"Mrs. Thurston's meeting," as they called it, was held in the large, uncarpeted dining-room, and the dinner tables were set in the shady back yard.

The sewing-room was a busy scene, with Miss Dora and two other ladies making the machines whir and groups of workers getting material ready for the machines or "finishing off." Mrs. Thurston, appealed to from all sides, quietly directed the work,—while Miss Fanny was here, there, and everywhere, helping everybody. Almira heard, in the course of the day, that Miss Fanny was quite wealthy, that she had contributed a great deal towards getting up the box, and was going to pay the freight.

There were several children besides Marty and Evaline. They were employed to run errands, pass articles from one person to another, and fold the smaller pieces of clothing as they were completed. As the day wore on and the novelty of the thing wore off, most of the children got tired and went out to play; but Marty, though she ran out a few minutes occasionally, spent most of the time in the work-room, keeping as close as possible to Mrs. Thurston, to whom she had taken a great fancy.

Soon after dinner Miss Fanny came to Mrs. Thurston and said,

"Now, Mrs. Thurston, if you don't get out of this commotion a while you will have one of your bad headaches. Do go out in the air. We can get on without you for an hour."

So Mrs. Thurston took Marty and went into the grove back of the house, and it was while sitting there on a rustic seat, with the magnificent view spread out before them, that they had their missionary talk.



Mrs. Thurston described her home in Southern India, and spoke of the kind of work she and her husband did there—how he preached and taught in the city and surrounding villages; how she instructed children in the schools, and visited the ignorant women, both rich and poor, in their homes. Often, when not able to leave home on account of her children, she had classes of poor women in her compound, as the yards around the houses in India are called. She also spent a good deal of time giving her servants religious instruction.

"You know," she said, "it is very, very hot there, and we Americans can only endure the heat by being very careful. At best we sometimes get sick, and we must do all we can to save ourselves up to teach and preach. That's what we go there for. If we should cook or do any work of that kind, we should die; so we employ the natives, who are accustomed to the heat, to do these things for us. Then, these servants will each do only one kind of work. That is, the sweeper wont do any cooking or washing; the man who buys the food and waits on the table wont do anything else."

"That's very queer," said Marty.

"Yes, but it is their way. So we are obliged to have several servants. But then the wages are very low. Altogether it does not cost any more, perhaps not as much, as one good girl would in this country. They are a great deal of trouble, too. They are not, as a rule, very honest or faithful, and they have, of course, all the heathen vices, and sometimes we have much worry with them. But what I was going to say is, that we do our best to teach these servants about God. We used to have them come in to prayers every day, and on Sunday I would collect them on the veranda and try to teach them verses of Scripture, which I would explain over and over again. On these occasions a good many poor, lame, blind people from the neighborhood would also come. These people were so densely ignorant that it was hard to make them understand anything, but in some cases I think the light did get into their minds."

Then Mrs. Thurston told of the death of her three dear little children, and Marty felt very, very sorry for her when she spoke of the three little graves in that distant land.

"Haven't you any living children?" she asked.

"Yes, two. One of my sons is a missionary in Ceylon, and the other, with whom I live, is a minister in New York State."

Then, it appeared, after many years of labor in that hot climate, the health of both Mr. and Mrs. Thurston broke down, and they were obliged to leave the work they loved and come back to America. In a short time Mr. Thurston died.

Marty found out, somewhat to her surprise, that the "big society" her band was connected with was not the only one. Mrs. Thurston belonged to an entirely different one, and the young ladies, Fanny, Dora, and Mary, to still another.

"You see we belong to different religious denominations," said Mrs. Thurston, "and each denomination has its own Society or Board."

"This Nebraska missionary, now," suggested Marty, "I suppose he belongs to your de—whatever it is."

"Denomination," said Mrs. Thurston, smiling. "No, he belongs to yours."

"Yet you are all working for him!" exclaimed Marty.

"Of course. It would not do for these different families of Christians to keep in their own little pens all the time and never help each other. But as yet it has been found best for each denomination to have its own missionary society, though there are some Union Societies, and perhaps in coming years it may be all union."

"Now there's this mountain band," said Marty reflectively. "The people in it are not all the same kind. I mean some are Methodists, and some are Presbyterians, and the Smiths are Baptists. I heard Ruth say she didn't know what would be best to do with their money."

She afterwards heard Ruth consulting Mrs. Thurston about the matter, and the latter spoke of one of these union societies. Ruth said she would speak to the others and see if they would wish to send their funds there.

By half-past four a great deal of work had been done, and the new garments were piled up on a table in the corner of the room. Though needles were still flying, taking last stitches, the hard-driven machines were silent, having run out of work, as Miss Fanny said. In the comparative quiet Ruth was heard singing softly over her work.

"Sing louder, Ruth," said Almira, and Ruth more audibly, but still softly, sang,

"From Greenland's icy mountains."

One voice after another took up the refrain, and by the time the second line was reached the old hymn was sent forth on the air as a grand chorus. The children came up on the porch, the girls came out of the kitchen to listen. The customers in Sims' store and the loungers around the blacksmith's shop stopped talking as the sound reached them.

