anded. Don't you call that energy?"

"There is energy wherever he is," said Mrs. Caxton.

"Yes, you know him pretty well. I suppose they never have it so cold
out there as we have it to-night," Mr. Morrison said rubbing his hands.
"It's stinging! That fire is the pleasantest thing I have seen to-day."

"Where is Mr. Rhys stationed?"

"I forget--one of the islands down there, with an unintelligible name.
Horrid places!"

"Is the place itself disagreeable?" Eleanor asked.

"The place itself, ma'am," said Mr. Morrison, his face stiffening from
its genial unbent look into formality as he turned to her,--"the place
itself I do not understand to be very disagreeable; it is the character
of the population which must make it a hard place to live in. They are
exceedingly debased. Vile people!"

"Mr. Rhys is not alone on his station?" said Mrs Caxton.

"No, he is with Mr. and Mrs. Lefferts. His letters will tell you."

For the letters Mrs. Caxton was evidently impatient; but Mr. Morrison's
refreshment had first to be attended to. Only fair; for he had come out
of his way on purpose to bring them to her; and being one of a certain
Committee he had it in his power to bring for her perusal and pleasure
more than her own letters from Mr. Rhys, and more than Mr. Rhys's own
letters to the Committee. It was a relief to two of the party when Mr.
Morrison's cups of tea were at last disposed of, and the far-come
despatches were brought out on the green table-cloth under the light of
the lamp.

With her hand on her own particular packet of letters, as if so much
communication with them could not be put off, Mrs. Caxton sat and
listened to Mr. Morrison's reading. Eleanor had got her work. As the
particular interest which made the reading so absorbing to them may
possibly be shared in a slight degree by others, it is fair to give a
slight notion of the character of the news contained in those closely
written pages. The letters Mr. Morrison read were voluminous; from
different persons on different stations of the far-off mission field.
They told of difficulties great, and encouragements greater; of their
work and its results; and of their most pressing wants; especially the
want of more men to help. The work they said was spreading faster than
they could keep up with it. Thousands of heathen had given up
heathenism, who in miserable ignorance cried for Christian instruction;
children as wild as the wild birds, wanted teaching and we