THE GARDEN MISSIONARY MEETING.

Two or three days afterwards Miss Fanny, with one of her young friends, came up to tell the farmhouse people that the box had gone. She said that Mr. Sims had given them a box, and had also kindly attended to sending it off.

The day after the meeting, when Hiram went down to the postoffice, Marty and Evaline had each sent by him a book for the missionary children, and Miss Fanny said that this prompted some of the children at the hotel to send books.

During the remainder of the summer there was frequent intercourse between the hotel and the farmhouse, and the “mission workers,” particularly, learned to love each other very much. Marty felt very proud to be numbered among these workers, though she was only a “twig.” She said,

“I'll have a great deal to tell Miss Agnes and the girls when I go home—sha'n't I, mamma?”

Some new members joined the mountain band, and by the last of August it numbered twenty-one. Ruth said she wished very much that before Mrs. Thurston left they might have her meet with the band. She thought they would all take greater interest in mission work if they could hear something of it from one who had spent so many years in the midst of it. Mrs. Thurston said she would be very happy to attend a meeting and talk with the members. So arrangements were made to have her do so.

It would be impossible for her to reach the grove, as she could not walk so far, and the drive from the hotel to Mr. Campbell's was very rough and quite long.

“Mother,” said Almira, when they were trying to settle the matter, “couldn't we have a meeting here? It would be easier for Mrs. Thurston to get here, and convenient enough for everybody else.”

“Why, of course they may meet here,” her mother replied. “Our parlor's a plenty big enough to hold 'em.”

“Oh! dear Mrs. Stokes,” protested Marty, “don't let us meet in the house when there's so much lovely out-of-doors. That grassy place in the garden near the currant-bushes would be just an elegant place for a meeting.”

“I vote with Marty for out-of-doors,” said Ruth. “We'll have enough times for in-door meetings after a while.”

“Suit yourselves,” said kind Mrs. Stokes. “You're welcome to any place I've anything to do with.”

“And may some of the rest of us from the hotel come?” asked Miss Fanny, who happened to be present when this talk was going on.

“Yes, indeed. The more the—.” Mrs. Stokes was just going to say, as she so often did, “the more the merrier,” when she recollected that it would be Sunday and the meeting a religious one. But she let them all know she would like them to come. Mrs. Ashford and Ruth had great difficulty in persuading her not to bake a quantity of cake on Saturday and serve refreshments to the band.

“You must remember, dear Mrs. Stokes,” said Ruth, “it isn't a party, and nobody will expect anything to eat. Now you must not think of going to any trouble.”

“The idee of having a lot of people come to your house and not give 'em a bite of anything!” exclaimed Mrs. Stokes.

Sunday afternoon chairs were carried out to the grassy spot Marty had selected, among them a comfortable arm-chair for Mrs. Thurston. Marty insisted on farmer Stokes' special arm-chair being carried out for him, and with the help of Wattie Campbell contrived to get it there. Hiram, before he drove down to the hotel for the ladies, made a couple of benches of boards placed on kegs. These were for the girls. The boys, he said, could sit on the ground, and that is where he sat himself.

Mrs. Thurston brought with her a cloth map of India which the young ladies fastened to two trees. She also had some photographs of people and places in India which were passed around among the company. Mr. Stokes was particularly struck with the beautiful scenery these pictures showed.

“Well,” he said, “I never knew much about India, but I had no idea it was such a handsome place.”

“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Thurston, “the scenery in some parts of these tropical countries is very fine, the foliage is so luxuriant, the flowers so gorgeous, the skies so brilliant. Indeed, a photograph only gives the merest hint of the beauties.”

She described certain mountain and forest views, also some parks and gardens she had visited.

“Don't you remember those lines in the missionary hymn, Mr. Stokes,” Miss Dora asked,

Mrs. Thurston told them that the people in India do not live on farms as many do in this country, but crowd together in towns and villages, going out from there to work in the fields. She briefly described the large city of Madras, with its mingled riches and poverty, its streets crowded with all sorts of people, some of them with hardly any clothing on, its temples and bazaars, or shops. Then she spoke of Madura, where her home had been so long.

It was hard to get her listeners, as they sat in this cool, shady garden, fanned by mountain breezes, to understand how hot it is in India, especially Southern India. They thought the punkahs, or huge fans, that are in all the churches and larger houses, and which a man works constantly to cool the air, must be very queer contrivances. The idea of having to stay indoors during the middle of the day, keeping very still, lying down, perhaps, did not strike Mrs. Stokes very favorably.

“That wouldn't suit me,” she said—“ to lie down in the daytime and be fanned. I'd want to be up and doing.”

“I fear even your energy would flag in that climate,” replied Mrs. Thurston, laughing. “Foreigners are obliged to be very careful or they could not live there at all. Of course we missionaries were not idle at the time I speak of. We were studying, writing, or making arrangements about our work.”

She then told a good deal about the way the missionaries work among the people, taking her hearers with her in imagination to some of the mission-schools, and to the Sunday services in the little church where her husband had preached. In doing this she repeated a passage of Scripture and sang a hymn in the Tamil language—the language used in that part of India.

“Now I will tell you something of zenana visiting,” she said.