When the last strains died away, and before talking could be resumed, Ruth said,

"Marty, wont you say those verses you said at our last band meeting?"

"I'll say them if the ladies would like to hear them," said Marty, who was not at all timid, and knew the verses very thoroughly, having recited them at the anniversary of her own band.

The ladies desired very much to hear them, and, taking her stand at one end of the room, she repeated very nicely those well-known lines beginning,

"An aged woman, poor and weak, She heard the mission teacher speak; The slowly-rolling tears came down Upon her withered features brown: 'What blessed news from yon far shore! Would I had heard it long before!'"

"How touching that is!" said one of the hotel ladies, and Mrs. Sims was seen to wipe her eyes with the pillow-slip she was seaming.

"Mrs. Thurston," said Miss Fanny, who saw that a good start on a foreign missionary meeting had been made, and was not willing to let the opportunity be lost, "when you were in India did you meet many persons who were anxious to hear the gospel, or were they mainly indifferent?"

In replying to this question Mrs. Thurston told many interesting things that had come under her observation, and this led to further questions from others, so they had quite a long talk on missionary work both in India and other countries. Finally one of the boarders asked,

"Well, do you think the world ever will be converted to Christianity?"

"I know it will," replied Mrs. Thurston; and she quoted, "All the ends of the world shall remember and turn unto the Lord; and all kindreds of the nations shall worship before thee."

FANNY. "For it is written, As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God."

DORA. "The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea."

RUTH. "He shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the ends of the earth."

"Dora, Dora," said Miss Fanny, with an imperative little gesture, "'Jesus shall reign'"—

Miss Dora obediently began to sing,

"Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Does his successive journeys run,"

and was at once joined by the others.

"Now, dear friends," said Mrs. Thurston, when the hymn was finished, "upon this, the only occasion we are all likely to be together, shall we not unite in asking God to hasten the coming of this glorious time, and ask for his blessing on our humble attempts to work in this cause?"

Work was dropped and every head bowed, as Mrs. Thurston uttered fervent words of prayer that the Lord would fill all their hearts with love for missions, and that he would permit them to do something towards helping in the work. She prayed especially for the children who were engaged in missionary work, and asked that they might have grace given them to devote their whole lives to the service of God.

"Well," said Mrs. Clarkson, as she was leaving, "this has been a right down pleasant meeting, and I think the last part was just about the best."



CHAPTER XIX.

THE GARDEN MISSIONARY MEETING.

Two or three days afterwards Miss Fanny, with one of her young friends, came up to tell the farmhouse people that the box had gone. She said that Mr. Sims had given them a box, and had also kindly attended to sending it off.

The day after the meeting, when Hiram went down to the postoffice, Marty and Evaline had each sent by him a book for the missionary children, and Miss Fanny said that this prompted some of the children at the hotel to send books.

During the remainder of the summer there was frequent intercourse between the hotel and the farmhouse, and the "mission workers," particularly, learned to love each other very much. Marty felt very proud to be numbered among these workers, though she was only a "twig." She said,

"I'll have a great deal to tell Miss Agnes and the girls when I go home—sha'n't I, mamma?"

Some new members joined the mountain band, and by the last of August it numbered twenty-one. Ruth said she wished very much that before Mrs. Thurston left they might have her meet with the band. She thought they would all take greater interest in mission work if they could hear something of it from one who had spent so many years in the midst of it. Mrs. Thurston said she would be very happy to attend a meeting and talk with the members. So arrangements were made to have her do so.

It would be impossible for her to reach the grove, as she could not walk so far, and the drive from the hotel to Mr. Campbell's was very rough and quite long.

"Mother," said Almira, when they were trying to settle the matter, "couldn't we have a meeting here? It would be easier for Mrs. Thurston to get here, and convenient enough for everybody else."

"Why, of course they may meet here," her mother replied. "Our parlor's a plenty big enough to hold 'em."

"Oh! dear Mrs. Stokes," protested Marty, "don't let us meet in the house when there's so much lovely out-of-doors. That grassy place in the garden near the currant-bushes would be just an elegant place for a meeting."

"I vote with Marty for out-of-doors," said Ruth. "We'll have enough times for in-door meetings after a while."

"Suit yourselves," said kind Mrs. Stokes. "You're welcome to any place I've anything to do with."

"And may some of the rest of us from the hotel come?" asked Miss Fanny, who happened to be present when this talk was going on.

"Yes, indeed. The more the—." Mrs. Stokes was just going to say, as she so often did, "the more the merrier," when she recollected that it would be Sunday and the meeting a religious one. But she let them all know she would like them to come. Mrs. Ashford and Ruth had great difficulty in persuading her not to bake a quantity of cake on Saturday and serve refreshments to the band.

"You must remember, dear Mrs. Stokes," said Ruth, "it isn't a party, and nobody will expect anything to eat. Now you must not think of going to any trouble."

