To the country, the new authority conferred on the High Commissioner at that time has resulted in a revolution as silent and as effectual as the change of the seasons. His new title, Pū Samret Rāchakān—he who fulfills the King’s work—was used, I believe, for the first time in that proclamation; and it really marked the passing of the sceptre from the hands of the Princes of Chiengmai. The titular Chao Chīwit—Lord of Life—was allowed to retain his title and honours during his lifetime; but he has had no successor. The Lāo country has ceased to be either a feudal dependency or a separate “buffer-state.” Silently—almost imperceptibly—it has become an integral portion of the consolidated Kingdom of Siam. Autocratic rule has everywhere ceased. And all these changes are directly in line with the civilization of the age. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ XX SCHOOLS—THE NINE YEARS’ WANDERER The year 1879 opened auspiciously. In March a little variety was introduced into our secluded life by an official visit to Chiengmai of Major Street, the British Commissioner at Maulmein. He and his party arrived quite unexpectedly, spent a week in the city, and attended an English service at the mission on Sunday. We met them a number of times, both socially and at official dinners. They strengthened the position of the Commissioner, and did us all good. But at that time we were anxiously awaiting another arrival, in which we were more intimately concerned. Mr. Wilson, who had been for two and a half years absent on furlough, was daily expected, and with him were our long-looked-for teachers for the Girls’ School. The party was to arrive on April 9th. To please the three children and myself, on the afternoon of the 8th we four started down the river in a small boat to meet and welcome them. But the river was low, and we had not yet reached them when darkness came on and we were obliged to seek moorings. When, at last, we got ashore, we learned to our great joy that the mission boats were moored only a few hundred yards below, in the same bend of the river. We all walked down in the moonlight, and presently spied their lights close at hand. The young ladies had retired to read, but not to sleep. The meeting by moonlight at the river’s brink was quite romantic. We talked till ten o’clock, though Mr. Wilson was so hoarse that he could scarcely speak. At daybreak our fleet was under way. We had a jolly breakfast together on board—our visitors at their little table, and we on the deck. We then visited hard again until noon; but it was two o’clock before we caught sight of the mission premises, with the native Christians all waiting to greet the arrivals, old and new.