Japanese food and sleeping on the floor, the missionary returns to his home, to the laugh of his own children, to a foreign mattress and Irish potatoes. The missionary's home and what it contains stand for more than a dwelling. In miniature, it is his only representation of his native land and life. Here he breathes his own atmosphere. Here he can do and speak as he pleases. Hitherward, when oppressed by the prevalent idolatry, when touched by a feeling of pity, because of scenes of poverty and sin, he can flee as to a city of refuge. "Home, sweet home" has a large meaning and a peculiar charm in a foreign land.

However, there are croakers who set other frogs croaking if an oil painting, an Estey organ, an easy couch, or a window adorned with potted plants is found in a missionary's home. A lady from the United States once dined in a mission home which had pheasant for dinner. The pheasant in that part of Japan cost ten cents, and a chicken would have cost fifty cents. The lady, who had received freely of the hospitality of the missionary, returned to America and said that she believed less in missions than ever because of the extravagance of the missionaries. In New York City a pheasant toque hat costs twenty-five dollars. In China, where a certain missionary lived, pheasants were on sale for five cents. apiece. A wealthy man in the States, who was supporting this missionary, asked him to give the items he had had for dinner on a certain day. As pheasant happened to be their meat item on that particular day, the ignorant rope-holder dropped the missionary and his support.

The missionary who resides in a Japanese house may be fairly comfortable if glass doors and windows are set in place of the airy paper or wooden doors; if heavy paper is spread under the straw mats and if oilcloth is placed upon the halls to keep out the damp and cool winds of winter. He may have his stoves, but the pipes must be supported by wiring them to upright poles

placed in the ground. I cannot forget going into a missionary's home in north Japan during the month of January. It was a Japanese house, heated, to be sure, by stoves, but the cold air found easy access, so that you could see your breath in every room. In the sitting room was a cradle; there was a little pillow; there were the tiny spreads and the dainty ribbons attractively hung. Love had been busy and anticipation ran high awaiting Heaven's best gift. And when it came, the young mother would not have exchanged her home for a palace.

The problems connected with child life and their education are most complex on the mission field. The mother must be school teacher, seamstress, and hostess for frequent guests and many callers. Mission Boards should have combined long ago in the establishment of schools in every great field, for the education of the children of missionaries. Large sums are spent for the education of aliens from the kindergarten to the university. Occasionally a family will retire from the field for the education of the children rather than face the problems of separation and limited income.

There are some things, however, which are gained by the general lack of educational facilities. The children gain by being with parents in their tender years. The parents gain from the cheer of child life and the smiles which help to banish the loneliness of isolation. Again, the community about the missionary's home gains because there in their midst stands the silent and potent influence of a Christian home. The children of missionaries reflect the lives of their parents, with whom they are thrown so exclusively. They pick up the Japanese language readily and are frequently found imitating the manners and customs of their surroundings. Though foreign born, they have every mark of the home-born child. Especially in theology are they precocious.

A little girl, during her blessing at the noon meal, said,

"Lord bless these potatoes, and help them to be thankful to us for eating them." A little boy, far in the interior of Japan, at his evening prayer, always named a long list of persons upon whom he would solicit the Divine favour. One evening he closed his prayer thus: "And Lord bless the Buddhists and help us to wipe them off the face of the earth." Two little boys in Tokyo had been forbidden to make purchases on the Lord's Day. Shortly after they came home on the forbidden day with a sack of bananas. They became penitent and knelt to ask for forgiveness. After a joint confession, one thus concluded: "But, Lord, we thank you for that nice ripe banana you let us eat on the way home." A child now in his teens, when about seven years old had a discussion with another boy who had been reared in India. The debate settled upon the nationality of God. The boy from India, raised under British influence, declared that God was an Englishman. The other boy said he was American. The discussion waxed hot and hotter until the mothers interceded to save them from blows. Two little girls on Sunday were at play hauling stones. Their mother reminded them that it was Sunday, but they surmounted the difficulty by saying: “But, mamma, we are playing it is Saturday."

Missionaries sometimes bring out their furniture from the United States. If they do not, they must buy at second-hand stores or depend upon furniture made to order. The import duty is very high, hence an invoice and cost of any articles, new or old, should be reported both to the Consul and the Receiving Agent at the port of entry. Clothes, quilts, books, pictures, nicknacks, and kitchen utensils should always be brought. Any missionary in Japan could put to good use, if he had them, a phonograph, a kodak, a typewriter, a bicycle, a magic lantern, a sewing machine, and a musical instrument. They can be bought in Japan, but if already in possession, they should be brought.

Missionaries, as a rule, have servants. We have two in our home. The girl has been with us twelve years, the man ten. They became Christians in our own home. They are married now, and have a sweet little boy who calls me his good papa. These two servants of ours have their own servant to take care of the boy. Servants in Japan are as thick as flies. It is a poor Japanese indeed who cannot have a servant. A boy who called the other day said that there were three in the Japanese family where he served, but they had only five servants. Go to a store and buy ten yards of muslin. You order from the clerk, he orders his assistant, and the assistant will order his servant, and after waiting and waiting, the bundle is brought, goods measured, cut, tied in a package, change brought, and so forth. Time consumed, ten minutes. We pay our servants, all told, twelve dollars and a half a month, and they feed and clothe themselves. They do our washing, ironing, buying, cooking. They save us more than their pittance amounts to every month; they save our nerves and time, so that we are free to give ourselves to the work for which we were really sent. No mastiff could be more faithful than our male servant. He goes on errands, sends telegrams, is the escort of the wife and children at night, and a handy man for anything all day long. I was in a palatial home not long ago, in the United States, furnished with mahogany furniture, velvet carpets, silverware, lace curtains, etc. The owners had an automobile, horses and carriages, a telephone, a laundry near by, a grocer, a baker, and candlestick maker. Yet the dear wife of this home could not even afford one servant! (Took their meals across the way). And you ask, pray tell us how can a missionary afford servants? Well, that belongs to the mysteries of the Orient.

The missionary's home serves as an auditorium for all sorts of gatherings, sewing classes, cooking classes, and religious meetings for women; sometimes the whole

church will gather for a social; sometimes there is the celebration of a marriage; sometimes there are classes for inquirers and classes for the study of English. At all times, day or night, the door must be open for callers. Sometimes it is a fellow-worker who has called for consultation and sometimes it is a Christian who has called for a word of encouragement; sometimes an earnest seeker comes to be courted to the narrow way; sometimes it is a stranger comes as on an exploring expedition, or investigation of the foreigner and his ways. A great deal of precious time is wasted in this way, yet sometimes a few hours seemingly spent in vain bring in big returns.

One night a friend called with two young men whom he introduced as his acquaintances. They came about 4:30 P.M., stayed to supper, and tarried till after nine o'clock. They had learned about Christianity and had the beginnings of faith, but they had not come to the point of a full surrender to Christ. We wasted no time on ordinary civilities. We turned at once to the Scriptures and read many portions of the Acts of the Apostles. We knelt and prayed together. They were very much in earnest and wanted to receive baptism that night. It was a wintry night and a steady rain had been falling for some hours. Notwithstanding, we went down to a riverside and there, in the rain, by the light of a lantern held under an umbrella, I baptized those two boys. One was the son of a wealthy man. He is to-day one of Japan's most successful and bold evangelists. The other boy entered college to prepare for the ministry. He no doubt would be preaching to-day had not consumption driven him from school back to the mild climate of his father's house.