"The idee of having a lot of people come to your house and not give 'em a bite of anything!" exclaimed Mrs. Stokes.

Sunday afternoon chairs were carried out to the grassy spot Marty had selected, among them a comfortable arm-chair for Mrs. Thurston. Marty insisted on farmer Stokes' special arm-chair being carried out for him, and with the help of Wattie Campbell contrived to get it there. Hiram, before he drove down to the hotel for the ladies, made a couple of benches of boards placed on kegs. These were for the girls. The boys, he said, could sit on the ground, and that is where he sat himself.

Mrs. Thurston brought with her a cloth map of India which the young ladies fastened to two trees. She also had some photographs of people and places in India which were passed around among the company. Mr. Stokes was particularly struck with the beautiful scenery these pictures showed.

"Well," he said, "I never knew much about India, but I had no idea it was such a handsome place."

"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Thurston, "the scenery in some parts of these tropical countries is very fine, the foliage is so luxuriant, the flowers so gorgeous, the skies so brilliant. Indeed, a photograph only gives the merest hint of the beauties."

She described certain mountain and forest views, also some parks and gardens she had visited.

"Don't you remember those lines in the missionary hymn, Mr. Stokes," Miss Dora asked,

"'Where every prospect pleases, And only man is vile'?"

Mrs. Thurston told them that the people in India do not live on farms as many do in this country, but crowd together in towns and villages, going out from there to work in the fields. She briefly described the large city of Madras, with its mingled riches and poverty, its streets crowded with all sorts of people, some of them with hardly any clothing on, its temples and bazaars, or shops. Then she spoke of Madura, where her home had been so long.

It was hard to get her listeners, as they sat in this cool, shady garden, fanned by mountain breezes, to understand how hot it is in India, especially Southern India. They thought the punkahs, or huge fans, that are in all the churches and larger houses, and which a man works constantly to cool the air, must be very queer contrivances. The idea of having to stay indoors during the middle of the day, keeping very still, lying down, perhaps, did not strike Mrs. Stokes very favorably.

"That wouldn't suit me," she said—"to lie down in the daytime and be fanned. I'd want to be up and doing."

"I fear even your energy would flag in that climate," replied Mrs. Thurston, laughing. "Foreigners are obliged to be very careful or they could not live there at all. Of course we missionaries were not idle at the time I speak of. We were studying, writing, or making arrangements about our work."

She then told a good deal about the way the missionaries work among the people, taking her hearers with her in imagination to some of the mission-schools, and to the Sunday services in the little church where her husband had preached. In doing this she repeated a passage of Scripture and sang a hymn in the Tamil language—the language used in that part of India.

"Now I will tell you something of zenana visiting," she said.

"Mrs. Thurston," said Ruth, "wont you please first tell us exactly what a zenana is?" Ruth knew herself, but she was afraid some of the others did not.

"The word zenana," replied Mrs. Thurston, "strictly means women's apartment, but as it is generally used by us it means the houses of the high caste gentlemen, where their wives live in great seclusion. These high caste women very seldom go out, except occasionally to worship at some temple. They live, as we would say, at the back of the house, their windows never facing the street. Sometimes they have beautiful gardens and pleasant rooms, but often it is just the other way. They have few visitors and no male visitors at all, never seeing even their own brothers. The low caste women, though they lack many privileges the others have, yet have more freedom and are not secluded in this way."

"I'd rather be low caste," said Marty.

"You wouldn't rather be either if you knew all about it," said Miss Fanny.

"In visiting the poorer people," Mrs. Thurston went on to say, "when I was seen to enter a house the neighbors all around would flock in, so that I could talk with several families at once. But in visiting a zenana I only saw the inhabitants of that one house. To be sure there was generally quite a crowd of them, for the rich gentlemen often have several wives. Then there would be the daughters-in-law, for the sons all bring their wives to their father's house. Then all these ladies have female servants to wait on them and who are constantly present, so altogether there would be quite a company."

"I suppose they would be glad to see you," suggested Mrs. Ashford.

"Oh, yes. They welcome any change, their lives are so dull."

"What do they do with themselves all day long?" inquired Miss Fanny. "I suppose they don't work, as they have plenty of servants to do everything for them. They don't shop or market or visit. They have no lectures or concerts to attend. They are not educated, at least not many of them; and even if they could read, they have no books. Oh, what a life!"

"What do they do, Mrs. Thurston?" Marty asked.

"Well, they look over their clothes and jewels, spend a great deal of time every day in being bathed in their luxurious way, and being dressed. Then they lounge about, gossip, and quarrel a good deal, I suspect. They are very fond of hearing what is going on, and the servant who brings them the most news is the greatest favorite."

"And that's the way so many women have lived for centuries!" sighed Ruth.

"Things are improving somewhat now," said Mrs. Thurston. "Education for women is very much more thought of than in former years. A great many girls are now allowed to attend the Government and other schools, and many men in these days are anxious to have their wives educated. Some employ teachers to come to their houses and teach the inmates. If only all these women could receive a Christian education, India would soon be a delightfully different place."

