ps, took out the end,
and then gave girls and boys a biscuit each. To my surprise, they all
stood round, biscuit in hand, but not one beginning to eat.

"What," I exclaimed, "you are dying for biscuits! Why don't you eat? Are
you expecting another?"

One of the eldest said, "We will first thank God for sending us food,
and ask Him to bless it to us all."

And this was done in their own simple and beautiful childlike way; and
then they did eat, and enjoyed their food as a gift from the Heavenly
Father's hand. (Is there any child reading this, or hearing it read, who
never thanks God or asks Him to bless daily bread? Then is that child
not a white Heathen?) We ourselves at the Mission House could very
heartily rejoice with the dear Orphans. For some weeks past our European
food had been all exhausted, except a little tea, and the cocoanut had
been our chief support. It was beginning to tell against us. Our souls
rose in gratitude to the Lord, who had sent us these fresh provisions
that we might love Him better and serve Him more.

The children's sharp eyes had read correctly. It was not the
_Dayspring_. Our brave little ship, as I afterwards learned, had gone to
wreck on 6th January 1873; and this vessel was the _Paragon_, chartered
to bring down our supplies. Alas! the wreck had gone by auction sale to
a French slaving company, who cut a passage through the coral reef, and
had the vessel again floating in the Bay,--elated at the prospect of
employing our Mission Ship in the blood-stained _Tanaka_-traffic (= a
mere euphemism for South Sea slavery)! Our souls sank in horror and
concern. Many Natives would unwittingly trust themselves to the
_Dayspring_ and revenge would be taken on us, as was done on noble
Bishop Patteson, when the deception was found out. What could be done?
Nothing but cry to God, which all the friends of our Mission did day and
night, not without tears, as we thought of the possible degradation of
our noble little ship. Listen! The French Slavers, anchoring their prize
in the Bay, and greatly rejoicing, went ashore to celebrate the event.
They drank and feasted and reveled. But that night a mighty storm arose,
the old _Dayspring_ dragged her anchor, and at daybreak she was seen
again on the reef, but this time with her back broken in two and for
ever unfit for service, either fair or foul. Oh, white winged Virgin,
daughter of the waves, better for thee, as for thy human sisters, to die
and pass away