Babel of languages. The opening exercises were in English, after
which was the sermon, delivered in English but translated into the
Nisqually language, and a prayer was offered in the same manner.
At the close of the service, two infants were baptized in English,
when followed the Communion services in English. At this there were
twelve white members of the Congregational church here, and one
Indian; also two white members of the Protestant Methodist church,
one Cumberland Presbyterian, and one other Congregationalist;
there were also about seventy-five Indians as spectators. The
Sabbath School was held soon after, seventy-five being present.
First, there were four songs in the Chinook language, accompanied
by the organ and violin; then three in English. The prayer was
in Nisqually, and the lesson read in English, after which the
lessons were recited. Three classes of Indian boys, two of Indian
girls, and two of white children were instructed in English; one
class of Indian children was talked to partly in English and
partly in Chinook. There is one Bible class of Indian men who can
understand English, a part of whom can read and a part cannot,
and another of about forty Indians, whose teacher talks English,
but an interpreter translates it into Nisqually, and then he does
not reach some Indians of the Clallam tribe who are present. Next
followed a meeting of the Temperance Society, as six persons wished
to join—a white man who can write his name and five Indians who
touch the pen while the Secretary makes the mark. Three of these
are sworn in English and two in Chinook. The whole services are
interspersed with singing in English and Chinook.
[Illustration: INDIANS SPEAKING ACROSS A CHASM.]
On the trip to an Indian logging camp one evening, to hold a
meeting, my companion and myself found the tide up so high that we
had to “coon” the logs, as they were rolling in the water, in the
dark, wade a part of the time, and improvise a lantern out of cedar
sticks split up rather fine.
A Sabbath day’s work appears as follows: Began services with the
Indians at Jamestown about ten o’clock, which continued until
half-past twelve; then returned three-quarters of a mile to my
boarding-place, went into the cupboard and took a very little
lunch in my hands; walked four miles or more to Dunginess, where
I preached to the whites at two o’clock, without even a chair or
anything to sit down on; walked back two miles to the house of
a friend, where I sang and played on the organ about all of the
time, except while eating supper, until half-past six or seven,
when I walked back to Jamestown and held services from eight to ten
o’clock—thus walking thirteen miles, besides holding service over
five hours, and singing an hour or two.
The variety of one trip of about two hundred miles is recorded
thus: As to food, have done my own cooking, eaten dry crackers
only for meals, been boarded several days for nothing and bought
meals. As to sleeping, have stayed in as good a bed as could be
given me, free of cost, and slept in my own blankets in an Indian
canoe, because the houses of the whites were too far away and the
“phleeze” were too thick in the Indian houses. They were bad enough
in the canoe, but the Indians would not allow me to go further
away for fear that the panthers would catch me. As to work, have
preached, held prayer meetings, done pastoral work, helped clean
up the streets of an Indian village, been carpenter and painter,
dedicated a church, performing all the parts, been organist,
studied science, acted as agent, taken hold of law, in a case where
whiskey had been sold to an Indian, and in a will. As to traveling,
have been carried ninety miles in a canoe by Indians, free, paid
an Indian four dollars for carrying me twenty miles, was carried
twenty miles on a steamer at half fare and twenty more on another
for nothing; rode horseback, walked fifty miles, and “paddled my
own canoe” for forty-five miles.
A note is made of some people very hungry for preaching. One
lady just recovering from sickness was hardly able to walk
three-quarters of a mile to church, and as they had no horse her
husband took her on a wheelbarrow more than half the way. An
old lady, seventy-six years of age, walked over three miles to
church where the services were mainly for the Indians, then a mile
further, where the preaching was for the whites, and then returned
home.
* * * * *
INDIANS AT HAMPTON.
BY REV. H. B. FRISSELL.
Our communion on Sunday was very interesting. There were added to
the church four colored students and three Indian boys. These three
are representatives of three different tribes. One of them was
an Apache. He came to us sixteen months ago with no knowledge of
Christ, and none of God, with the exception of what he had gained
from an old medicine man. He told me that God was like the wind
that came in at one window and went out at the other. He has been
very earnest in his study of the Bible and has come to my study
night after night when he had had a hard day’s work and an evening
study hour that he might read the Bible with me. Not long ago he
told me he wished to pray in meeting and asked me if I would write
out what he wanted to say. So I took my pen and after long pauses
he told me what he wanted to say to God. I wrote it down just as he
gave it to me. He has carried it away to learn so that he may take
part in our weekly meeting in English. The other two boys have come
to me twice before and asked to join the church but I have told
them to wait. But now it seemed as though they could wait no longer
and they were glad to profess their faith in Christ.
THE CHINESE.
* * * * *
THE PENALTY OF PROSPERITY.