"How do the missionaries get into these zenanas?" Ruth inquired. "Do they go as teachers or visitors or—what?"

"In some cases missionary ladies have gained admission by going to teach these shut-in ladies fancy-work or something of the kind. Other times they contrive to get introduced in some way, going as visitors. But in every case they aim to make their visit the means of carrying the gospel to these women."

"Are they willing to have you talk on religious subjects?" asked Mrs. Ashford.

"Some of them are not. You know there is, of course, as much diversity among them as among any other women. But after they have got used to our coming, and have examined our clothes and asked us all sorts of questions, some of them very childish ones, they generally listen to what we wish to say and become interested in the Bible and the story of the cross."

Mrs. Thurston then spoke particularly of some of the houses she used to visit, told about the pretty little children and their pretty young mothers, what they all did and said, in a way that interested her hearers very much. She also told how some of these friends of hers had received the gospel message and were converted to Christ. "And if you only understood the position of these people under this dreadful caste system, you would see what difficulties they have to contend with before they can come out on the Lord's side," she said. "But it is our duty and privilege to show them the right way, the way of life, and shall we not do all in our power to send them the gospel? Those of them who know about free and happy America are looking to us for help. Did you ever hear some verses called 'Work in the Zenana'? I can repeat a couple of them."

"'Do you see those dusky faces Gazing dumbly to the West— Those dark eyes, so long despairing, Now aglow with hope's unrest?

"'They are looking, waiting, longing For deliverance and light; Shall we not make haste to help them, Our poor sisters of the night?'"

There was a great deal more talk about India, Mrs. Thurston being besieged with questions, until Ruth feared she would be worn out, and said the meeting had better close.

"Oh! I like to talk about my dear India," said Mrs. Thurston with a tearful smile; "and if it is any help to you all in your work, I am only too willing to give you the help."

"You have helped us ever so much," replied Ruth, "and we are very grateful. I'm sure we shall always feel the greatest interest in that wonderful old India, with its sore need of the gospel."

"Yes," said Almira, "I feel now that every cent of money we can scrape together should be used for India."

"Unfortunately it is not the only needy place in the world," said Miss Mary.

"Well," said Ruth, "we must just work hard and do all we can for heathen lands."

Then they sang several hymns, Hiram and Hugh Campbell having carried Almira's melodeon out to the garden, and closed by repeating the Lord's prayer in concert.

During the singing Mrs. Stokes had slipped away, and Mrs. Ashford and Ruth exchanged smiling glances when they saw her standing by the garden-gate as the friends passed out, insisting that they should take some cookies and drop cakes from a basket she held. She would not hear of the hotel ladies getting into the carriage until they had partaken of the sliced cake and hot tea she had ready for them on the side porch.

"Ah, this is the way you get around it, Mrs. Stokes!" said Ruth.

"Now, Ruth," exclaimed the good woman, "don't you say a word. I a'n't going to have these folks go back home all fagged out when a cup of tea will do 'em good."

"This is another perfectly elegant missionary meeting," said Marty. "I wonder if Edith and the other girls are having as good a time as I am."



CHAPTER XX.

COUSIN ALICE'S ZENANA WORK.

Mr. Ashford came up to the farmhouse about the first of September, and spent a week before taking his family home. So Marty did not arrive in time to be present at the first meeting of the band, but on the third Saturday of the month she was on hand with her budget of news. She had much to hear as well as to tell, and it would take a long time to relate all the missionary experiences of those travelled Twigs. Indeed for several weeks something new was constantly coming up. It would be, "O Miss Agnes, I forgot to tell about such a thing." Or, "I just now remember what I heard at such a place. May I tell it?"

Edith had attended a grand missionary meeting at the seaside, and Rosa had gone with her mother and elder sister to a missionary convention, where she saw and heard several missionaries who were at home for rest, and also several new ones who were going out soon. Others of the girls had attended band meetings where they were visiting, or had joined with other young workers in holding meetings in hotels and cottages. But no one had, like Marty, been present at the forming of a band and helped it start. Nor had they, like her, become well acquainted with a real missionary.

"Oh, I just had the nicest long talks with her!" said Marty, meaning of course Mrs. Thurston. "I could ask her anything I wanted, you know. I even sat in her lap sometimes and hugged her real hard; and she would pat me and smooth my hair with the very same hands that used to do things for the little girls in India."

"How elegant it must have been to have a missionary meeting in that pretty old garden, and such a nice missionary there to tell you things!" said one of the girls.

"It was," replied Marty briefly but fervently.

"Oh, I wish I could help start a band as Marty did!" exclaimed Daisy.

"Perhaps you have helped, though you may not be there to see it start," said Miss Walsh. "Perhaps what you told those little girls from Georgia about our band and missions in general will bear good fruit, and there may be after a while a brand-new band in that far-away Southern town, that little Daisy helped to start."

"Oh, I do hope so," said Daisy, smiling and pressing her hands together.

"I think it would be nice to ask Marty's mountain band to write to our band and tell us what they're doing, and we'll tell them what we're doing," suggested Edith.

