Milicent came almost reluctantly. Her hands ached intolerably, and she felt wretched altogether. But the warm rays of the fire began to play upon her chilled little frame, and as she nestled her head in her aunt's neck, she felt comfort beginning to steal over her. "Cold is very bad to bear," said her aunt, softly. "I heard from a soldier who came from South Africa that some of the poor fellows on duty at night would positively cry with the bitter cold." Milicent looked up suddenly. "These are words said to you and to me, Milly, 'Endure hardness, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ.'" "I didn't mean to cry," said Milly, "only I couldn't get on." "No, dear; and do you know when I saw your pitiful little face, I remembered what I heard at a missionary meeting a week or two ago? The young clergyman had been working for seven years all among the snows of North-West Canada—" "'Working?'" asked Milicent. "Trying to tell the Red Indians and Eskimos, and the trappers and hunters about Jesus, our Saviour, of whom they have never heard." "Oh, I see," said Milicent. "Now I know what you mean." "The missionaries there only get letters three times in the year; they have to live almost entirely on dried meat and a little tea, and often go very short of that! They never see the sun for nine months in the year, and the snow is five feet thick on the ground!" "When they travel from place to place to tell the good news of the love of Jesus, they often cannot get to a hut by night time, and have to camp in the snow. They scrape a big hole with their long snow-shoes, and then they put on every wrap they possess, and each gets into a long fur bag which covers them over head and all, and then they lie down in the snow hole, and men and dogs go to sleep as close together as they can for warmth." Milicent raised her head, and put out her hands to the blaze thoughtfully. "They must love Jesus very much to bear all that for Him," she said at length. "Yes; and love the poor ignorant people, too, Milly!" "Do the Eskimos learn to love Christ, Auntie?" "Indeed they do. The children are taught to read, and to sing hymns, and to repeat Scripture; and by and by little Mission stations spring up and a church is built; and those who used to be cannibals and at constant warfare with each other, learn to be kind and gentle and forgiving even as Christ is!" Milicent's large eyes looked wistful. "I wish I could do something for them," she said, longingly. "Milly, I felt that too, when I heard! But do you know what I thought? Every day I can pray that God would support and bless those brave missionaries in their hardships; and you can ask Him, too, that He may comfort them and give them food to eat and cheer their hearts with His presence." "So I will," said Milly in a low voice. "And you can learn to knit warm gloves and caps for them, perhaps? Or work to sell things and send them money." Milly nodded her head earnestly. Her heart was full of thoughts.