“I told them to do so if they could; and in a moment it was turned into the path, and the boys had it flying before them, some tumbling and hurting their knees, but up and at it again, and never pausing till it rolled up at the door of our Storehouse. On returning I found them all around it, and they said,— “Missi, have you forgotten what you promised us?” I said,—“What did I promise you?” They looked very disappointed and whispered to each other,—“Missi has forgot!” “Forgot what?” inquired I. “Missi,” they answered, “you promised that when the vessel came you would give each of us a biscuit.” “Oh,” I replied, “I did not forget; I only wanted to see if you remembered it!” They laughed, saying,—“No fear of that, Missi! Will you soon open the cask? We are dying for biscuits.” At once I got hammer and tools, knocked off the hoops, took out the end, and then gave girls and boys a biscuit each. To my surprise, they all stood round biscuit in hand, but not one beginning to eat. “What,” I exclaimed, “you are dying for biscuits! Why don’t you eat? Are you expecting another?” One of the eldest said,—“We will first thank God for sending us food, and ask Him to bless it to us all.” And this was done in their own simple and beautiful childlike way; and then they _did_ eat, and enjoyed their food as a gift from the Heavenly Father’s hand. (Is there any child reading this, or hearing it read, who never thanks God or asks Him to bless daily bread? Then is that child not a _white_ Heathen?) We ourselves at the Mission House could very heartily rejoice with the dear Orphans. For some weeks past our European food had been all exhausted, except a little tea, and the cocoa-nut had been our chief support. It was beginning to tell against us. Our souls rose in gratitude to the Lord, who had sent us these fresh provisions that we might love Him better and serve Him more.