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Source global Wall Street Journal     time 2022-12-17 15:03:22
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‘On Sunday evening we sing hymns for ever so long together, just like one huge family. The boys never seem to quarrel, or say one spiteful word of each other. We have just had two new boys; one is an Afghan; so we shall have the sons of Christian, Muhammadan, Hindu, and Afghan, (by race,) parents all together.’

Here comes a melancholy little touch of the sad side of Missionary work—that side which must inevitably exist in everything belonging to this world:—

‘Sweet Aunt Fanny quoted to me not long ago, I suppose in reference to departure,—When Thou wilt; where Thou wilt; how Thou wilt!” I think that the last chapter which I read to her was Romans viii. It is such a long chapter, that I stopped at about the 25th verse, fearing to tire the dear invalid; but she made me finish the chapter.

‘April 13, 1892.

Has past! another weary weary day,

And learn the deep meaning of things that have been!”’

‘Presently the dear old Missionary, Mr. Rudolph, appeared. The pardah”[27] lady, on seeing a man, hid behind an arm-chair. But when I told her that it was Rudolph Sahib,” the old lady said that he was her father, and that she would make her salaam to him. I hear that the Begum is almost a Christian, and she can read. Wrapped in her chaddah, she walked with me to church, and stayed through the service. I was close behind her. When it was over, I managed to say a little sentence to her in rather better Hindustani, The Lord Jesus Christ is here; He gives blessing.” The Begum gave a sound of assent.’


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