"Oh, yes, yes!" cried some of the girls.

After a little talk the suggestion was adopted. They all wanted Marty to be the one to write; but she said, though of course she was going to write to Evaline, she could not write a good enough letter to be read at the band, and would rather Mary Cresswell wrote. Miss Walsh decided that would be the better way, as Mary was so much older and more accustomed to writing. It was too much to expect Marty to do.

So Mary wrote a very nice letter—the Twigs were very proud of their bright secretary—inclosing a note of introduction from Marty. In course of time a reply was received from Almira thanking them all for their kind interest in the mountain band, and accepting the invitation to enter into a correspondence. This correspondence proved to be very pleasant and profitable to both parties.

What pleased the Twigs particularly was that Almira told them the mountain band was very much indebted to one of their members, and it was likely the band would not have been formed that summer if it had not been for that member's help. Of course she meant Marty.

It must not be supposed Marty had boasted that she had done much towards getting the band organized. She only told in her childish way how it had come about, and the girls could not help seeing she had given all the aid possible.

Some of the other girls heard from members of bands they had met during the summer, and in this way several suggestions of ways of doing things were gathered up and acted upon. Miss Walsh said the whole summer experience had been very helpful.

One of Marty's earliest visits after her return was paid to Jennie in company with Cousin Alice. They found the invalid sitting up in the comfortable rocking-chair, looking very much better. She was overjoyed to see them and had a great deal to say. She was so pleased that she happened to be up, and insisted on showing how she could take the three or four steps necessary to get from the bed to the chair. She told them the doctor said that after a while, if she was very careful, she would be able to walk. "Not, of course, that skippy way you do," she said to Marty, "but to kind o' get along."

She also showed the crocheting she had done, and it was really very well done. As she seemed so much better, Miss Alice asked the doctor if it would hurt her to study a little. He said it would not, and Miss Alice undertook to teach her to read better, so that she could enjoy reading to herself. Jennie was glad of the chance to learn and made good progress, so that by Christmas, when Marty and Edith gave her the Bible they had talked of in the summer, she could read it quite well.

"I think, after a while, when Jennie gets still stronger," said Miss Alice one day at Mrs. Ashford's, "I will teach her something of arithmetic and writing, because she will never be able to go to school, and some knowledge of the kind will be useful to her. I will teach her to sew nicely, too, and when she is older she may be able to earn her living, even if she is lame and delicate."

"What a good work you will be doing, Alice," cried Mrs. Ashford, "if you help a poor, sickly, ignorant child to develop into an intelligent, self-helpful, and I hope Christian woman. Jennie will bless the day she first saw you."

"Ah, but she never would have seen me but for you and Marty. In fact I don't think I should have taken much interest in her if my attention had not been attracted to her by Marty's self-denying gift of that doll."

"And I don't believe I'd have taken much interest in her if it hadn't been for hearing about the poor foreign children at the mission-band," said Marty.

"Everything comes around to the mission-band first or last, doesn't it?" said Cousin Alice, laughing.

"Pretty near everything," replied Marty seriously. "And then there's Jimmy Torrence," she added presently. "I don't believe I'd have been willing to have my ulster pieced for his sake if I hadn't been hearing about those other forlorn children."

She was glad to see Jimmy looking so much brighter and better. Though he did not know he owed his country visit to her, he remembered the cake she had given him and the kind words she had more than once spoken to him, so he often lingered on the stairs to see her as she passed in and out of Mrs. Scott's room, always greeting her with a bright smile.

One Sunday Mrs. Scott made him and his next older sister as clean and respectable as possible, and took them to church with her. The result was, some of the ladies of the church came around to see the Torrences, fitted the older ones out with decent clothes, and gathered them into the Sunday-school.

Soon after this, one afternoon Miss Alice came into Mrs. Ashford's sitting-room, half laughing, and exclaimed as she sank into a chair, "Oh, Marty, how you and your mission work are getting me into business!"

"Why, how?" demanded Marty.

"Oh, those Torrences!" said Miss Alice, still laughing.

"What about them? Do tell us," Marty insisted.

"Well, one day as I was going to see Jennie, I saw the two little girls younger than Jimmy on the stairs, and they did look so cold this kind of weather in their ragged calico frocks, and not much else on. So I just went home, got my old blue flannel dress, bought a few yards of cotton flannel, and took them to Mrs. Torrence to make some comfortable clothes for those poor children. And, Cousin Helen, will you believe it? I found the woman didn't know the first thing about cutting and making clothes!"

"That is very strange," said Mrs. Ashford. "How has she been getting along all this time with such a family?"

"She depends on people giving her things, and on buying cheap ready-made clothing."

"That is very thriftless."

"Yes. But I've heard it is the way so many poor people do. A great many of those women work in factories or shops before they are married, and afterwards, too, sometimes, and they have no time to learn to sew. When I found out about Mrs. Torrence I thought I would offer to show her how to cut and make those things. I thought doing that would be far greater charity than making them for her would be."

