PEGGY had been to a missionary meeting in the village schoolroom. It had been held there expressly for children, and a missionary from India had spoken very earnestly to them. "Do you all know about Jesus?" he had asked. Then reading assent in their faces, he went on, "Happy children, to know you have a Saviour and Friend with you every day! There are hundreds of thousands living and dying without this knowledge. Would you not like to help to tell them about it? There are none too small to be missionaries, and I hope some of you are missionaries at home. "Remember the little captive maid who told her master of the One who could cure him. There are many at home who want to be cured by the Great Physician. Tell others about Jesus. If you don't begin doing this at home in England, you will never be able to do it abroad amongst the heathen. We want you to tell about Jesus; we want you to pray to Him for the poor heathen, and we want you to give of your money to help to send missionaries out to teach them. Prayers, purses, and preaching bring heathen to Jesus. Do not forget these three P's." Peggy walked home full of thought. When Helen asked her if she had enjoyed it she said "Yes 'm." Then, after a pause, she said irrelevantly, "I suppose 'm you'll never have a ill gentleman to live with you?" "Why, no, Peggy." "I did used to think I wouldn't get a place without a ill gentleman, but I couldn't find one, and then you come along, and so I came." Helen looked puzzled. "Why did you want a place with an invalid gentleman?" "So as to be like the little servant in the Bible," was Peggy's prompt reply. "I somehow thinks I could 'elp him like the other girl did." "But, Peggy, you need not wait for that opportunity," said Helen gently. "There are always people to be helped, even in our village—people who want to be told that Jesus will cure their souls if not their bodies." "Do people have sick souls?" asked Peggy earnestly. "Yes, indeed they do. The soul that hasn't Jesus living in it is always sick—sick unto death." Peggy pondered over this. "I'm a-goin' to think over those there three P's," she said presently. "And, please 'm, I've done one already." "Which is that, Peggy?" "Prayers 'm." "I'm glad to hear you have prayed about it. You mustn't forget to pray every day, Peggy." "But, please 'm, the gentleman told us of them idols that the heathen made. He said them were deaf, but God weren't." "Yes?" "So, please 'm, I ain't goin' to arsk God more 'n once. I kneeled down when I comed 'ome, and I arsked Him to save the heathen, every one. And He ain't deaf, so I ain't goin' to arsk Him again." Helen looked at Peggy, but said nothing. And Joyce at this moment coming into the room, prevented further conversation. Two days after this, an old pedlar came to the door. Peggy went to interview him. "We don't want nothink, thank yer," she said, eyeing his wares with some curiosity.