"These are they who have come out of great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." I have been assured, by a missionary, whose word no one could doubt, that in a time of scarcity among the Ojibwas, he and his family were sustained by berries, and nothing else, for three weeks; and again for a month on hulled corn. Every barrel of flour cost twenty-nine dollars, carried in bags over the portages by dogs. He stated also, that after great effort, they succeeded in obtaining a cow, which was a rich treasure to the mission family; when a slight quarrel between two warriors, ended in shooting the animal in presence of the missionaries; not however from any ill will to them, but to resent a private injury. The loss was irreparable, but must be born with meekness. Such facts as these, were drawn forth reluctantly, from the happy missionary, who would not exchange his labors for Christ and the per ishing Indians, for all the luxuries with which he was familiar at home. Five hundred miles in the deep forest, far beyond civilization, in a station reached only by footpaths, are brothers and sisters wearing out their strength in these labors, uncheered by the face of a white person, from year to year, who were once cherished as tenderly and as delicately as any one. Rich and glorious will be their reward; but have we nothing to do by way of sympathy and prayer? Let us look and see! CHAPTER XXIX. THE STRANGERS. THE hotel was crowded, the busy season of travel had fairly set in, and all the world was moving by steam. "Young ladies," said the landlord, addressing two strangers who had come from different cars, "I can only accommodate you with one room, to-night, which I regret; but it is large and airy." The young people glanced at each other, but as there was no choice in the matter, proceeded at once to the stairs. 66 "I am so tired, I could sleep on a board," exclaimed the elder of the two, as she threw herself on a lounge, and at the same moment drew out the comb from her beautiful hair, which fell in rich profusion over her shoulders. "So hot, and dusty to-day, and such a stupid ride in the crowded cars." "Indeed," said the younger, whom we shall call Helen, "I have enjoyed it highly. The country is new to me, and the scenery delightful." Saying this, she opened her travelling bag and drew out a small volume, and seating herself by the lamp, on the table, commenced reading, while her companion retired to rest. "What are you reading so earnestly?" said Miss Grey. "It is the Bible," Helen replied. "I am accustomed to read a chapter or two, at night, and the habit is so pleasant, I do not like to omit it while travelling." "The Bible; well it will do very well for Sunday, of course, but I am too sleepy for that, I assure you. I like to take in my travelling basket, a monthly, or volume of Dickens, or something exciting. But you do not pretend to be interested in that old fashioned book?" 66 "I believe I could convince you that I love the Bible better than any book in the world; at all events, it has been my dear companion for many years, and I do not wish to part with it." 66 "Now, do you speak truly?" said Miss Grey. "I always thought people read the Bible, usually as a matter of form, a sort of duty to be got through with. I have heard it read for years in the family, but no one thinks of saying a word about it. If it is so very interesting, why do not people talk about it, as we girls do about the last novel we have read? Nothing I admire so much as to discuss this and that character, and talk over scenes which I read, and this keeps them fresh in memory, you know." "I thought,” replied Helen," that people who truly love the Bible, do exactly that thing. I, too, have heard the Bible read for years, in my father's family, and never without some pleasant conversation. Father reads a few verses, and asks questions, just as freely as he would with any other book. The more difficult ones, mother answers. We all enter into it, from the oldest to the youngest, and then some use |