We were often at a loss to find work for the boys. They could not be handed over to the artisans, who being all very busy, would have found them a great annoyance. We much needed a master to superintend them while they were out of school. In industrial missions pupils ought to be sent to the various artisans in order to learn the special department of work professed by each tradesman, but we were far from the attainment of this ideal, and besides a great many of our pupils were too young. One of the last days that I had charge of them, they came to me, after lessons were finished, and asked for work; by this time they had gone the round of several occupations and wanted something new: but I could think of nothing, and was of opinion that they deserved a holiday. At last I asked if they would like to catch rats for a week. This proposal amused them intensely, and a premium of a week’s wages was offered for every six rats. This was a high reward, for after the tail was taken off, the rat-catcher might cook his animal for himself or sell it to some of the workmen! The African schoolboy is as fond of rat catching as a Scotch lad is of fishing for trout. Only the Blantyre rats began to fall under the suspicion of strangers. We often had great poisonings, and on such occasions we proclaimed the danger of eating rats caught on the premises. After doses of arsenic, or phosphorus paste, had been distributed, many rats were found dead, while others could run but slowly, and were easily caught: and great was our fear that some poor native might make a meal of these. The boys, however, caught but few. Under the idea that the ‘white man would send them home to show what the African rats were like,’ some hunted the fields for various specimens; one day I was offered about a score of little field-mice (mapuku), but I had to decline them as the reward was for rats (makoswe). The boy felt this no hardship, as his ‘take’ was of great intrinsic value—the mapuku being a ‘relish’ of prime quality!