWBAY

'' I SHOUi^D like to hear ' Jesus knows ' once more,
as Phebe Rowe sang it in America." This was a
request made by Mother Nind during a pause in
the first meeting she attended of the Woman's
Conference at Meerut.

Phebe Rowe belonged to another despised class,
whose mixed blood makes it abhorred of both the
nations from which it springs. It is related of her
that when she was first admitted to a mission school
she seemed so awkward and dull that one teacher
in despair remarked to another, " Whatever can we
make of /lerf' But the I^ord had something he
could make of her; for he had already given to
this tall, overgrown girl a more precious birth-
300

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 3OI

right than that of rank or position — the gift of a
sweet, beautiful voice.

Through the mission school she had been led
to a consecration as deep and pure and perfect as
that of Frances Ridley Havergal herself; and now
no missionary, from bishop down, was more " meet
for the Master's use " than she.

During the Conference she occupied her own
little tent, living by herself in the same simple
way as when engaged in village work. Soon after
the close, her tent, bed, and cooking utensils were
loaded on a bullock-cart, and started off. Another
bullock-cart was ready to carry herself, three na-
tive Bible-women, and a missionary from the South
who, under recent appointment to evangelistic work,
had come North " to see how Phebe did it."
Mother Nind and the little missionary accompa-
nied them to their first village. The little mission-
ary thought the bullock-cart did not bump any
more than Wi^basha. " O, it goes well here," they
said, "for these o^r^ piickah (properly made) roads.
It 's when we get off on the kutchah (rude or im-
perfect) roads, that we have our hard time." They
had gone only a few miles when they came to a
large village, which contained not one Christian
hearer or inquirer. Curiosity, however, brought
the people running to meet them, some with hands
covered with flour, others with manure, according
to the occupations in which they had been en-
gaged. Phebe and her companions went through
the village, taking advantage of open spaces to

302 IN JQURNEYINGS OFT.

stop and sing and talk to the gathering crowd. If
there was n't space enough below, some of the
hearers climbed to the housetops and looked down,
like Zaccheus of old. At the close of each little
meeting, tracts and hymnals were offered for sale.

"Why do n't you give away your tracts?" the
little missionary asked.

" Because, if we did, they would soak them into
pulp and make baskets of them," replied the mis-
sionary from the South.

The visitors were followed to a large pepil-tree
outside the village, where they took their stand for
a parting song and word of exhortation. They
were urged to stay longer, one man inviting them
to his house for a drink of milk. But the Mem
Sahib (Mother Nind) was tired, they said, and
must go home to rest. Hearing this, the villagers
said no more about their staying ; but, on the con-
trary, politely urged them to go.

" We are not always treated in this way," Miss
Rowe had told Mother Nind. "Sometimes we are
not allowed in the village at all, but are driven
away to our cart or tent, where those who wish
to hear must come by night secretly to inquire the
way of life." Then they parted. Mother Nind and
the little missionary hearing nothing more of the
noble evangelist, until in Muttra a letter came, tell-
ing of her narrow escape from a tiger. She was walk-
ing directly toward him, she wrote, and would not
have turned in time, had not the others in the cart
noticed her danger and screamed to her to return.

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 303

The Mem Sahib was tired, and readily accepted
an invitation to remain in Meerut for a week's rest.
One morning, just as she had laid out a pile of let-
ters to be answered, her quick ear caught the sound
of firing. It grew so loud and constant that she
finally put away the letters, got out her big pith
hat and covered umbrella, and started off, saying
to the little missionary, " I must see what is going
on." The latter followed, and soon they were in
the midst of an exciting scene. Soldiers were run-
ning here and there across the fields; squads of
cavalry now and then dashed down the road ; the
firing was rapid, and seemed to be all about them.
Meeting at last an officer riding slowly and alone,
they ventured to ask, " What does all this mean?"

*' It 's a sham battle," he replied. " We are pre-
tending to defend the treasury against an attack of
the enemy."

If it had been a real battle, neither he nor any
other officer or soldier could have seemed more in
earnest, been more dignified or alert.

" What an impression such displays as these
must make upon the natives ! I do n't believe
there '11 be another mutiny," confidently asserted
the little missionary on the way home.

But another morning she was herself attacked
by a whole army of rebels on wings. Unexpectedly
she had walked into a swarm of hornets ; and be-
fore she could defend herself, they had left their
stings in face, hair, neck, and hands, so man}^ of
them, that the kind friends who gathered about

304 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

her shook their heads in alarm at possible results.
But the lotion of chalk and vinegar, which they
hastened to apply, relieved the pain ; and she was
ready to laugh when Mother Nind brought out her
Bible and read how God used hornets to drive the
enemies of Israel from the land of Canaan.

The nice new building in which the Conference
had been held, sheltered also a girls' school. There
were so many little ones that thc}^ were grouped in
twos, each little group in charge of an older girl.
Saturday was their bus}^ day, when, instead of
scrubbing the floors of their dormitories with soap
and water, like many other school-girls, they fresh-
ened them by applying, with their fingers, a new
coat of mud and plaster. This greatly impressed
the little missionary ; but Mother Nind had seen it
before in the native school for girls in Cawnpore.
"There they made their own walks, too," she said.

The little missionary sighed. How did she
happen to miss that ! O, she remembered ! That
was the day she joined a party that were going
down the river alligator-shooting. That was inter-
esting, too, though the part she enjoyed most was
seeing dhobis (washermen) in groups along the
shore, beating their clothes on stones in the river,
some of them grooved like real washboards.

