The Way of a Missionary.

The trip to New York was a great pleasure to Betty. A number of missionaries traveled together, and most of the time she was on the observation platform, enjoying the scenery and chatting with her companions.

When they reached New York, Betty's excitement was at its height. At last she was in that Great New York—the city that she had dreamed of for years—and the city where Dr. Cadman lived. As she came out of the Hudson Terminal building, the noise and clamor seemed to deafen her. Two missionaries from Brooklyn, met the party to take them to headquarters in Brooklyn. Betty clung to the arm of one of her traveling companions, and allowed herself to be led, silent and dazed, through the winding streets to the Brooklyn Bridge. It was just six o'clock when all the Brooklyn men were returning from their business in New York. The clamor of gongs and rushing of people frightened Betty and made her ask an Elder what had happened.

"O, that's only Brooklyn Bridge at rush hour," replied the Elder, smiling. "You'll get used to that soon. Sounds queer after Utah, doesn't it?"

"It isn't like this everywhere, is it?" she asked disappointed.

"O, no!" laughed the Elder, "There are some quiet nooks."

Betty felt herself lifted off her feet and with the crowd, pushed into a trolley. The seats were all taken by those who "knew how," but Betty took hold of a strap, and looked around for her companions. They were jammed in at the other end of the car, and though they waved to her, she suddenly felt strangely alone. For the first time, a feeling of homesickness crept over her. This great crowded city with human beings like flies, and big tall buildings towering over narrow streets—was this New York? For twenty minutes the car dragged, and every little while stopped to crowd more in, until everyone was pushing the next. The crowd took it all as though accustomed to it. Not a word or look of anger was given. Some of the passengers appeared to be pale and tired, but all were tolerant.

Betty's mind traveled back to Ephraim's openness and ease, and then came back to present surroundings. She looked out to see the streets through which they passed. She only got a glimpse of the river, but it gave her a cool breath of air that was refreshing. Then came narrow business streets, with screeching elevated rail roads overhead.

"Trains traveling through the air! How strangely awful!" thought Betty. But it was exciting, even though she hated it. At last the car turned into a quiet, residential street, and Betty breathed once more.

When the car stopped and the whole missionary party alighted, Betty was again her calm composed self.

"This is our Church, and next to it, is the Mission House," explained one of the Elders.

Everyone looked at the beautiful white stone church with interest and admiration, and then at the large, red brick house beside it.

"How homelike it is!" exclaimed Betty, feeling her depression leaving her. "Do we missionaries live there?"

The Elder looked at her with pity.

"Not much!" he said, laughing, "We're scattered all over—wherever we can get a room,—but we always like to come here and get warmed up, you know!"

All the young people laughed.

"Sister Emmit, don't think that missionaries have it easy," said one young, rosy-cheeked girl, who looked as though hardship would be fun for her.

"I didn't mean it to be easy," returned Betty, flushing hotly, "I simply asked a question."

At this time they had reached the door of the mission home, which was opened to receive them. There, in the doorway, stood a stout, portly looking man of about forty years. His round, candid face was full of good nature and hospitality. His keen, blue eyes scanned the party with interest.

"Come right in," he said, heartily, "Guess you're all tired, eh? Well, you've come to a good resting place, and the dinner's about ready for all."

Betty's heart went right out to this jovial Mission President, and she felt "cheered up," as she afterwards expressed it.

The party found a warm welcome and a good dinner. The President's wife was no less hospitable than President Gladder himself, and everyone seemed merry and happy.

About nine o'clock, Betty and Dell Siegler were escorted by one of the Elders to a house not far from the Mission House.

"This will be your home, until President Gladder has assigned you your companion and field of labor," he explained, as he rang the bell.

"When will that be?" asked Betty.

"In a day or so," he answered.

The door was opened by a neat, thin little old lady. Introductions over, the Elder left them.

"I'll take you right to your room, young ladies,—follow me."

The tone was kindly polite, but to Betty's sensitive ears, it sounded strangely business-like. They followed the old lady up three flights of stairs, and then into a square back room.

Betty watched her light the "welsbach," which was quite a curiosity to her.

