I had told them all to bring their own dishes, and the variety was amusing. There was everything in size from an ordinary cup to a milk-pan and one much battered long-handled dipper. Coffee and crackers were passed first, then the stew. "Oh, it smells of onions!" was the exclamation as I dished it out. All seemed very happy, and laughed and joked as they ate. I told them I had been ten years among the Dakotas and had never before made a feast; that I had planned for a long time to visit them and had not been able, and perhaps it would be a long time before I should see them again, so I thought I would make them happy in this way. The old women replied, "We have often heard of you, and now we see you; we will always remember you and speak of you as 'the woman who made the feast.'" After they had finished, I talked to them a little of the "meat which perisheth not," and of the "Bread and the Water of Life," closing with prayer. It was a very enjoyable experience. I also met the women one afternoon at a special prayer meeting. It was not very well attended on account of the storm, which was almost a blizzard on that day. There are only two Christian women in that community besides Louis' wife. We spent two Sundays with the intervening days at this station, gaining a new insight into the needs of the out-station work, and new inspiration for carrying it on. * * * * * One thing that interested me very much was seeing a little girl who was a member of our Oahe School two years ago. She is the daughter of a prominent man in the village near Park Street Church Station. She was in native dress when she came to us; when I saw her over there, although her mother was away at the Agency and she was staying with relatives, she looked very neat and clean. She wore a pretty dress made after the style worn in our school and in every respect looked as well as though she had just come out of school. I think she would have returned with us had her parents been at home. * * * * *