Then came his visit to our out-station to learn to read and understand the Bible. It was no easy task for either pupil or teacher at his age, but so earnest was he and diligent that in a few weeks he could read the Chinese New Testament sufficiently well to get the meaning and in a few months had practically mastered its "characters." Three years passed during which time Mr. Doong had won the highest opinions from missionaries and his fellow Christians. His name was suggested as a probationary evangelist, and although his lack of education was against him, his beautiful spirit, so gentle, and so full of love to all with whom he came in contact, seemed to more than make up for this lack and he was unanimously called to the preaching of the Gospel. As time passed, results from Mr. Doong’s ministry amply justified this step, for wherever Mr. Doong was placed the work flourished and converts were added. On one occasion the writer visited one of these places with her husband. It was a busy pottery centre, known far and wide for its unspeakable immorality. Yet even in this most difficult field Mr. Doong had gathered out a little company of believers. I shall not soon forget the welcome we received on our arrival after a long trying dusty journey, at the door of the humble place where he lived and where we were to stay. He was so hearty and kind and yet had a certain dignity and courtesy which made me say inwardly, "Can this be the same man who was cook in a low theatrical company?" Yes he was the same, yet not the same, for his whole life, his looks, his wonderful power of holding heathen audiences for over an hour at a time all testified to the power of Christ to save and transform men. At the close of our visit I told my cook to settle as was the custom with Mr. Doong for the coal we had used during the ten days we had been there. The cook returned to say Mr. Doong refused to take anything for it. I called the dear old man and protested that this would not do. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Mother, Shepherd, will you not allow me the privilege and pleasure of doing even this much for you, when you and your husband have done so much for me? What would I have been had you not come with this blessed Gospel?" With full heart and dim eyes I could only put my hands together and bow low my thanks. When home on furlough I sent to a missionary for a photo of Mr. Doong for a lantern slide. In due course the photo arrived with a note from Mr. Doong himself, which ran as follows: "Dear Shepherd Mother, I thank you for the compliment you have paid me in asking for my photo. I would reciprocate and ask for yours but there is no need _for your countenance is engraved on my heart!_"