"Put the gas out carefully when you go to bed," she said. "Sometimes it turns all the way round and the gas escapes," and with this admonition and a pleasant "goodnight," she was gone.

Dell and Betty looked around the room, and then at each other.

"It's stuffy, don't you think? Let's open the windows," said Dell.

"What is that for?" asked Betty curiously, looking at one corner of the room.

"O, that is a little cook stove—my sister told me she had one on her mission. See!" and Dell pushed aside a faded cretonne curtain. "Here are all the dishes and cooking utensils. We prepare our own meals, you know."

"Not in our bed-room, surely!" exclaimed Betty.

"Why, of course we do!" laughed Dell. "You don't seem to know much about missionaries' ways. Even the Elders have to live this way."

Betty felt ashamed to have expressed her feelings so, but she was ready to do anything for her mission work.

"I hope that you won't think me fussy," she said apologetically, "I'm willing to do anything for my mission. But it does seem strange at first, doesn't it?"

"It surely does," replied Dell, "and I guess you'll think of your roomy Ephraim home many times when you are eating, sleeping, and studying in one little coop like this."

"But we won't be in it much, will we?"

"That's the big part of it—we won't," laughed Dell.

The two girls got into bed and then thought of the gas.

"Betty, I don't understand gas-jets,—will you put it out?"

"I'm afraid to," returned Betty anxiously. "I know they're dangerous,—I saw her put a match over it. Wasn't that queer? But I'm not sure how to put it out."

"To be on the safe side," said Dell, practically, "Leave it alight. It may keep us awake a bit, but I'd just like a good talk or—"

"Or what?"

"O, I know I'll get homesick. Hurry up, Betty, talk! Just talk! I feel it coming on!"

"So do I," said Betty with quivering lips. "I don't believe I can talk—much."

That was enough.

Dell's head dived into the pillow, and her little slim figure shook with sobs.

This was too much for Betty. For a few moments she stroked the fair head of her companion, with admirable self-control, but when Dell pulled her over and hugged her close, Betty's tears came thick and fast.

At last Dell sat up in bed with determination.

"We're fine missionaries, Betty, to act like this!" she said sternly.

"Don't worry about that," said Betty, smiling through her tears. "They say that the best surgeons are those who faint at the first operation!"

"That's so!" agreed Dell, "I wouldn't go back, would you?"

"Of course not!" replied Betty, "We're out on the Lord's work! But we're only girls, after all, and we'll feel lots better to cry it out. I guess everyone does, but don't tell anyone, will you?"

"Of course not!" promised Dell.

"Come, let's get to sleep before—"

"All right,"—and the two girlish heads were soon lying quietly close together with their tear-stained faces up-turned to the bright light of the mysterious "welsbach."

*****

In the morning Betty roused her companion.

"I'm so hungry, Dell. Let us hurry to the Mission Home for breakfast."

On their way out they asked the landlady to turn off the gas.

"Land!" exclaimed the old lady indignantly. "You didn't burn my gas all night? And gas is expensive, too, I'll tell you!"

Betty stood dumb, while Dell apologized.

"I thought the West knew gas when they saw it!" snapped the old lady as she shut the door in their faces.

Dell and Betty walked out of the house in silence.

When in the street, Betty laughed.

"Quite motherly, wasn't she? Dell, I do hope you'll be my companion. We'll start a diary together."

The bright morning air made them both laugh with the zest of youth.

As they entered the mission home, Mrs. Gladder kissed them both.

"Sleep well, girls?"

"O yes, thank you," answered the girls, looking at one another with a smile that one of the Elders passing them, was sure to detect.

As Mrs. Gladder led the way to breakfast; he said to the girls in a stage whisper,

"Never mind, girls! they all do it!"

"Do what?" asked Betty demurely.

"O you know,—but don't feel embarrassed. Every night you'll feel better."

Sister Gladder turned. "Brother Eldridge," she said laughing, "if you don't stop teasing, I'll have to report you to President Gladder!"

At this, the young man laughed heartily, and the girls joined in.

The second night they decided that they had been foolish, and laughed themselves to sleep, with the gas turned off and the moonlight streaming in at their little high windows.

*****