“God knew where to send girls; He knew who would be good to them,” Mrs. Stone assured the neighbours who had come to condole with her on the birth of a second daughter, and to remind her that “ten queenly daughters are not worth as much as one son with a limp.”  Years before, when the baby’s father, one of the literati, had lost all his property in the Tai Ping Rebellion, he had adopted the profession of teaching Chinese to the missionaries, as the only dignified means by which one of his rank and learning could earn a living.  While he taught them Chinese characters, they taught him about Christianity, and it was not long before he was in charge of a Christian chapel in Kiukiang.  So when this little daughter was born, she was given the good old Bible name of Anna, and great plans were laid for her future.  While she was still a tiny baby her mother carried her to the missionary in charge of the girls’ boarding school, one of those to whom her father had taught the Chinese language years before, and said to her, “As soon as this baby is old enough, I want you to take her and train her for Christian work.”

If she was to fulfil her mother’s ambition for her Anna must of course receive an education, although a girl who could read or write even the simplest sentence was then almost unknown in China.  But Mrs. Stone knew well that the more education Anna had, the more efficient a worker she would be.  She herself had never been taught at all, and after she had become a Christian and was eager to tell other women of the good news which she had learned, she had found herself sadly hampered because she could not read the Bible.  It was not so difficult when her husband was at home to read it for her; but while he was away on his preaching tours, she had lost many opportunities of teaching Christianity to the women who came to see her, because of her inability to read the Book which told of the great new truth she had learned.  So, busy as she was with her babies and her household cares, she determined to learn to read, and asked her husband to teach her.

Pastor Stone, however, had still something to learn.  He did not believe that it was possible for the feminine mind, especially that of a woman grown, to learn the difficult Chinese characters; and he told his wife that, in his opinion, it was not worth while for her to attempt it.  If Mother Stone was discouraged she did not show it.  Every night after the rest of the family were asleep she set a candle beside her bed and studied characters diligently.  Whenever Pastor Stone woke up for a moment, or turned over in bed, he would receive a gentle nudge and Mother Stone would delightedly exclaim, “Oh, father, won’t you please tell me what this character is?” He soon decided to teach her in orthodox fashion, and she proved to be such an apt pupil that it was not long before she was in charge of a little day school for girls.