Sunday afternoon there were two Epworth
Leagues in session at the same time. After the
little missionary had seen the Juniors take up their
collection, which consisted not only oi kaw'is, but
of marbles, buttons, and any little thing to which

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 305

a market value could be attached, she slipped into
the Senior I^eague meeting. Mother Nind was in
the altar, surrounded by twenty-nine young peo-
ple in turbans and chuddars, each praying aloud for
forgiveness of sin and the blessing of a new heart.
One of them had been detected a few da5^s before
in an apparently would-be robbery ; and the others
were no doubt in as great need of something more
than a mere profession of Christianity.

*' We are not satisfied to reclaim them from
idolatry and baptize them as Christians ; but, just
as fast as we can, we try to lead them to a real
heart-experience, that shows itself in a changed
life." These words came from a missionary's wife,
who ably seconded him in his double work among
backsliding soldiers and native Christians, young
and untried in the faith.

The one week of rest soon came to an end, and
our travelers were again whizzing over a hot, dusty
Indian railway.

''Will you please permit my brother to come in
here?" It was a native gentleman, in European
dress, who spoke.

" Yes, if he will not smoke," was Mother Nind's
prompt reply.

At this, the brother timidly entered the com-
partment, and took a seat in the corner opposite
them. They rode together until a change of cars
put them into a compartment partl}^ filled with na-
tive women. One of them wore the Mohammedan
bourka (a white garment made to conceal the en-

20

3o6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

tire person, with tiny bits of lace sewed in over the
eyes). As the train started, they were pleased to
see the bourka drop, and the woman inside, now out
of sight of any man, allow herself a little freedom
and fresh air.

There was a great fair in progress at Aligarh,
their next stopping-place. A quantity of horses
stood in rows, with their hind feet tied to stakes in
the ground, waiting for purchasers. Not far away,
the white tents of " Cook's Circus " gleamed in the
sunshine. A few booths contained the real fair,
which was an exhibit of cloths, earrings, brass-
work, and pottery ; and leading to these were rows
of shops, some filled with brass drinking-cups and
plates ; some, again, gay with bright-colored prints ;
others presenting a tempting display of wiithai.

In one of the shops sat a little boy whose face
was blossomed out with small-pox and black with
flies ; yet none of the crowd seemed to mind.

The fair was next the Mission Compound ; so
the missionaries and their guests could not well
escape its sights and sounds. One of the mission-
aries, with his native helpers, made repeated ex-
cursions into the crowd, for the sake of distributing
tracts and improving any opportunity that offered
of talking to the people ; and over the Mission
Compound, above all other sounds, there rang out
each day the Arthur Potts memorial bell, calling
Christian girls to their class-rooms, to their Bpworth
lyeague pra^^er-meeting, to Sunday-school, and to
public worship.

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 307

As Mother Nind traveled through the East, her
whole course had seemed strewn with memorials —
memorial schools, memorial churches, memorial
halls, memorial institutes ; but among them all,
there was not one that appealed to her like this
little bell in Aligarh, given in memory of one child,
but representing the love of others and the grief
of many a Rachel.

In each mission station she visited there were
always two tours for her to make. One was a tour
of the schools, the churches, the hospitals, that she
might have a glimpse of the aggressive work that
had been undertaken; the other was a trip to the
temples and bathing-places, the homes and haunts
of the people, that she might understand the nature
of the opposing forces. One of the enemy's strong-
holds in Aligarh was a Mohammedan college, con-
taining five or six hundred students. The work
seemed going on much as in other colleges ; the
rooms of the students looked quite as neat and
orderly as those of any students; and two large
classes in the courtyard engaged, one in calis-
thenics, and the other in a military drill, showed
that physical training was not neglected. But a
mosque, in course of erection on the campus, led
the visitors to ask some questions about the relig-
ious element in the curriculum.

"How many times a day do the students say
their prayers?"

" They ought to say them five times a day, but
many are too busy."

30S IJV JOURXEYIXGS OFT.

This from a student who felt a little indebted to
the missionaries for his knowledge of English.

A little more questioning, and he replied :

'■ If the}- do not say them twice a da}*, they are
fined.''

From the college to a mosque in another part
of the cits'! The steps were covered with filthy
beggars, who go about from place to place like a
band of gypsies, and form one of the most repulsive
castes in India.

**^Tiat a good advertisement for heathenism!"
suggested Mother Xind. *' That 's just what it does
for them!""

It was not the hour of prayers; so the praying
places, marked out in the pavement in front of the
"holy niche,'" were all unoccupied.

The next place visited was a Hindoo temple.
They did not want to take off their shoes ; so could
onh' stand at the door and look in. Most of the
worshipers seemed to be women. Seated behind a
hdimhoo purdah (curtain or screen), they were recit-
ing, after the priests, portions of the Shastras. The
idol above them was black, representing Parasnath,
the god of wealth.

Across the road from the temple was the home
of one of the cit}' officials.

" Those images in the wall around his grounds
are all idols," the}- were told.

^Nlonke^-s were climbing over the walls and up
the trees ; and among the passers-by were men who
wore a strangel}^ repulsive look because of signs

FRO:-r IJEERVT TO MUTTRA. 309

in colors that had been smeared on their foreheads
by the priests, as an evidence of their holiness.

