The missionary said to
her, "Well, my child, you know I am going to England. What shall I bring
you from that country?"
"I do not want anything," she modestly replied. "I have my parents, and
my brother, and the Padri-Sahibs, and my books, what can I want more?"
"But," said the missionary, "you are only a little girl, and surely you
would like something from England. Shall I bring you some playthings?"
"No, thank you," said the child; "I do not want playthings--I am learning
to read."
"Come, come," said the missionary, "shall I bring you a playfellow, a
white child from England!"
"No, no," answered the little girl, "it would be taking her from her
parents."
"Well then," said her friend, "is there nothing I can bring you?"
"Well, if you are so kind as to insist on bringing me something, ask the
Christians in England to send me a Bible-book and more PADRI-SAHIBS."
[Illustration: MISSIONARY'S HOUSE.]
This was a good request indeed, but to get Padri-Sahibs is a hard thing
to do. Who can tell how much good they have done already! There are many
Christian villages in India, and they are as different from heathen
villages as a dove's nest is different from a tiger's den.
Some very wicked men have been converted. You have heard of those proud
and hateful beggars, the Sunnyasees and the Fakirs.
One day a missionary, who had gone for his health to the Himalaya
Mountains, was walking in the verandah of his house, when he was
surprised by a man suddenly throwing himself down at his feet, and
embracing his knees.
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