"So it would."

"To be sure she goes out washing now and then, but she has time enough to sew other days, as she only has those two little rooms to take care of, and she hasn't been taking much care of them evidently."

"I thought they only had one room," said Marty.

"They have taken another now, as Mr. Torrence has steady work. Father got him a place in a livery stable, and he's not a drinking man, so they ought to get along."

"Well, how did Mrs. Torrence take your offer of help?" asked Mrs. Ashford.

"She did not seem to like it at first. I suspect she thought I ought to make the garments myself. But after a while she came around and—"

"Your pleasant ways would make anybody come around," exclaimed Marty warmly.

"Thanks for the compliment," replied Miss Alice, smiling. "Well, the amount of it is I have been giving her lessons, and she is really beginning to do right well. The little tots look a great deal more comfortable, and now I am going to show her how to alter some of the clothes the Methodist Sunday-school ladies gave her, so that she will have something decent to wear herself."

"I think you are getting into business!" exclaimed Mrs. Ashford. "It is certainly very good of you to take all that trouble. And I should imagine it is not the most comfortable place in the world in which to give sewing or any other kind of lessons. Now Mrs. Scott is different. Her room is always as neat as a pin."

"Oh, yes!" cried Miss Alice, "that reminds me there's more to my story. These sewing lessons are actually making Mrs. Torrence cleaner and more tidy. The first day I went the table was all cluttered up, and when she cleaned it off for me to cut out on she looked rather ashamed of its dinginess, and muttered some excuse as she wiped it over with an old cloth. The next day that table looked as if she had been scrubbing it all night—it was so startlingly clean. She had scrubbed a chair, too, for me to sit on. Then I suppose she thought the clean table and chair put the rest of the room out of countenance, for on my next visit I found the floor had been scrubbed and the windows washed. When I told mother about it she said the woman should be encouraged, and sent her that striped rug that used to be in our dining-room, you remember. It was to spread down before the stove. The result of that was the old stove has been polished up within an inch of its life. Yesterday I took to the children those gay pictures that came last Christmas with the Graphic, and tacked them on to the wall. Now the next time I go I expect to see the walls scoured or whitewashed or something," and Miss Alice finished with a laugh.

"If you keep on you will work quite a change in their way of living," said Mrs. Ashford.

"There's plenty of room yet for improvement," replied her cousin; "for although it must be pretty hard for such a large family to live in such a small space and be cleanly, still they might try to be."

"I should think the narrow space would be bad enough without the dirt."

"Well, things have been and are yet pretty forlorn. But I am glad I have been able to effect a little change for the better."

"But you said I got you into it," said Marty, "and I don't see what I have to do with it, nor what mission work has either."

"I should have told you that one reason I thought of offering this help to Mrs. Torrence is that it may perhaps give me an opportunity to say something to her on religious subjects. She takes no interest in such matters, never goes to church, and only allows her children to go to Sunday-school for what people give them. The Bible-reader of that district tells me that Mrs. Torrence wont listen to her, wont let her go into the room. She is a sullen, ill-natured kind of woman—I mean Mrs. Torrence—and hard to get at. So I thought I might possibly get at her in this way, and your account of missionary ladies going to zenanas to teach fancy-work in order to get a chance to tell the women of God and the Bible, put it into my head that I might try something of the same kind."

"Oh, it is just the same," cried Marty, "except that it's altering and mending instead of fancy-work. How curious it is that zenana work away off in India should make you think of helping a poor woman close by in Landis Court!"

"Have you got Mrs. Torrence to listen to you yet?" asked Mrs. Ashford.

"I haven't ventured to say anything directly to her yet, but I have been talking to the children about the Sunday-school lesson, explaining it to them and teaching them the Golden Text, and their mother is obliged to hear, whether she wants to or not."

"That's just the way Mrs. Thurston says it is in those zenanas," said Marty. "Many of the women at first don't care to listen to good reading and teaching, and want to talk about all sorts of other things, so the missionaries have to work it in the best way they can, and after a while the women get interested and want to hear. It seems as if they couldn't get enough Bible-reading and talk. Maybe that'll be the way with Mrs. Torrence."

"We will hope so," replied Cousin Alice.



CHAPTER XXI.

ROSA STEVENSON'S SISTER.

As Christmas drew near Marty found herself very busy, for besides some little presents she was making for her "own folks," she and her mother set to work to mend some of her old toys, to dress some new cheap dolls, and to make a few picture-books of bright pretty cards pasted on silesia and yellow muslin, for the little Torrences and other poor children they knew of.

Edith, also, was engaged in the same way, and the little girls often worked together.

Though they had received some money on their birthdays, they concluded to wait until Christmas to give Jennie her Bible, as everybody appeared to think it would be a very suitable Christmas gift for her. They got Mrs. Ashford to go with them to buy it, and with her aid succeeded in getting a very nice one, good size, clear print, and pretty cover, for the money they had set aside for the purpose.