" It 's the mark of the beast in their frrtht^is "
indioTiantlv exclaimed Mother Xind.

A railroad journey of three houi^ brought them
with a jerk, which was the usual announcement of
a station, in front of an unusual view. The peace-
fttl waters of the broad Jumna lay before then
and rising fron the err she shore hi shining
white terraces were the square, flat-roofed houses
of Muttra, their regularity harmoniously broken by
the domes and towers of numerous mosques and
temples. Close to the river, at intervals, were
broad flights of steps, ni.trking the bathing gh^ts
where the people not only perfom their rehgious
ablutions, but stand to feed the ' s^tcrec" turtles
of the river, and at evening time set out rows of
httle tapers to light the spirits of the dead down
the "holy" stream.

A gariy whose every wheel and shtitter rattled
more than those of any gari they had yet tried,
carried them over smooth. English-made roads to
another Deaconess Home. Its superintendent had
recently received a large inheritance, which was
already as fuUy consecrated to the cause of Indian
missions .is she had ever been. Through her lib-
erality*, one overworked missionarv- had a s:en:g:-
: :her to assist her; another, who was conivr hi
to do much traveling over bad roads, received :. : : : >
fortable carriage : several missionaries were 111.1 he
independent of the Missionary Society- for their

3IO IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

support, and the work all about was eased and
lightened. She herself, however, lived and dressed
as simply as the poorest teacher or boarder in the
Home, and would have been the last one to mur-
mur over coarse bread, or a poor quality of meat,
or the monotony of always wearing the same
gown.

Of the many branches of work radiating from
the Deaconess Home, Mother Nind and the little
missionary thought that they would like to try
zenana-visiting. In the same rattling gari that
brought them from the station, they drove with
one of the workers into the city, and along its
streets, until she said, " We '11 leave the gari here,
and walk the rest of the wa}^" Climbing a steep
hill, they came to a home of the wealthier class,
and asked for admittance. It was a regularly-vis-
ited zenana, and they were expected on that par-
ticular morning ; so the door was soon opened, and
they were ushered up-stairs. The wife and her
mother-in-law were waiting to receive them, the
younger woman dressed in a brilliant, rose-colored
costume, edged with gold embroidery. Her bare
arms were loaded with bracelets and armlets, her
ears weighed down with rings, and such heavy
anklets fell about her feet that, every time she
stepped across the floor, they clanked like a pris-
oner's chain. She read a little, to show what she
had learned in these visits, and brought out a piece
of embroidery which also the zenana visitor had
taught her to do. It was not finished, and sadly

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 311

rumpled and soiled ; yet, like any child, she wanted
to be taught something new. The visitors looked
in pity upon this typical Indian woman, a prisoner
both in mind and body, and wondered what she
would do if she were to be set at liberty. Would
she not, like a little bird who has always been
caged and knows no other home, come fluttering
back to the shelter of her prison bars again ?

The next zenana contained more women. They
gathered around Mother Nind, and eagerly studied
this new face, finally exclaiming, *' How white
and beautiful she is !" They had all decorated
themselves as much as possible with bracelets and
anklets, with earrings and nose-jewels, with rings
on their fingers and literal bells on their toes. A
monkey had coveted and plucked a bright jewel
from the nose of one of the women ; but by the
side of the torn, ugly space thus made, she had
triumphantly bored a place for another jewel.

It reminded the little missionary of the first
badly-mutilated ear she had seen. A precious
stone, as thick as one's finger, had been inserted,
and weighed down the ear until it hung in a rough,
ragged scallop. She had seen some with so many
little holes pierced in the rims of the ears, and
such large rings inserted, that they had to be sup-
ported by a chain passing over the head. What a
contrast they were to her loved Japanese women,
whose dress reflected not one metallic gleam, but
only the shimmer of soft silks and crapes ; and,
with the exception of their hair ornaments, wore

312 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

not a ring or a pin, or anything that could be
called jewelry !

Two visits quite exhausted Mother Nind, and
she came aw^ay inclined to think that this was the
most difficult and trying work which engaged the
hands and hearts and heads of her missionary
daughters.

Muttra was only a few miles from one of the
"sacred" cities of India, which had for a long
time been given a place in their itinerary as a
substitute for Benares, the one more often visited
by tourists. So on the first day, when they were
free from other engagements, they were rattling in
the gari to Brindaban.

Notwithstanding all the temples and idols they
had seen, there was a sense of novelty in entering
this cit}^ whose every public building is a temple,
whose homes are the homes of priests or devotees,
and w^hose one excitement is that of religious fes-
tivals and pilgrimages.

They stopped first at a new temple, which the
Rajah of Jeypore was building as a work of merit.

Millions of rupees had been expended on its
magnificent stone pillars and arches, which rested
upon foundations so deep and strong that they
promised to endure for untold ages. Fine, delicate
carvings had been wrought upon their surface, and
the interior was so grand and free as yet from im-
ages and idols, that for a few moments no one
spoke. At last the little missionary broke the
silence by saying, " How pure and beautiful it all

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 313

is!" ''Yes," said another missionary, " it will do
nicely for a Christian church some day. Just
knock out the few idols in front, and it will be
ready."

As they went about through the corridors and
verandas, grasping more and more of the design of
the building. Mother Nind's practical mind was
filled with admiration for the architect.

" I would like to see him," she said. '' How
did he ever conceive such a plan as this ? It 's
worthy of any Christian."

