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Updated: June 1, 2025
God will hold you responsible for their souls. Are you in the Sabbath-school? Are you in the Mission-school? Are you in the neighborhood prayer-meeting? Are you a visitor? Are you distributing tracts? Are you doing anything to seek and to save that which is lost?"
I do, I do. Bobby's friend had been once to the mission-school. He had but a single talent; but, he made good use of it when he employed it to lead that wounded, suffering, dying boy to Jesus. "Good Friends." "I wish I had some good friends, to help me on in life!" cried lazy Dennis, with a yawn. "Good friends," said his master, "why you've got ten; how many do you want?"
A mission-school pupil might sing My Country, 'Tis of Thee or Suwannee River or Poor Blind Joe. You know Poor Blind Joe, eh? Sung it in school? I thought so. I'll bet you don't know this one."
You're Maggie." "Yes," replied the girl. "Don't you recollect in the mission-school? Don't you recollect you married me and Larry? That's two years ago." She almost laughed out with pleasure. "And where's Larry?" "Why, don't you recollect? He's on the sloop-o'-war Preble." Then she added more gravely: "I aint seen him in twenty months. But I know he's all right.
He gave his orders boldly to my servant, and his demeanour plainly asked what business I had there, though he would never listen to my explanation. I took the whole adventure philosophically, but rage and indignation took possession of Rashîd. And his indignation was increased by the popularity of our insulter with the girls and teachers of the mission-school hard by.
You feel that not only is the whole atmosphere of this place essentially different from that of the Chinese quarter, but there is also an essential difference between those who frequent the one and the other. Socially, intellectually, spiritually, the Chinese mission-school does its beneficent work. It must be borne in mind that the Chinaman in California is away from home.
"Well, how'd you ever happen to come here?" cried Mrs. Wiggs, who had come to the door. "There is one for each of the mission-school families; just a little Christmas greeting, you know." Mrs. Wiggs's spirits were rising every minute. "Well, that certainly is kind an' thoughtful like," she said.
At other times, if he began to speak at all, it was in French, the most familiar language of his boyhood, and sometimes scraps of the old priestly Latin would come to his lips as he lay half dozing, and dreaming perhaps of his life in the mission-school, and the time when he was to have been a teacher of his own people.
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