BY REV. W. C. POND.
Our schools were never before so prosperous as during the last six
or eight months. Each successive budget of monthly reports showed a
larger enrolment and a larger average attendance, in the aggregate,
than had ever been secured before. Notwithstanding that we have
closed our schools in Oroville during these hot months, and have
given a month’s vacation to the Berkeley school, the reports for
June call for their superlatives as cheeringly as did those of
April or of May. The rolls for June showed the names of 908 Chinese
pupils, and the average attendance was 437. During the ten months
now past of the present fiscal year, no less than 2,152 Chinese
have been enrolled as members of our schools, and thus, for longer
or shorter periods, have been brought to hear something of the true
God and the only Saviour. Many have been with us but a short time,
but not one, I believe, has failed to get some new idea which, it
would seem, must have set him to thinking, and thus may prove to be
in him the seed of the everlasting life.
But what is the “_penalty_” of all this? and why should there be
any penalty for it? The penalty is a depleted treasury, and the
reason for this is the unavoidably increased expenditure. How many
of our readers know what it is to have more than $1,600 coming due,
and less than $600 at command? As many as have had this experience
will understand the penalty I am just now called to suffer. I
_could_ not turn the dark souls away from what seemed to be for
them the only possible path to light, and I could not bid them
welcome without increasing our corps of laborers. I could not add
new workers without adding some new bills. The increase of expense
is not at all proportioned to the increase in work fulfilled, for
while we have reached nearly 40 per cent. more Chinese than we did
in any preceding year, the expense will be greater by only about 10
per cent. But I have been working all these years up to the utmost
limit of our resources, and now, towards the close of this fiscal
year—the annual appropriation from the parent society exhausted and
the gifts of most of our regular contributors already used—it comes
to pass that that 10 per cent. extra begins to be felt, and as the
mission purse gets lighter your superintendent’s heart gets heavier
with thoughts and plans and cares.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” some of my readers are
asking. I answer, first of all, I mean to pray. Nothing else ever
availed in my experience to replenish a depleted treasury, like
appealing to the Giver of all good. He knows the work; He gave the
opportunity; He has, many times before this, verified His promise,
and answered my prayer. I mean to trust Him; ask His counsel and
His help, and so _move on_. While His pillar of cloud and of fire
goes before us, we need never be dismayed. “Difficulties will be
removed, in proportion as it is necessary that they should be
removed.” But I do not mean to stop with prayer. That is Müller’s
way, and, in his case, it succeeds. When he was consulted as to
the failure of others who wrought on his plan, it is said that he
replied: “They were not so called.” Every man according to his own
calling. For myself, I read the promise thus: “Ask, and it shall
be given you; _seek, and ye shall find_.” And so I feel called to
follow up my asking with seeking, and to enter every door that my
master causes to be opened to my knock. That is just what I am
doing now, in writing this paragraph. It may not reach all our
readers till after our fiscal year has closed; but the books can be
kept open till October 1, and gifts sent to make up what is now
lacking, will be gratefully acknowledged, and most carefully used.
THE CENTRAL SCHOOL.
This is held at the Central Mission house, in this city—the
headquarters of our whole work. The building is admirably located
for our purposes, and though always felt to be too small for the
most effective service, has nevertheless answered our purpose
tolerably well. As long as the attendance on the school did
not exceed 125, it was possible to move about easily in the
school-room, and by careful attention to ventilation, to keep the
atmosphere tolerably pure. But last month the _average_ attendance
was 185, and the largest attendance on any one evening was no less
than 260! Of course even standing room was at a premium. To move
about in such a mass; to attempt anything like classification; to
give to each pupil his portion of instruction, taxed the energy,
patience and skill of the teachers to the utmost. Jee Gam declares
that if we had room enough and teachers enough, we could have 300
pupils in this school every evening.
One reason for this throng of pupils, (and I am glad to say that
a like cause of prosperity exists in all our schools) is that we
have now so excellent a corps of teachers and of Chinese helpers—so
faithful, so devoted and enthusiastic—and, generally, so well
fitted for the work. About this I trust there may be nothing
temporary. Another fact,—which may not always operate so strongly
as now—and which tends specially to fill up the Central school, is
the great influx of Chinese now going on at this port. When the
new law goes into operation, this will be checked, at least, for a
time. Hastened, doubtless, by the passage of this law nearly 25,000
Chinese have come in at this port within less than six months,—a
number equal to one-fourth of the entire Chinese population in the
whole country at the beginning of this year. This multitude will
rapidly scatter, moving wherever a demand for their labor attracts
them, and then the pressure at this spot will be lessened, but the
work will remain to be done; 25,000 more of these blood-bought
souls, to be brought to a knowledge of their Redeemer; 25,000 more
out of whom to gather messengers of salvation, heralds of the
gospel of Christ’s dying love and living power to the myriads ready
to perish in their native land.