Well it would have been for their opinion of
Brindaban, if they had gone no further !

They next entered the outer gate of the largest
temple in the citj^, and found themselves in a paved
court, surrounding another inclosure. How much
it seemed like the temple at Jerusalem, and more
when they learned that only Hindoos were allowed
to enter the inner court ! But there the resem-
blance ceased; for the towers surmounting all the
gateways were covered with idols, hundreds carved
on the outside, and, perhaps, hundreds more
within.

Walking to the riverside, they could see what
were called the footprints of Krishna, and look up
at the tree which he climbed one da^^, carrying
with him the clothes of some of the women who
were bathing in the river. As the story goes, this
great god of the Hindoos required the nude bath-
ers to dance for him under the tree before he
would restore the stolen garments.

314 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Man}^ of the houses had a closed, desolate air,
as though they were occupied only on mela or fes-
tival occasions. They stepped for a moment into
the gardens surrounding a fine temple, erected b}^
a Ivucknow banker. Its twisted pillars, its marble
statuary, the foliage and flowers of the garden, were
'so restful, that they would have liked to go be^^ond
the posted injunction : " Prevention by religion to
Kuropean or Mohammedan gentleman go further
step."

There was one thing more of special interest,
however, which they could see. That was a large
structure of red sandstone, built in the shape of a
cross, and therefore supposed to have been the
work of Jesuits. The rear only they found ten-
anted by idol shrines and priests.

As they were driving out of this curious city of
Brindaban, they saw rows of little houses, sur-
mounted along the eaves by piles of brush, put
there to keep numerous and thievish monkeys from
clambering down and getting inside. One of these
houses was, after all, the unique feature of Brinda-
ban; for in this great city, devoted exclusively to
.Hindoo worship, that alone belonged to Christian
Imissionaries. From one court to another the priests
"had contested their right to hold property in a
"holy cit}^" but only in the end, under an Eng-
lish Government, to be compelled to yield. It was
a tiny place ; but it made a rest-house for the work-
ers who came from Muttra to visit the zenanas, and
to preach in the open air whenever and wherever

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 315

they could obtain an audience. Just at that time the
priests had risen in a body, and vigorously caused
all the zenanas in Brindaban to be closed against
the visitors.

Mother Nind and the little missionary had
heard about this Aligarh, having listened with bated
breath and excited interest to the story of the poor,
high-caste lady whose husband beat her so cruelly
and so often that she determined to run away.
Those Christian workers who came from Muttra
were so gentle and kind, she would cast herself
upon their mercy, she thought. And so one day
she presented herself at the Deaconess Home, and
told her pitiful tale for the first time to sympa-
thizing ears. How their hearts ached for her at
the Home, and how they wanted to help her ! But
the superintendent was wise and firm. " It would
bring us into trouble, and all our work in Muttra
and Brindaban to naught, if we should take you
in ; we can not do it. You must return to your
husband." The poor woman pleaded as for her life,
and so successfully that she was allowed to remain
in the Home that night ; but the next day she was
sent away. Scarcely had she gone when inquirers
appeared at the door in search of her. Meanwhile
one of the Bible-women had slipped out, and, in her
pity for the hunted creature, had concealed her in
her own mother's home, which was not far from
the Mission Compound. The superintendent un-
aware of this, truthfully answered all the questions
put to her, saying that the fugitive had been there,

3l6 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

but had been sent away. The pursuers went from
door to door, until the object of their search real-
ized that she was doomed unless she also moved
on. Then from door to door she went, fairly fly-
ing in her desire for freedom, until she spied a
sweeper's costume. Donning this, she grasped a
broom and began to sweep the road, hoping in that
disguise to evade pursuit. But her awkwardness
betrayed her; she was apprehended and carried
back to the waiting husband, angered by her flight
and grown more cruel than before ; and part of the
trouble which the superintendent had feared, came
to pass in the temporary closing of the work in
Brindaban.

The missionaries in Muttra, as in most of the
Indian cities where soldiers were quartered, had one
church for English-speaking people, and another
for natives. The latter was a memorial church,
bearing the name of Flora Hall, and used through
the week as a day-school for boys.

In some miraculous way a site for this hall had
been secured in the heart of the city. There, with
only the image-covered spires of Hindoo temples
and the proud domes and minarets of Mohammedan
mosques to rise as high as its simple bell-tower,
with its shop at its entrance for the manufacture
and sale of endless duplicates in brass of the gross,
sensual Krishna, it stood even more of a wonder
and cause for thankfulness and praise than the little
rest-house in Brindaban.

The school for girls was out of the city, con-

FROM MEERUT TO MUTTRA. 317

nected with the Deaconess Home, and surrounded by
one of the high walls that made a zenana of every
boarding-school in India. It was kept so neat and
clean that when the father of one of the girls came
to see her, she noticed for the first time that he was
dirty ; then she began to pray most earnestly, morn-
ing and night, " O God, please make my father
clean."

Mother Nind went through the school-grounds,
just as the evening chapatis were being baked over
the coals. The cook sat on the stones by her low
fire, dextrously turning the large cakes with her
fingers, over and around, until they were puffed up
light and brown. Not far away was another woman
winnowing the grain in shallow baskets. And the
grindstone was there, too, to turn it into flour;
all the processes of preparing food, except raising the
wheat, done in the school! What simple living!
No wonder that an Indian girl could be supported
for twenty dollars per annum !

