s not acclimated to this special kind of humour. But
Clifford was so absolutely frank, and happy, so free from any hint of
heartbreak or trouble, that the more Bauer listened to him the more he
liked him and the more fascinated he became with his peculiar
surroundings. He had never known any real Christian people except the
Douglas family, and the spectacle of the genuine self sacrifice, the
bearing of daily discomfort and pain and wrong, with such cheerfulness
and even hilarity, moved him with a feeling of astonishment.

Clifford's description of Miss Gray filled Bauer with wonder that a
young woman of such character and attainments was willing to go to such
a place and give her life to the seemingly impossible task of
Christianising a lot of dirty, superstitious, lazy Indians. That was his
definition of her task and of the people whom she had come to serve. But
he had not yet learned even the first short lesson of the attractiveness
of the missionary call. And he had not even a glimmer of the great fact
that the history of missions in every age reveals the beautiful fact
that some of earth's choicest spirits have considered missionary work as
the most honourable and honouring work in the world, and that no grace
or strength of mind or body is too great to pour it all out unstintedly
on just such dirty, unattractive beings as Indians. Bauer was destined
to begin by pitying a mistake which such a young woman as Miss Gray was
making, and end by envying her the place which she had made for herself
in the hearts of these neglected people.

He was silent during a period while Clifford was busy with some part of
his harness demanding his attention, then Clifford said, after whistling
a bar of "Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go":

"Any more of our folks you want ante mortem epitaphs of?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Masters. Of course I've not seen them. I've heard Mr. and
Mrs. Douglas speak of them. It was through Mr. Douglas, you know, that I
came out here."

"Yes, the Douglases are good friends of the mission. Mr. Douglas sends
us two hundred dollars a year and sometimes as high as four hundred and
twenty. Wish he'd come out here and bring his family. Hasn't he got a
daughter by the name of Helen?"

"Yes," said Bauer. And try as hard as he would he could not conceal his
embarrassment.

"Do you know her? Is she a nice girl?"

"Yes," said Bauer, again blushing deeply. And then he hastened to say,
quickly for him:

"You were g