Their mothers gave them permission to run down the afternoon before Christmas to carry the Bible to Jennie, as there would not possibly be time to go Christmas day when there was so much going on. They were to call and ask Cousin Alice to go with them; but when they stopped at her house they found she had already gone over to Landis Court, but had left word for them if they came to follow her.

When they arrived at Mrs. Scott's room they found Miss Alice very busy indeed, hanging up some wreaths of green and otherwise decorating the room. She was hurrying to get it all in order before Mrs. Scott returned from her work, as it was to be a surprise to her. Jennie, sitting in the rocking-chair with the doll in her arms, was watching the operation with the greatest interest, every now and then exclaiming, "Oh, that's splendid! What'll mother say to that!"

When Marty and Edith appeared something else seemed to occur to her, and turning from the decorations she cried eagerly to them, "Oh, did you get—!" and then glancing at Miss Alice, covered her mouth with her hand, laughed very much, but would not finish what she had begun to say.

She nearly went wild over the beautiful Bible and could hardly thank the givers enough.

"And I can read it my own self too, 'cepting of course the long words," she said. "How queer it'll be to be sitting up reading a chapter to mother 'stead of her reading to me!"

"You might read to her those Christmas verses in Luke to-morrow that I read to you not long ago," Miss Alice suggested.

"Oh! I will. Where are they, I wonder?" said Jennie.

Edith found the place, while Marty snipped off a little bit of her blue hair-ribbon for a mark.

Some cakes and fruit Mrs. Howell and Mrs. Ashford sent Jennie were also highly appreciated. They had also sent some small but useful and pretty presents for her mother, which Jennie was to have the pleasure of giving to her. Thus they all tried to bring some Christmas joy into the poor little girl's life.

When Marty and Edith went home they each found a small parcel that Jimmy Torrence had left for them. They contained nicely crocheted bureau-covers for their dolls' houses, and were marked in Miss Alice's handwriting, "For Marty, from Jennie," and "For Edith, from Jennie."

"Ah! this was the secret she had with Cousin Alice," exclaimed Marty. "Just look mamma! isn't it a pretty cover?"

Edith was equally pleased with hers, and Jennie seemed much pleased with their hearty thanks.

"I really believe she enjoyed making and giving those little things more than any other part of Christmas," said Miss Alice. "I suppose it made her feel as if she was in the Christmas times."

Marty never enjoyed any Christmas season so much as this one, when she worked so hard to give happiness to the poor. She had her temptations to overcome, too; for when the stores were filled with beautiful things that she would like to buy for herself or her friends, it was very hard to keep from entrenching on the money she had saved up for a special Christmas missionary offering. But her year's training in missionary giving had not gone for nothing, and she was able to make a missionary offering a part of her Christmas celebration.

The members of the band had not forgotten the talk they had had over Mrs. C——'s letter, when they resolved to try very hard to double their usual amount. The most of them were trying, and the sum was "rolling up," the treasurer said. Whether or not they would succeed in what they were aiming at, remained to be seen, but Miss Walsh encouraged them by saying that they would certainly come much nearer success by making continual efforts than by making no effort at all.

One morning when the holidays were over, and the little girls were on their way to school, Edith had a great piece of news to tell.

"What do you think!" she said. "Rosa Stevenson's grownup sister is going away next month to be a missionary!"

"Is she really?" exclaimed Marty.

"Yes; going to Japan, and Miss Agnes has asked her to come to the meeting next Saturday and tell us about it."

The news spread, and the next Saturday every one of the Twigs was there, gazing with wide-open eyes at the fair young girl who was going so far from home to carry the gospel to her ignorant sisters. Sitting there with tearful Rosa's hand clasped in hers, she told the girls that when she was studying in college, God had put it into her heart to carry the tidings of his salvation to the people who knew him not. She said that though it was very hard to leave home and friends, she felt it was her duty and privilege to go, and she was thankful that the way was open for her.

Then she showed them on the map what city she was going to, and told them something of the school in which she was to teach. She promised to write to the band some time, and in closing she earnestly appealed to them to do all they could for missions.

"Even be ready to go yourself if God calls you," she said. "When I was a little girl in a mission-band, saving up pennies and learning about these foreign lands, I never thought that one day I should be going to teach the girls of one of these countries and try to win them to Christ. So there may be some among you whom God will call to this work, and I hope none of you will slight his call, but be ready to do his will in this matter as in all others."

Marty was very deeply impressed by what Miss Stevenson said. She thought it would be a grand thing to go away off as a missionary. She wondered if God would call her to go. She hoped he would. Only she would not wish to go to such a civilized country as Japan; the very worst part of Africa or the wildest part of Asia would be what she would choose.

Her mind was so full of the subject that she did not want to talk about anything else, or to talk at all, and was glad that Edith was going to her aunt Julia's from the meeting, so she could walk home alone. She concluded that as soon as she reached home, she would go into her room and pray that she might be a missionary. Then she could not wait until she got home, and being on a quiet street, she slipped behind a tree-box and offered this little prayer: "Dear Lord, if missionaries are still needed by the time I grow up, I pray thee let me be one. For Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."

