She was a very intelligent child, learned things like any white girl, and soon became quite a help to Mrs. Paton. On seeing his niece dressed and so smart-looking, the old Chief’s only brother, the Sacred Man that had attempted to shoot me, also brought his child, Litsi Sisi (= the Little) to be trained like her cousin. The mothers of both were dead. The children reported all they saw, and all we taught them, and so their fathers became more deeply interested in our work, and the news of the Gospel spread far and wide. Soon we had all the Orphans committed to us, whose guardians were willing to part with them, and our Home became literally _the School of Christ_,—the boys growing up to help all my plans, and the girls to help my wife and to be civilized and trained by her, and many of them developing into devoted Teachers and Evangelists. Our earlier Sabbath Services were sad affairs. Every man came armed—indeed, every man slept with his weapons of war at his side—and bow and arrow, spear and tomahawk, club and musket, were always ready for action. On fair days we assembled under the banyan tree, on rainy days in a Native hut partly built for the purpose. One or two seemed to listen, but the most lay about on their backs or sides, smoking, talking, sleeping! When we stopped the feast at the close, for which they were always ready, the audiences at first went down to two or three; but these actually came to learn, and a better tone began immediately to pervade the Service. We informed them that it was for their good that we taught them, and that they would get no “pay” for attending Church or School, and the greater number departed in high dudgeon as very ill-used persons! Others of a more commercial turn came offering to sell their “idols,” and when we would not purchase them but urged them to give them up and cast them away for love to Jesus, they carried them off saying they would have nothing to do with this new Worship. Amidst our frequent trials and dangers in those earlier times on Aniwa, our little Orphans often warned us privately and saved our lives from cruel plots. When, in baffled rage, our enemies demanded who had revealed things to us, I always said, “It was a little bird from the bush.” So, the dear children grew to have perfect confidence in us. They knew we would not betray them; and they considered themselves the guardians of our lives. The excitement increased on both sides, when a few men openly gave up their idols. Morning after morning, I noticed green cocoa-nut leaves piled at the end of our house, and wondered if it were through some Heathen superstition. But one night the old Chief knocked upon me and said,— “Rise, Missi, and help! The Heathen are trying to burn your house. All night we have kept them off, but they are many and we are few. Rise quickly, and light a lamp at every window. Let us pray to Jehovah, and talk loud as if we were many. God will make us strong.”