I am sorry to say that my faith in the possibility of securing
in any way a more commodious building for this school and for a
head-quarters for our entire work, is not strong. Perhaps this is
the reason why the oft-repeated petitions of our teachers for more
room, remain without response. “According to your _faith_” it is
said, “be it unto you.” One lady at the East, self-prompted, or
prompted of God, has added to many a previous kindness, a donation
of $100, to be used for this enlargement when it shall become
possible. One member of the Executive Committee of the A. M. A.,
who has visited our quarters, and seen something of the need, has
hinted that the easiest way to get relief would be to ask for the
necessary fund to buy or build. I ventured to infer that if this
request should be made, his generous heart and ever-open hand would
help the matter on. It would be much that thus we could save to our
work $1,200 per annum now paid for rent. This sum would keep _five_
teachers in the field for a full year. And then we should have a
building suited to our needs, large enough and light enough, open
enough to the pure air of heaven, to speak for itself a welcome
and to bear in itself a blessing to these crowds of needy souls.
Fifteen thousand dollars would secure this—a place where (if the
predictions of our wisest helpers may be trusted) 300 _young men_,
born in the depths of heathenism, could be brought every day of
every week throughout each coming year, to sit at Jesus’ feet and
hear his word. And a sum much less than that would put my faith
concerning it at that mustard-seed point at which our Saviour
assures us “nothing shall be impossible to you.”
[Illustration: YAKUT VILLAGERS.]
CHILDREN’S PAGE.
* * * * *
ONE BOY WHO GREW UP IN A COTTON PATCH.
BY MISS LAURA A. PARMELEE.
His name is Frank, his cotton patch is in Mississippi, near the
Sunflower River, and he is teaching school in that neighborhood
at this very time. Although he is quite grown, he is not so tall
as his highest cotton stalk, and doesn’t look a bit as if he had
a story. It is not an uncommon story, and might be true of a good
many Williams, or Henrys, or Johns. That is why I am so particular
to tell you his name and where he lives.
Most of his time was spent in the field, but he ate and slept
in a rough log-cabin of one room. The chimney was built outside
of the cabin, and was made of sticks and clay. The one window
was a board shutter, swinging on leather hinges. Two beds, a
table, a few dishes, two or three pots and kettles, three or four
leather-bottomed chairs and a barrel of meal furnished the house.
Poor as the building was, a good mother’s love made it a dear home
to her little children. Roses and honeysuckles bloomed around the
door all summer, and in summer and winter the white sand was swept
clean with brooms made of twigs tied together. Health and work gave
appetites for the fried bacon and hoe-cake that furnished the daily
meals. Baked sweet potatoes with pones and greens were sometimes
added to their bill of fare.
There was no father to provide for the family, so the little ones
must try the harder to care for themselves. When Frank was scarcely
more than a baby, he followed his mother and sisters to the field
and pulled trash; that is, pulled up old stalks and sticks for
burning, to clear the fields ready for the plow, and, after the
furrow was prepared, little fingers dropped the fuzzy gray seed
into the soft earth.
By the time he was five years old, Frank had his own light hoe and
“chopped cotton” almost all day. When the feeble plants had been
cut up and the strong ones cleared of weeds, there was the corn
to be hoed and the melon patch to be attended to. In August the
fleecy white fibre had pushed itself out of the green bolls and
the pickers must go to work. With a large bag tied around his neck
and shoulders, Frank went up and down the cotton patch, his nimble
fingers pulling the feathery cotton from its casings. Carefully as
he gleaned each bush, no sooner had the field been once picked than
other bolls unlocked their treasures, and again and again he must
go over the same ground. Sometimes Christmas came before the crop
was all gathered, and in January the fields must be cleared once
more for plowing. Playtime never seemed to come to Sunflower River.
To plow, pick cotton, roll logs and build rail fences—was that all
of life? Frank wondered about it.
Two Sabbaths in the month the family went to the little brown
meeting-house that nestled under the trees down by a spring of
sweet water. No bell called the people, yet they came, on foot,
on horseback, in wagons from miles around. Four or five hundred
gathered in and around the church. Three or four preachers would
occupy the rude pulpit, and often the services did not close until
sunset. Some of the ministers could not read a word; some barely
read the text and lined out the hymns. They said a great deal about
“The green hill far away
Without a city’s wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified,
Who died to save us all.”
And as Frank thought of that wonderful scene and how
“Dearly, dearly, He has loved,
And we must love Him too,”
he longed to know more of His life and sayings. Must he wait to
learn of the Saviour’s words—wait until he should meet Him in
heaven?
