These children are exceedingly bright and attentive, and as to their good behavior, I can sometimes hold up their example as worthy of the imitation of my class of American boys. Only to-day, in speaking of the lesson on “Worshiping the Golden Calf,” I asked which they worshiped, God or idols, and one little girl said, “Me worship God; idols no good. They have eyes, no see; hands and feet, and no walk.” And when I asked all to raise their hands who would worship Jesus, she raised both hands. When shown the picture of Abraham offering Isaac, one of them said, “Why did not he run away?” One day, when taking home a little girl of five years of age, she looked at the cable car which was passing, and said, “What for does that car go faster than that one (pointing to a horse car)? That has no horse.” They ask innumerable questions, and want to know the why and wherefore of everything. Oh! my dear Christian friends, pray for me, that I may be aided in teaching and guiding these precious souls, on whom so much of China’s progress depends. Yours in Christ, LILIAN LAMONT. OUR YOUNG FOLKS. * * * * * LITTLE INDIANS. Perhaps there are little children in some of the beautiful homes in the cities who cannot understand that the Indians are not all born grown up, with feathers on their heads and tomahawks in their hands. One little blue-eyed girl once said to me with a very long O-o-o-o and her hand over her mouth, “Oh, o-h! I did not know there were little Indian boys and girls!” but let me tell you, little Golden Hair, there are Indian boys and girls. They have some very funny names, too. But there is one thing pleasant about it; their names are given to them because they mean something. As I write this article, I look out from my window and see an Indian boy with a roughly-made sled drawing his little sister up the hill so that she can slide down again behind him. Little Indians are not wholly unlike little white boys and girls. They eat and sleep, laugh and cry, but they do not fight. That comes with civilization. I can from my window watch the boys and girls playing on the hillside every day as long as the snow lasts, and I never have heard a child cry nor have I seen one child hurt another. I can hear them laugh and shout and cheer when one tumbles off the sled, but no angry or bad words are ever used. They are very merry and happy when we remember that there is no Indian child that does not know what it is to be hungry and have the mother say there is no food.