CHAPTER XVI.

AGRA

ThkrB was small-pox in Delhi ; so there was
in every Indian city; it was impossible to escape it
anywhere. But the reports that came from Delhi
were more startling than those from any other city;
so that had been dropped from the itinerary. And
Mother Nind was not sorry ! She was not fond of
sight-seeing. She loved to talk with the mission-
aries ; to see their growing work ; to preach and
sing and pray ; to have little chats with the native
preachers and Bible-women; to receive the confi-
dences of young soldier-boys, who, after a wild,
reckless life in and out of the army, had been led
by a cup of tea and the promise of a pleasant, social
hour, into some quiet mission chapel, and finally to
the Savior himself. All these things she enjoyed.
But she wearied of the temples and palaces, the
museums and the gardens, the monuments and
towers ; of the work in brass ; of the carvings and
embroideries ; of all the sights which other travel-
318

LAST DAYS IN TIVO LANDS. 319

ers made their trip around the world on purpose to
see. So, when her hostess in Agra proposed, as
soon as she was settled in his home, to give her a
drive to the Taj, she did not respond as he expected.

" I must rest and prepare for the prayer-meeting
this evening," she said; and then, as if she would
ward off other invitations of a similar nature : "Any-
way, we must not take your time for such things,
brother."

But later she relented, remarking, with a twin-
kle in her eye : " I suppose people would think me
too much of a fool if I did not go to see the Taj."

Then she did just what other travelers were wont
to do —got an early start one morning; watched
through the drive for the first appearance of its
white domes and minarets ; climbed to the top of
the gateway for a good view of the whole wonder-
ful creation in its dazzling whiteness, and the ma-
jestic avenue of cypress-trees, whose dark, solemn
shadows are reflected from the surface of a long,
narrow reservoir of clear water, and brightened
and beautified by numerous flower-beds; walked
slowly along this avenue until, as she approached
the Taj itself, she was obliged to stop and close her
eyes, for its glory in the morning sun was greater
than she could bear; then around on the shady
side to examine the carving and inlaid-work, and
to admire the simplicity and perfection of ever3"
detail ; inside for more carving and finer inlaid-
work, and a few notes of song to hear the wonder-
ful echo ; down below to see the real sarcophagi.

320 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

of which those above were only copies ; to note
that, notwithstanding the glory of this most mag-
nificent tomb ever erected to the memory of a
woman, her sarcophagus was marked with a tablet,
and- his with a pen-box, to show that woman was a
blank for man to write upon ; to see also that the
hand of the vandal had been at work removing
precious stones and destroying much of the beauty
of the delicate tracery in leaves and flowers; to
wonder again, as they came out, how the whole
of the Koran could be wrought in marble on the
inside and outside of this gem of all architecture ;
after she had passed the gate, to stop and buy a
few photographs of one of many eager venders who
pushed their pictures from both sides of the car-
riage at once into her lap ; and then, on her return
to the house, to make more purchases of an equally
eager crowd, who filled the veranda with samples
of inlaid work "just like that on the Taj."

She had really done it all so well and so much
like any other traveler, that her host was embold-
ened to propose a trip to the fort the next morning.
And where, out of India, could she see a more per-
fect reflection, in stone, of the pride and vanity, the
power and weakness, the glory and the shame, the
ambition and the fall of an ancient civilization?
Within its extensive walls she found a palace and
a prison. Above were marble audience-chambers,
mirrored bath-rooms, and gardens filled with foun-
tains and flowers ; beneath were dungeons. By
the palace rose the domes of the Pearl Mosque,

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS, 321

whose pillars and arches of purest white marble
were so exquisitely shaped that at a little distance
they looked like one great pearl ; and not far away
from this ideal place of worship, which would seem
to inspire only the noblest thought and feeling, the
Great Mogul himself, who built the Taj, had been
imprisoned by his own son. Overlooking the river
was the piazza where, in his dying hour, as a last
favor, he had asked to be brought for another look
at the beautiful tomb where he was soon to find
rest by the side of his loved wife.

A small guard of English soldiers now formed
the only occupants of the fort ; fountains no longer
played over mosaic pavements, bringing out the
brightness and beauty of their coloring ; the inlaid
ceilings, set with gems and tiny mirrors, were not
illuminated now, except for some distinguished vis-
itor like the Prince of Wales ; the palace, the mosque,
the dungeon, were all deserted.

It was past the middle of February, and still
there was a Sunday-school Christmas fete, to be
made memorable by Mother Nind's presence. The
work in Agra was comparatively new, and the
Christians who had. been gathered together were
almost entirely of the sweeper caste. For the first
time, in church, she saw men winding their turbans
around their heads; and after the mithai had been
distributed, there was quite a squabble, some linger-
ing for hours about the house in the hope of re-
ceiving more. This little incident was an added
link in the long chain of observations that showed

21

322 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Her how much faith and courage and perseverance
were needed in the struggle to bring up a low-caste
Christian to even a respectable plane of living.
Some of the villages and mohullas she had visited
contained the dirtiest Christians she had ever seen.
They had renounced idolatry and been baptized
into the Christian faith; but for all the rest, how
much patient, devoted, mother-like training they
needed !

