lk, and he was to be good and always do his
best.

Ratcliffe has never forgotten that compact he made with Ma. He remembers
well how she loved him and prayed for him, and he believes that her
prayers will be answered. He is now in Liverpool attending a school, and
can go about on crutches with greater ease--sometimes for two and three
hours at a time. He can also use his tricycle better, and enjoys a three
or four-mile ride.

Christine, too, mourned for the loving friend she had never seen, and as
she remembered the black children left motherless and alone she felt
their sorrow and cried their cry, and put it all into the music of a
haunting lament, a beautiful poem, which begins:

She who loved us, she who sought us
Through the wild untrodden bushlands,
Brought us healing, brought us comfort,
Brought the sunlight to our darkness,
She has gone--the dear white Mother--
Gone into the great Hereafter.

Ma's death made her famous. She, who was always hiding herself in life,
was written and talked about and praised everywhere. The story of her
heroism, devotion, and faith made her known and admired in many homes
throughout the world, and so, although she lies in a far-off tropical
land with her hands folded in rest and her lips quiet for ever, she is
still helping and inspiring boys and girls and older people as she did
of old.

She was a puzzling person in many ways. Perhaps her dear friend, Mr.
Macgregor, describes her best when he says, "She was a whirlwind and an
earthquake and a fire and a still small voice, all in one." But what
girls and boys should remember is that she was, from her childhood, a
dreamer of dreams. Not day-dreams which fade away into nothing. Not
dreams of the night which are soon forgotten. But the kind of dreams
which grown-up people sometimes call ideals, dreams that have in them
the purpose of doing away with all that is evil and ugly, and making the
world happier.

Many boys and girls dream dreams, but they do nothing more. Their dreams
are like the clouds that drift across the summer sky and disappear. Miss
Slessor would never have done anything if she had _only_ imagined all
her dreams. If a boy only longs to be a good cricketer or swimmer, he
will never become one. If a girl only thinks about a prize at school,
she will not gain it. If a sculptor or artist only dreams about a
beautiful statue or painting, the world will never have the joy of
seeing them. We ha