Again, some are grown, and being past the age when mental effort is easy, they soon become discouraged. One big fellow stumbled along until he had mastered the chart after a fashion. Then, to his delight, he was given the Gospel of St. John to read. Day after day he struggled along over the, to him, meaningless syllables and words. Still he persevered until it gradually dawned upon him that the printed page meant something. He looked up one day with a most delighted expression on his face and exclaimed, "This book is talking to me!" The native cannot be said to be very persevering, owing to the fact that all his life, in his untaught state, he goes on the principle that the world owes him a living. His needs are few and often they are supplied by nature. When he comes up against a difficult problem of any sort, his usual answer is, "It will not consent." For this reason arithmetic is always difficult for him and his progress in it is very slow. One day I was endeavoring to show a girl how to make the letter _b_. After a vain effort to make it properly, she exclaimed, "My pencil will not consent to slide that way." The sewing hour probably was the most interesting time to all. They expected to receive the garments after they had finished sewing them and had worked for the cloth with which they were made. The dearest wish of their hearts was to have a garment to put on. And that is not strange, for in the cool morning air they come shivering, and at noon the hot sun burns their bodies. We might have made the garments and donated them; but that would not teach them to work and would have done them more harm than good. A native always appreciates most that upon which he has bestowed labor or money; so both boys and girls learned to sew. It was rather amusing to see them, in the absence of other garments to which they might pin their sewing, place it between their toes. It was also interesting to watch the different expressions when at last the garments were finished and they could clothe themselves. Matshuba put on his suit; then, folding his hands, said in a quiet and contented manner, "Now I am not cold any more." Amuzeze, when he had finished his garments, put them on, and taking a good look at himself stepped off as proudly as if he owned a large estate. Sibongamanzi kept her dress for Sunday. At home she would carefully fold it, and putting it in an earthen jar cover it up for safe keeping.