Le Petit Nord | Page 7

by the end of the summer. You had better send me a box by freight with some clothing in it; I otherwise shall have to live in bed, or seek admission to hospital as a "chronic."
How perfectly dear of you to have a letter awaiting me at the Orphanage. Regardless of manners I fell to and devoured it, while all the "little oysters stood and waited in a row." Like the walrus, with a few becoming words I introduced myself as their future guardian, but never a word said they. As, led by a diminutive maid, I passed from their gaze I heard an awe-struck whisper, "IT'S gone upstairs!"
[Illustration: THE HERRING OF HIGH ESTATE]
In answer to my questions the little maid informed me that the last mistress had left by the boat I had just missed, and that since then the children had been in her charge, with such help and supervision as the various members of the Mission staff could give. I therefore felt it was "up to me" to make a start, and I delicately enquired when the next meal was due. An exhaustive exploration of the larder revealed two herrings, one undoubtedly of very high estate. As the children looked fairly plump, I concluded that they had only been on such meagre diet since the departure of the last "mistress." The barrenness of the larder suggested a fruitful topic of conversation with which to win the confidence of these staring, open-mouthed children, and I therefore tenderly asked what they would most like to eat, supposing IT were there. One and all affirmed that "swile" meat was a delicacy such as their souls loved--and repeated questions could elucidate no further. Subsequently, on making enquiries of one of the Mission staff, I thought I detected a look which led me to suppose that I had not yet acquired the correct pronunciation of the word. We dined off the herring of lowly origin, and consigned the other to the garbage pail. Nerve as well as skill, I can assure you, is required to divide one herring into thirty-six equal parts. There is no occasion for alarm. I have not the slightest intention of starving these infants. To-morrow I go on a foraging expedition to the Mission commissariat department (there must be one somewhere), and then the fat years shall succeed the lean ones.
To-night I am too tired to do more, and there is a quite absurd longing to see some one's face again. The coming year looks very long and very dreary, and although I know I shall grow to love these children, yet, oh, I wish they did not stare so when one has to blink so hard to keep the tears from falling.

July 7
Morning! And the children may stare all they like. I no longer need to repress youthful emotions. All the same it is a trifle disconcerting. I had chosen, as I thought, a very impressive portion of Scripture for Prayers, and the children were as quiet as mice. But they never let their eyes wander from me for a single moment, until I began to feel I ought at least to have a smut on the tip of my nose.
The alluring advertisement of Newfoundland, as "the coolest country on the Atlantic seaboard in the summer," is all too painfully true. It is very, very cold at present, and the sun, if sun there be, is safely ensconced behind an impenetrable bank of fog. If this is summer weather, what will the winter be!
I started to write this to you in the morning, but the day has been one long series of interruptions. The work is all new to me and not exactly what I expected, but the spice of variety is not lacking. I find it very hard to understand these children and it is evident from their faces that they fail to comprehend my meaning. Yet I have a lurking suspicion that when it is an order to be obeyed, their desire to understand is not overwhelming. The children are supposed to do the work of the Home under my superintendency, the girls undertaking the housework and the boys the outside "chores." Apparently from all I hear my predecessor was a strict disciplinarian, an economical manager, an expert needlewoman, and everything I should be and am not. The sewing simply appalls me! I confess that stitching for three dozen children of all sizes had not entered into my calculations as one of the duties of a "missionary"! Yet of course I realize they must be clad as well as taught. What a pity that the climate will not allow of a simple loin cloth and a string of beads. And how infinitely more becoming. Then, too, how much easier would be the food problem were