“Mrs. Thurston,” said Ruth, “wont you please first tell us exactly what a zenana is?” Ruth knew herself, but she was afraid some of the others did not.

“The word zenana,” replied Mrs. Thurston, “strictly means women's apartment, but as it is generally used by us it means the houses of the high caste gentlemen, where their wives live in great seclusion. These high caste women very seldom go out, except occasionally to worship at some temple. They live, as we would say, at the back of the house, their windows never facing the street. Sometimes they have beautiful gardens and pleasant rooms, but often it is just the other way. They have few visitors and no male visitors at all, never seeing even their own brothers. The low caste women, though they lack many privileges the others have, yet have more freedom and are not secluded in this way.”

“I'd rather be low caste,” said Marty.

“You wouldn't rather be either if you knew all about it,” said Miss Fanny.

“In visiting the poorer people,” Mrs. Thurston went on to say, “when I was seen to enter a house the neighbors all around would flock in, so that I could talk with several families at once. But in visiting a zenana I only saw the inhabitants of that one house. To be sure there was generally quite a crowd of them, for the rich gentlemen often have several wives. Then there would be the daughters-in-law, for the sons all bring their wives to their father's house. Then all these ladies have female servants to wait on them and who are constantly present, so altogether there would be quite a company.”

“I suppose they would be glad to see you,” suggested Mrs. Ashford.

“Oh, yes. They welcome any change, their lives are so dull.”

“What do they do with themselves all day long?” inquired Miss Fanny. “I suppose they don't work, as they have plenty of servants to do everything for them. They don't shop or market or visit. They have no lectures or concerts to attend. They are not educated, at least not many of them; and even if they could read, they have no books. Oh, what a life!”

“What do they do, Mrs. Thurston?” Marty asked.

“Well, they look over their clothes and jewels, spend a great deal of time every day in being bathed in their luxurious way, and being dressed. Then they lounge about, gossip, and quarrel a good deal, I suspect. They are very fond of hearing what is going on, and the servant who brings them the most news is the greatest favorite.”

“And that's the way so many women have lived for centuries!” sighed Ruth.

“Things are improving somewhat now,” said Mrs. Thurston. “Education for women is very much more thought of than in former years. A great many girls are now allowed to attend the Government and other schools, and many men in these days are anxious to have their wives educated. Some employ teachers to come to their houses and teach the inmates. If only all these women could receive a Christian education, India would soon be a delightfully different place.”

“How do the missionaries get into these zenanas?” Ruth inquired. “Do they go as teachers or visitors or—what?”

“In some cases missionary ladies have gained admission by going to teach these shut-in ladies fancy-work or something of the kind. Other times they contrive to get introduced in some way, going as visitors. But in every case they aim to make their visit the means of carrying the gospel to these women.”

“Are they willing to have you talk on religious subjects?” asked Mrs. Ashford.

“Some of them are not. You know there is, of course, as much diversity among them as among any other women. But after they have got used to our coming, and have examined our clothes and asked us all sorts of questions, some of them very childish ones, they generally listen to what we wish to say and become interested in the Bible and the story of the cross.”

Mrs. Thurston then spoke particularly of some of the houses she used to visit, told about the pretty little children and their pretty young mothers, what they all did and said, in a way that interested her hearers very much. She also told how some of these friends of hers had received the gospel message and were converted to Christ. “And if you only understood the position of these people under this dreadful caste system, you would see what difficulties they have to contend with before they can come out on the Lord's side,” she said. “But it is our duty and privilege to show them the right way, the way of life, and shall we not do all in our power to send them the gospel? Those of them who know about free and happy America are looking to us for help. Did you ever hear some verses called 'Work in the Zenana'? I can repeat a couple of them.”

There was a great deal more talk about India, Mrs. Thurston being besieged with questions, until Ruth feared she would be worn out, and said the meeting had better close.

“Oh! I like to talk about my dear India,” said Mrs. Thurston with a tearful smile; “and if it is any help to you all in your work, I am only too willing to give you the help.”

“You have helped us ever so much,” replied Ruth, “and we are very grateful. I'm sure we shall always feel the greatest interest in that wonderful old India, with its sore need of the gospel.”

“Yes,” said Almira, “I feel now that every cent of money we can scrape together should be used for India.”

“Unfortunately it is not the only needy place in the world,” said Miss Mary.

“Well,” said Ruth, “we must just work hard and do all we can for heathen lands.”

Then they sang several hymns, Hiram and Hugh Campbell having carried Almira's melodeon out to the garden, and closed by repeating the Lord's prayer in concert.

During the singing Mrs. Stokes had slipped away, and Mrs. Ashford and Ruth exchanged smiling glances when they saw her standing by the garden-gate as the friends passed out, insisting that they should take some cookies and drop cakes from a basket she held. She would not hear of the hotel ladies getting into the carriage until they had partaken of the sliced cake and hot tea she had ready for them on the side porch.

“Ah, this is the way you get around it, Mrs. Stokes!” said Ruth.

“Now, Ruth,” exclaimed the good woman, “don't you say a word. I a'n't going to have these folks go back home all fagged out when a cup of tea will do 'em good.”

“This is another perfectly elegant missionary meeting,” said Marty. “I wonder if Edith and the other girls are having as good a time as I am.”

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