of cruelty
in dark places. And Suhinie (Gladness), whose story of deliverance has
been told before;[E] and Esli, the gift of a fellow-missionary, a most
faithful girl; and others younger, but developing in character and
trustworthiness. All these young converts need much care, but the care
of genuine converts is very fruitful work; and one interesting part of
it is the fitting of each to her niche, or of fitting the niche to her.
Discernment of spirit is needed for this, for misfits means waste energy
and great discomfort; and energy is too good a thing to waste, and
comfort too pleasant a thing to spoil. So those who are responsible for
this part of the work would be grateful for the remembrance of any who
know how much depends upon it.

Among the recognised "fits" in our family is "the Accal who loves the
unlovable babies." This is Suhinie. We tried her once with the Taraha
children; but the terrible activity of these young people was altogether
too much for the slowly moving machinery of poor Suhinie's brain, and
she was perfectly overwhelmed and very miserable. For Suhinie hates
hurry and sudden shocks of any sort, and the babies of maturer years
discovered this immediately; and Suhinie, waddling forlornly after the
babies, looked like a highly respectable duck in charge of a flock of
impertinent robins.

[Illustration: THREE CONVERT WORKERS.]

It was quite a misfit, and Suhinie's worst came to the top, and we
speedily moved her back again to the Premalia nursery.

For there you see Suhinie in her true sphere. Give her a poor, puny
babe, who will never, if she can help it, let her Accal have an
undisturbed hour; give her the most impossible, most troublesome baby in
the nursery, and then you will see Suhinie's best. We discovered this
when Ponnamal was in charge of the Neyoor nursery. Ponnamal had one
small infant so cross that nobody wanted her. She would cry half the
night, a snarly, snappy cry, that would not stop unless she was rocked,
and began again as soon as the rocking was stopped. Ponnamal gave her to
Suhinie.

"Night after night till two in the morning she would sing to that
fractious child"--this was Ponnamal's story to me when next I went to
Neyoor. "She never seemed to tire; hymn after hymn she would sing, on
and on and on. I never saw her impatient with it; she just loved it from
the first." And a curious thing began to happen: the baby grew like her
Accal. This likeness was not caught in the p