The next journey brought her, after an all-
night's ride, to Jeypore, the most prosperous,
purely native city in all India. She and the little
missionary had now become independent travelers.
At first, some one had taken pains to accompany
them from one place to the next; but the latter
felt equal to any emergency, since she had learned
to call out, "Coolie hai!" when they needed to
change cars, and to ask for ^^ garhani panV^ (hot
water), when they were ready for luncheon. Be-
sides, there were English-speaking guards at all the
large stations. There was only one point in which
the two travelers disagreed. The little missionary
wanted to see Mother Nind resting in a comforta-
ible carriage, especiall}^ on a night journey. But
Mother Nind was opposed to " needless self-indul-
gence." In all her traveling in America she had
seldom availed herself of the comfort of sleeper
or drawing-room car ; so, now in India, she began
to think second-class too good, and, to the little
missionary's dismay, proposed third-class travel
altogether.

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS. 323

Their missionary host in Agra, however, man-
aged the trip to Jeypore, securing seats ahead in
a second-class ladies' reserve. There was only
one other passenger, a Scotchwoman, who also was
bound for Jeypore. She knew more about the city
than they, and kindly shared her information, pro-
posing that they go to the same hotel, and hire a
carriage together for sight-seeing. Her son was
in another compartment. He was a forward youth,
and should have been in school; but ill-health had
led his mother to take him out, and give him this
trip to India. It seemed strange enough to Mother
Nind and the little missionary to be going to a
hotel. In all their journeyings, they had not once
been entertained outside of a mission home; and
they were glad, indeed, for the companionship of
strangers.

After breakfastig together at the hotel, they
were driven to the zoological gardens. "I believe
India is the easiest country in the world in which
to have zoological gardens," declared the little
missionary. " The whole country teems with ani-
mal life. Every city has a jungle at its gates, full
of wild beasts, poisonous snakes, and beautifully-
plumaged birds."

But it was too hot to linger in the gardens, and
they were glad to escape to the cool halls and cor-
ridors of the Albert Museum, not far away. This
building was a great surprise to the visitors — a
large, handsome, modern museum, erected by a
native prince in honor of the Prince of Wales,

324 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

and filled witli curios from many lands ! Mother
Nind's English heart filled with pride as she looked
at its beautiful colors and arches and wandered
through its great rooms, noting how like it was to
any English or American museum, each distinct
article neatly labeled, and put in its proper case
and department.

The School of Arts was the next place to visit,
the driver of their carriage informed them. This
was another wonderful place, as it gave them an
opportunity to see Indian artisans at work. The
exhibits were similar to much that had been seen
in the museum, and were for sale; but alas for the
degenerate taste, which led the visitors to pavSS by
all the beautiful work in brass, and bear triumphr
antly away a souvenir spoon, with a half-rupee holr
lowed out for the bowl and a monkey sporting on
the handle ! _ ^

It was time for luncheon ; and after th^t;
Mother Nind felt too tired for more sight-seeing;
so the others w^ent off without her. - ^ -

The palace of the Maharajah ! What an interest^
ing gateway, with such curious pictures alL over its
frescoed walls ! They were admitted to a few
rooms inside; and as they entered one, the Scotch
lady got out her guide-book, and rjead: ''A large
room, with ceiling decorated in red and gold, used
as an audience-chamber." r

Hastily glancing around, she remarked in an
undertone, " But this isn't a: large room, and it Jias
no such ceiling as that." ^ :. :^ l liisii

LAST DAYS IN TlVO LANDS. 325

By this time, they were ushered into anothei
room, again and the guide-book was consulted,
with equally unfortunate results.

"What a hard way of seeing the world, to try
to corrobate everything in the guide-book!" thought
the little missionary.

They were taken to see the Rajah's elephants,
and camels, and horses, and carriages, and alliga-
tors ; but the place of all places in Jeypore they
found to be an inclosed square, filled with ancient
astronomical instruments in stone. When they
saw great sun-dials, such as were used in the days
of Hezekiah, and many other curious designs, to
which they could give no name, exclamations of
delight came rapidly to their lips, and the Scotch
lady hurried back to the carriage to call her son.
He w^as comfortably seated reading a novel, and
none of her persuasions availed to make him think
it worth while to leave the light fiction, which he
could read at an}^ time, for that which was real and
historic, and only for a moment within his reach.
Poor mother! He coughed more than usual that
night, and when they met in the morning she had
given up her plans for farther sight-seeing in that
vicinity, and decided to try another place for him.

Mother Nind and the little missionary were
going on also to Ajmere. Here they saw a col-
lege built by the chiefs of all the native States o:
Rajputana for the education of their sons. Each
of the 3^oung princes had his own home; and as
no two of them are alike, and all models of archi-

326 IN JOURNEVINGS OFT.

tectural beauty, the campus presented a very pleas-
ing appearance. Mother Nind had missionary
friends in Ajmere to take her on her last round
of Indian schools and churches, and mosques and
temples.

