Speaking of babies reminds me of a sad little incident which occurred while I was holding the first meeting there with the women. Hoping to win their interest, knowing how many little dead babies are carried away from Korean homes, I told them of the Saviour’s love for little ones, that he held them in his arms and caressed them when on earth, and had said that the spirits of these little ones do always behold the face of the Father; so that would they only believe and give their hearts to him, they should see their little ones again in heaven. A great sob broke from one of the women who commenced passionately weeping. As soon as she could speak, she told me, her voice broken with violent emotion, that she had been a sorceress, and in a moment of frenzy had dashed her only child, a baby, to the floor and killed it. She, a mother, had killed her child, and could she ever be happy again, could God forgive such as she, could she ever be permitted to see her murdered child again? She feared she was too wicked. All of us wept with her, and she was told of the great mercy and pardoning love of God, and found peace in Christ. Mr. Underwood also visited Sam Oui, the village which had learned of Christ through the example of Haing Ju, and baptized a handful of Christians there, enrolling a number of catechumens. When people do not seem quite ripe for baptism, yet have put away idolatry, keeping the Sabbath, putting away concubines, and living a life of apparent conformity with the ten commandments, they are enrolled in this class of catechumens. While I was engaged during the morning with the women, the “amah” was charged to take care of our little boy, but when the service was over, as he was nowhere to be seen, we started out to find him. As we walked down the lane we saw coming toward us a row of some seven or eight boys of his age (the dirtiest in the town, I am sure), he in the center, an arm around one on either side, all chatting and laughing together in the merriest mood possible. How could we help laughing, how help being half pleased, even while horrified at what such contact might portend, how many varieties of microbes, not to mention other things. From Haing Ju we took a Korean junk down the river to Pai Chun. We went on board at night, and as it was bitterly cold, we were told we must go down under the deck, as there was absolutely no sheltered place above where we could sleep. The hole to which we were relegated was not attractive. There were odors of fish ages old, the space was not high enough even to sit upright in, and barely wide enough for Mr. Underwood, our child, our “amah” and myself to lie packed side by side (no turning or moving about) in the stern.