She walked in home very soberly for her, and going directly to her mother, asked, "Mamma, should you like me to go away over the seas and be a missionary?"

"No, indeed!" said her mother emphatically. "I should not like it at all. You mustn't think of such a thing."

"But if God calls me to go?" said Marty, with quivering lip.

It would be hard, after all, to leave this dear home. She scarcely knew whether she wanted her prayer answered or not.

"What do you mean?" inquired Mrs. Ashford, drawing her on her lap.

Then Marty told all about the meeting, and what she had been thinking, and how she had prayed to be a missionary.

"I want to be one if God wants me to, but I don't see how I can go away and leave you all," she said, half crying.

"Well," said her mother soothingly, seeing she was trembling with excitement, "we need not talk about it yet. It will be a long time until you are old enough or know enough to go. You will have to go to school many years yet, and then, perhaps, to college, for you know the better missionaries are educated the more good they can do. Then you must learn to make your own clothes and take care of them, and it is well to know a good deal about housekeeping also, for missionaries have to know how to be independent, and be ready for any kind of life. You would hardly be prepared to go before you are twenty, anyway, and that is ten years yet."

"Nine and a half," put in Marty.

"In the meantime you can be doing as much as possible for missions at home."

"Yes," said Marty, wiping her eyes and looking comforted, "that's so. We needn't think of my going away yet, and I s'pose the right way is to do as Miss Agnes says. She says the best way in mission work, as in everything else, is just to do the nearest thing and do it as well as we possibly can, and then be willing to let God lead us along from one step to another."

"She is certainly right," said Mrs. Ashford.

"I have taken some steps since Edith got me started, haven't I? I've learned a good deal about missions, and I find it a great deal easier to give money regularly now than when I began. Don't you remember how at first I either wanted to give every cent I had or else not to give anything? But I found out that wasn't the best way to do."

"And another thing," said Mrs. Ashford, "you have been the means of some of the rest of us taking steps. Seeing how well your systematic giving is working, I have started in to do the same way."

"Oh! have you, mamma?" exclaimed Marty. "Are you going to have a box for tenths? How delightful!"

"No, not a box—my square Russia-leather pocketbook. And not tenths exactly, but what you call the New Testament way."

"That's just lovely!" said Marty, caressing her. "I'm so glad. So we'll both be mission workers the rest of our lives, wont we?"

"With God's help, we will," replied her mother.

"And p'r'aps dear little Freddie will begin, too, when he gets old enough. You know there are boy bands. But where is Freddie? He was here when I came in."

Just then a high-pitched little voice from the next room called, "Whoop! Marty!"

"There he is. I wonder what sort of a funny place he's hiding in this time," said Marty, laughing and running to see.

Freddie had taken one of his papa's large handkerchiefs out of the lower drawer of the bureau, and spreading it out over his head was standing in the middle of the room, hiding. How he laughed when Marty found him!

Soon after Mrs. Ashford and Marty began studying the Bible with the help of the concordance, they agreed that it would be pleasant to read a chapter together every night before Marty went to bed. Sometimes she was too sleepy to read more than a few verses, but generally she tried to get ready in good time so that she would be wide enough awake to read a whole chapter, unless it was a very long one.

They were reading in Luke's Gospel now, but the evening of this day Marty said,

"Mamma, mayn't we read that chapter that has in it, 'Here am I; send me'? Miss Stevenson read that verse to us to-day when she was talking about us going, any of us. Do you know where it is?"

"I think I can find it pretty easily," Mrs. Ashford replied. "I know it is in Isaiah. Here it is—the sixth chapter."

They read it, and the eighth verse coming to Marty, she read slowly and reverently,

"Also I heard the voice of the Lord saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me."

After they had finished reading, she said,

"I think that is a very hard chapter. The only verses in it that I understand are this one where it says, 'Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts,' and the eighth verse about 'Whom shall I send?'"

"Well," said her mother, "if you understand those two, they will give you plenty to think of, and when you are older you will be able to understand more."

After a moment's silence Marty said,

"You were saying a while ago that I'd have to go to school and learn a great deal before I could be a missionary. I s'pose I'll have to study the Bible a great deal too."

"Oh, of course. I didn't mention that particularly, because I took it for granted you would know that any one who undertakes to show others the way of life must know the way herself, and the Bible is the book that points out that way. You remember Jesus says, 'Search the Scriptures; they are they which testify of me.'"

"But how am I ever to learn? Some people seem to know just where everything is, all the verses that explain other verses, and so on. They can so easily find something in the Old Testament that exactly fits into something in the New Testament. I often wonder how they do it."

"They love the Word of God, study it, and pray over it."

"I want to love it too," said Marty, pressing her face against the open Bible on her mother's knee. "Whether I'm a missionary or not, I want to be a Christian and do some work for the Lord."



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Transcriber's note:

The original spelling of "wont" for "won't" was retained.

Punctuation was corrected where appropriate.

Captions for the illustrations were created by the transcriber.

THE END