On the long journey to Baroda she began to
feel ill. They had started third-class, and as long
as they had a reserved compartment they were
quite comfortable. But at last they were trans-
ferred to a long car, with only two seats at one
end reserved for them, and the remainder filled
with natives. Night was coming on, and Mother
Nind ill in that car, with a beautiful second-class
carriage next them entirely empty ! The little
missionary determined to make a change. Slip-
ping out at one of the stations, she had a few words
with the guard, and came back to bear Mother
Nind and her luggage with such haste into the
next carriage that the latter, for some time, did
not know how it had happened. But she forgave
the little missionary ; for soon after their arrival in
Baroda she had to give up entirely, and call herself
sick. Fortunately she was in a home with two
doctors and a dispensary ; and in a few weeks' time
she was able to be about again. But the days
were growing very warm. Only the early morn-
ings still retained a slight connection with the cool
season, and Mother Nind knew she must be care-
ful. ''If I can only get to Central Conference, I
will ask for nothing more," she said. Her passage
from Bombay was engaged for March 21st, and

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS. 2>^l

the Conference would be at Poona the week pre-
ceding. It would mean ten or twelve extra hours of
railroad travel; but the road led through mountain
passes, giving her the finest pictures from a car
window which she had seen in all her journeyings
in India. It was a pleasant change from the vast
expanse of dry, dusty plains, which had thus far
formed the bulk of the scenery through which
she had passed. But it was very hot, and again,
in Poona, she was not strong enough to attend
many meetings. All the Methodist Conferences
in India were represented at this Central Confer-
ence, and she saw again many of the missionaries
whom she had visited at their work, besides others
from Madras, whom she knew only by name.

The most remarkable feature of the Conference
was a sermon by the bishop, in which he seemed
to his inspired audience like another Moses or
Joshua, or one of the prophets, looking into the
future with such glorified vision that, with great
power, he exhorted his people to "have faith in
God." Directly after this sermon his own faith
was tested in a very practical way. One of the
missionaries came to him and said: "I have two
pastor-teachers in my employ, and nothing to
pay them. Shall I retain them on faith, or dis-
charge them?"

Pundita Ramabai's school was located in Poona,
and one day Mother Nind summoned strength to
visit this best known, perhaps, and most interest-
ing of all Indian institutions. The high-caste

328 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

Brahmin lady who, by her enterprise and perse-
verance, founded the school, was very gentle in
her dealings with her widow pupils. She allowed
them to observe caste rules in cooking their food
and in washing their garments, and she did not re-
quire them to attend Bible-classes. Every morn-
ing at five o'clock she and a Christian assistant had
prayers and studied the Bible together. Gradually
the pupils, at their own request, had joined this
early class, until fifteen out of the fifty-two in the
school had become Christians. Then, strange to
say, Ramabai was troubled, for the funds she had
raised in America had been contributed to the sup-
port of Hindoo widows. Would their American
patrons be pleased to support, instead, Christian
widows? She wrote at once to know their wishes,
and was greatly relieved when the reply came back,
"No objections!"

The Christians were very anxious to remain,
and had already besought her to allow them to
grind, or do any other hard work by which they
could earn their own support.

The buildings were well furnished and scrupu-
lously clean. One bed in each dormitory was raised
high above all the others. This was for the teacher,
supposedly to give her a more commanding survey
of the room, and elevating her, even in sleep, to a
position above her pupils.

Mother Nind was ill again at the close of the
Conference, and arrived in Bombay only a day or
two before sailing. The little missionary had gone

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS. 329

on ahead, and had much to tell her of all that she had
seen. There had been two weddings — one a Ben-
Israelite wedding, with service all in Hebrew. The
groom wore golden-brown silk trousers, a pink silk
vest, and a round pith hat, with a lace veil thrown
over it during part of the ceremony. The bridal
veil was a dream of loveliness, made of jasmines
and roses.

The other was a double wedding. The brides
were sisters, who had been among the first pupils
in the Methodist Girls' School at Bombay. They
looked very pretty in simple white silk saris.

There had been a visit to the silent, open
towers outside the city, where the Parsees deposit
their dead for vultures to feed upon, and the most
interesting and varied zenana-visiting of all had
come just at the close of their India journeyings.

They went first to a Mohammedan home.
After climbing two flights of stairs, they were ad-
mitted to a woman's prison apartment. On the
floor at one side was her bed, a simple mattress.
Near by, elevated on a comfortable wire bedstead,
was her husband's bed. She was a believer, and a
woman of considerable intelligence, reading her
own Bible lesson and listening attentively to the
explanation given.

The next zenana contained several Hindoo
women. They sat upon the floor, giving their vis-
itors seats upon the bed. They could not read,
and listened only as children listen to what they
can not understand or appreciate. Their love of

330 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

jewelry and childish ways made them seem many
grades below the quiet, intelligent Mohammedan
woman just visited, and many more below the one
next seen. She was a Parsee, daughter of a priest
living on Malabar Hill, the most beautiful quarter
of the city. She was studying both in English and
Urdu, and her teacher believed her to be a real
Christian. Her lesson for the day was in Exodus,
and, after asking many questions that had arisen
in her mind about it, she answered a few regarding
the Parsee religion, showing her visitors the sacred
coi'd around her waist, also the thin, white .skirt
worn underneath. " It must be thin and white,"
she said, "so that the heart may be clearly seen.
We do not worship the sun and moon," she added;
"we only stand near, and pray to God^

Two large steamers sailed from Bombay, March
2 1 St. One contained our travelers and many mis-
sionaries, including several General Conference
delegates; the other, the bishop, with his family,
and other delegates. A farewell reception had been
given to them the evening before at one of the
Methodist churches of the city; and now they
were sailing away, the hearts of all full of love for
India and faith in her ultimate evangelization.