The questioning found a happy answer when he was about fourteen. A
summer school was started in the neighborhood, and on rainy days
and at odd times he learned the alphabet, to make figures, to form
letters and to read. New thoughts came into his mind, new hopes,
new plans. He heard of a large school up the river where Northern
teachers taught eight months of the year.
One day the good mother was startled with the question, “May I
go to school at Memphis?” She could only answer, “I am too poor
to send you. I can give you nothing but my prayers.” But Frank
believed those prayers were worth more than bales and bales of
cotton, and with a few dollars in his pocket he started for the
city. He was sure that “King Jesus” would have compassion upon him
as He did upon that other young man who “was the only son of his
mother and she was a widow.”
Reaching the strange city, he soon found a Christian gentleman
who wished a boy to wait on the table. “Work for his board and go
to school,” was the good news sent home. One year went by, two,
three and four. Slow but faithful, he was going up in his classes,
winning the respect of school-mates and teachers.
One October, as he re-entered school, he modestly told his teachers
that he had taught during the summer. It was said so quietly that
little heed was paid to it, until another young man came from the
same town and announced that the unostentatious Frank had done a
remarkable work in the way of Sabbath-school, temperance and day
school. No one had thought him able to do anything of the kind.
And these long days, while you are swinging in hammocks and going
to lakes and rivers in the search for cool air, our young friend
is teaching a hundred dusky boys and girls each week day, and
directing the Bible lessons of a much larger number on Sunday. He
writes to ask for S. S. papers, for a temperance text book and for
the prayers of his teacher.
Although he did grow up in a cotton patch, he is a useful man, and
expects to one day see the King in his beauty, in the land that is
very far off.
* * * * *
RECEIPTS FOR JULY, 1882.
* * * * *
MAINE, $218.20.
Brewer. Manly Hardy $50.00
Centre Lebanon. Mrs. O. A. Moody, _for Indian
M._ 5.00
Centre Lebanon. Cong Sab. Sch. 1.35
Dennysville. Mrs. Samuel Eastman 5.00
East Union. David Fowler. 5.00
Hallowell. Teachers and Pupils of Classical
Academy, _for Student Aid, Atlanta U._ 15.00
Kennebunk. Union Ch. and Soc. 22.50
Norway. Mrs. Mary K. Frost 2.00
Oldtown. Cong. Ch. 5.00
Wilton. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 6.35
Windham. Dea. J. T. and Mrs. C. D. 1.00
——————
$118.20
LEGACY.
Brewer. Estate of Miss R. S. Atwood, by Manly
Hardy 100.00
——————
$218.20
NEW HAMPSHIRE, $274.90.
Bedford. Presb. Ch. and Soc. 7.72
Candia Village. Jona Martin 10.00
Concord. South Cong. Ch. 57.77
Derry. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 13.00
Dover. S. N. F. 0.50
East Jaffrey. Mrs. Eliza A. Parker 20.00
Gilsum. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 29.25
Harrisville. W. H. J. 1.00
Merrimack. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 18.40
Nashua. First Cong. Ch. and Soc. 20.20
New Hampton. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 15.10
Pittsfield. Sab. Sch., by Rev. G. E. Hill,
_for Student Aid, Talladega C._ 27.00
Rindge. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 1.50
Seabrook. Mrs. Mary W. Boardman, _for Student
Aid, Atlanta U._ 6.00
Webster. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 17.00
——————
$244.44
LEGACY.
Cornish. Estate of Mrs. Sarah W. Westgate, by
Trustees, to const. JOSHUA B. WELLMAN L. M. 30.46
——————
$274.90
VERMONT, $673.20.
Barre. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 22.27
Bridport. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 22.32
Danville. Cong. Sab. Sch. 10.00
East Poultney. “Friends” 4.00
Hartford. Sab Sch. of Cong. Ch. 8.05
Jamaica. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 11.93
Kirby. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 4.23
Lyndon. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 31.01
Norwich. Mrs. B. B. Newton 5.00
Orwell. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 28.34
Putney. Mrs. S. H. W., _for Student Aid,
Atlanta U._ 1.00
Saint Johnsbury. North Cong Ch. 184.25
Springfield. A. Woolson 250.00
Waterbury. Cong. Ch. and Soc., to const. MISS
FLORA SCEGEL L. M. 30.00
Wells River. 24.82
West Brattleborough. T. Adkins 5.00
West Fairlee. Dea. E. H. Wild, $3; “A Lady,” 40c. 3.40
West Salisbury. Mrs. E. S. 1.00
West Townsend. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 8.30
Windham. Cong. Ch. and Soc. 6.28
Woodstock. William S. Lewis, $10; Harriet E.
Hatch, $2 12.00
MASSACHUSETTS, $13,245.44.