ne of the very gladdest of our Overweights of Joy.

We heard of the little sisters through a mission schoolmaster,
who--knowing that they had been left motherless, and that a Hindu of
good position had obtained something equivalent to powers of
guardianship, and thus empowered had placed them with a Temple
woman--was most anxious to save them, and wrote to us; and, as he
expressed it, "also earnestly and importunately prayed the benign
British Government to intervene."

The Collector to whom the petition was sent was a friend of ours. He
knew about the nursery work, and was ready to do all he could; but he
did not want a disturbance with the Caste and Temple people, and so
advised us to try to get the children privately. We sent our wisest
woman-worker, Ponnamal, to the town, and she saw the principal people
concerned; but they entirely refused to give up the children. The man
who had adopted them had got his authority from the local Indian
sub-magistrate; and contended that as the Government had given them to
him, no one had any right to take them from him; "and even if the
Government itself ordered me to give them up, I never will. I will never
let them go." This in Tamil is even more explicit: "The hold by which I
hold them I will never let go." Ponnamal returned, weary in mind and in
body, after three days of travelling and effort; she had caught a
glimpse of the baby, and the little face haunted her. The elder child
was reported very miserable, and she had seen nothing of her. The
guardian, of course, had not dealt with her direct; but she heard he had
taken legal advice, and was sure of his position. There was nothing
hopeful to report. Once again we tried, but in vain. By this time a new
bond had been formed, for the guardian had become attached to little
Seela, and spent his time, so we heard, in playing with her. He let it
be known that nothing would ever make him give her up. "She is in my
hand, and my hand will never let go."

Then suddenly news came that he was dead. The baby had sickened with
cholera. He had nursed her and contracted the disease. In two days he
had died. He had been compelled to let go.

Then the feeling of all concerned changed completely. It hardly needed
the Collector's order, given with the utmost promptitude, to cause the
Temple woman to give the children up. To the Indian mind, quick to see
the finger of God in such an event, the thing was self-evident. An
unseen Power was at work