When we reached Blantyre, we had only one very small looking-glass, and though we made an effort to obtain a larger one we were unsuccessful, the article like many others being stolen by the Magololo when on its way up from the coast. But this half year a large mirror arrived safely and caused a great sensation. The smaller one was now available as a toy, and was much appreciated by old and young. When a visitor came from a distance, our little natives suggested that he had not seen the mirror. I would then ask the man if he wanted to see ‘my friend’. The children knew what was coming and began to clap their hands, while our guest looked as if afraid of some magical trick I went and fetched the mirror, and my visitor soon gazed on the white man’s friend. He shouted out Amao! (mother) or Ngondo! (war) which are two native interjections of surprise. Acting on his first impulse, he would look behind the mirror to see if there was any one there! He was quite overcome, and it was long before he was composed; as he opened his mouth in exclamation, the white man’s friend did the same, as he laughed, the figure laughed in his face. He easily recognised himself, but this mimicry at close quarters was new and tickled him exceedingly. By this time we had been able to procure many necessaries from home, our baking was improved, milk strainers were introduced. At first, jams were sent out in small quantities, and could scarcely be obtained even by an invalid, but the medical man after some experience of the climate, pointed out that these were often not so much a luxury as a necessity, and now they could be bought from the store. Sometimes the distinction between luxury and necessity was mooted again, and then one would hear the pathetic appeal, ‘Tell us where we have a single luxury in this wilderness!’ When the supply of fowls became deficient, we could fall back on a small store of tinned meats, but these were so few that we tried to reserve them for cases of extremity. If ever the Station should be besieged we could live for a week on our own resources! The expense of the Mission was great, it could not be otherwise. About this time I wrote, ‘If the old monks had been so dependent on help from their homes, Britain would have never seen Christianity’. We were recommended to trust a good deal to the productions of the country. But the true question was, not how the Missionaries could be kept alive, but how they could be kept in such health as would enable them to labour with vigour. The difficulty was likely to be gradually solved by each man ordering what he wanted, the only drawback being that out of six boxes sent from home, only one might arrive. This extra risk fell heavy on the Missionaries, not to mention the famine caused by the loss and delay. The want of milk was a great hardship especially for children. Only this discomfort would not have occurred if we had been in the country avowedly as farmers,