Among these missionaries were Mr. and Mrs.
Spencer Lewis, of our West China Mission, who,
with their son and daughter, were on their way to
their United States home for needed rest, but en
route, had visited our missions in China, Burmah,
and India. Mother Nind had known Mrs. Lewis

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS. 33 1

from her childhood, and it was a great delight to
meet them in Bareilly at the Conference, and travel
with them in India, accompany them from Bomba}^
to Marseilles, Paris, and I^ondon, where they parted,
to meet once more before they sailed to their field
of labor in 1897, leaving their son and daughter
behind for education. These faithful missionaries
know much of Paul's experiences, " In journeyings
often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in
perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in
perils in the sea, in weariness and painfulness, in
watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings
often," and, as superintendent of our West China
Mission, Brother I^ewis can add, "Besides those
things that are without, that which cometh upon
me daily, the care of all the Churches."

Mother Nind and the little missionary were
greatly crowded. They were going second-class,
in a stateroom containing six berths, all of them
occupied. The heat was intense, and Mother Nind
felt so weak and worn that she no longer enter-
tained a shadow of regret of giving up the coveted
trip to Palestine, which she had hoped to make f
but looked forward with increasing longing to the
healthful, invigorating climate of dear old Eng-
land, and to the society of loved brothers and sis-
ters once more. She had already written to them :
"What does it matter if we are not as handsome,
as blithesome, as toothsome, as we once were !
Our hearts are young and tender and joyous, over-
flowing with God's love ; and though we are near-

332 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT,

ing the end of the journey, the prospect is all
radiant with glory. I expect Alfred, the dear,
sweet baby of the family (sixty-four years old) , will
still have the rosy cheeks, the dimples, the benig-
nant smile, the hearty laugh; for he is Vay behind
us in the race. Can he run as fast as ever? Well,
if he can, he can not overtake us, who got ahead
of him at the start. I^et us all run with patience
the race set before us, looking unto Jesus, the
author and finisher of our faith."

As we neared the Gulf of Aden our thoughts
turned lovingly to our dear Florence Nickerson,
who, January 31, 1887, was called to her heavenly
home, and whose mortal remains were buried in the
sea where they rest until the "sea gives up the
dead that are in it." Our Phebe Rowe, who ac-
companied her as nurse and companion, contin-
ued her journey to the United States, to comfort
the bereaved family and bless homes and Churches
by her presence and power. >^

Soon they were in the Red Sea, which, asi
Mother Nind expressed it, might well be called tfe
Red-hot Sea ; then through Suez Canal, and' out:
into the Mediterranean, where it was cooler. ^iiMft
steamer landed them at Marseilles, a swift railWayi
journey bearing them on to the English Channel;!
It was a short voyage across, and then she was)-
speeding by rail to Loughton. How cool and re-
freshing the air of her native land felt against her
pale, wasted cheeks ! What rest to her eyes in the
sight of its leaves, its green hedges, its well-tilled

LAST DAYS IN TWO LANDS. 333

farms! What joy in her heart at meeting the
brothers and sisters still spared to her!

, Every day she could drive or walk with them
over its unrivaled country roads. Every night vShe
slept sweetly, freed for a while from all anxiety and
xare. By the time the travelers arrived from the
trip through the Holy lyand, she looked so much
better that the little missionary said she should not
have known her.

Still she staid on ! She visited the house where
she was born, and "born again;" saw the room in
which she told her first lie; entered the garden
where she played as a child; visited the schools
which, she attended ; bought sweets again from the
Jsaker's shop, which was still standing, and looked
just as it did sixty-five years before. She went to
the chapel where she had made her first profession of
faith and became Sabbath-school superintendent ;
to the mission where she had taught her first Sab-
bath-school class ; to Exeter Hall in I^ondon, where
hier childhood missionary zeal was kindled to white
heat, as she listened to Moffatt, Morrison, Williams,
Campbell, James, and others, and where now again
she could listen _ to missionary speakers from many
fields.

:_What pleasure it was to attend a deaconess
meeting in City Road Chapel, and hear the reports of
work accomplished in the United Kingdom ; to lis-
ten to Frances Willard and Lady Henry Somerset,
as they addressed an immense and appreciative au-
dience in Queen's Hall; to enter and to be im-

334 IN JOURNEYINGS OFT.

pressed once more by the grandeur of St. Paul's and
the quiet solemnity of Westminster Abbey !

It was also dear to her heart, that the desire often
arose with her to remain in England, and live a
little longer where her parents lived, die where they
died, and be buried with them until the resurrection.
It seemed like such a quiet, peaceful ending to her
long, active life. But there was another desire par-
amount to this, the desire to '* bear fruit in old age;"
and so, after one long, restful, happy summer amid
the scenes of her childhood, she bade a final farewell
to them all, and departed for the land of her ma-
turer years.

The voyage from Southampton to New York
was a notable one. The steamship St. Louis, of the
American I,ine, is one of the best, and among its
passengers was the distinguished Viceroy lyi Hung
Chang and his suite. He was genial and courteous
to all. The entrance to New York Harbor was a
memorable one. Amid the firing of crackers, the
booming of cannon, the waving of flags and ban-
ners from boats and ships gayly decorated, the St.
Louis slowly and proudly steamed to the landing,
where the corporation of New York was waiting td
do honor to the representative of the Celestial Em-
pire. Resting on the Sabbath according to the
commandment, a short stay at Clifton Springs, New
York, a missionary address, then on to Detroit to
" home, sweet home," where loving friends were
waiting to welcome friend and mother.

/