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A VISIT TO A MISSION SUNDAY-SCHOOL.

BY MRS. L.S.  HITCHCOCK.

One Lord’s day, I went out to look after a Sunday-school in which one of our missionaries had become interested, and where she labored part of the year.  The day was excessively warm.  The distance was two miles, and the horse cars would only take me half the way, leaving a walk across the fields for the rest of the trip.  There was no road, and much of the way not even a footpath, and the fields were partly covered with water from the frequent showers.  I got along quite well during the first half of my walk by picking my way, now and then elongating steps, or jumping, generally with satisfactory results.  Presently a place appeared where the water seemed too wide to venture with safety.  There was no possibility of jumping this time, and I was ready to give up in despair, when I discovered at some little distance a log laid across the narrow part of the stream.  I commenced the tight rope walk and was just congratulating myself upon my heroic adventure which, with one step more, would have landed me safely on the other side, when the log tilted and off I went, my knees plowing into the mud making a hole as big as grandma’s workbasket.  I lost no time in getting up.  As I arose, I saw my best parasol and big palm-leaf fan floating along leisurely in the muddy stream.  These were secured later, but with much trouble, and my portmanteau was fished from the hidden deep at the peril of crabs and other biters who make such places homes of retreat.

I called at the nearest cabin, and found “Auntie” with a kind heart ready to undertake the job of “cleaning me up.”  She took in the situation at once, ejaculating, “Lor’, honey! specs Is’e goin ter let yer go ter Sunday-school wid dem ar close all spilt?  Sam, take dem ar shoes and wash em clar fru for Missus.”

In a short time she said, “You’s fine,” and I started for the little church close by, arriving just five minutes before the Sunday-school closed.  I was greeted with “Howdy” by the pastor, who is superintendent, and was requested to speak to the children, while the whole Sunday school, including twenty-six boys and girls, and seven fathers and mothers, rose to their feet, indicating their delight to see me.

I was in time to observe one little boy standing on tiptoe to reach up to the Bible which the minister held open on the table and was teaching him to read.  It was his custom, as he was the only teacher, to call each one separately, and teach him to read, as well as his ignorance would allow.  This is in advance of their old way of conducting Sunday-school.  Formerly, all the instruction received was from Webster’s “blue back,” and, for the closing exercise, they counted from one to a hundred.  The pastor attended school at Straight University during the past year and can read a little, but not intelligently.