had been already influenced by Miss Marsh; and so
her task of teaching was made easier.

At the Sunday school she showed so great a genius for taming unruly
boys that the curate handed over to her the very worst of the youths,
that she might "lick them into shape".

Ere long the boys' class developed into a class for working men, which
grew and grew till it reached an average attendance of a hundred.

After that followed temperance work. This is how Miss Weston came to
sign the pledge.

She was working hard at meetings for the promotion of the temperance
cause when a desperate drunkard, a chimney sweep by trade, came to her
at one of the meetings and was going to sign the pledge.

Pausing suddenly he remarked, "If you please, Miss Weston, be you a
teetotaler?"

"No," she replied; "I only take a glass of wine occasionally, of
course in strict moderation." Laying down the pen he remarked he
thought he'd do the same. So after this Miss Weston became an
out-and-out teetotaler, duly pledged.

She had some experience of good work in the army before she took to
the navy. The 2nd Somerset Militia assembled every year for drill;
and for their benefit coffee and reading rooms were started and
entertainments arranged, Miss Weston taking an active part in their
promotion. The soldiers' Bible class which she conducted was well
attended; and altogether, as one of the officers remarked, "the men
were not like the same fellows" after they had been brought under her
influence.

The way Agnes Weston was first introduced to the sailors was singular.
She had written to a soldier on board the troopship _Crocodile_, and
he showed the letter to a sailor friend, who remarked: "That is good:
we poor fellows have no friend. Do you think she would write to me?"

"I am sure she will," replied the soldier; "I will write and ask her."

The good news that there was a kind friend willing to write to them
gradually spread; and sailor after sailor wrote to Miss Weston, and
their correspondence grew so large that at length she had to print her
letters.

Even in the first year she printed 500 copies a month of her letters
("little bluebacks" the sailors called them, on account of the colour
of their cover); but before many years had passed as many as 21,000 a
month were printed and circulated.

Then the sailor boys wanted a letter all to themselves, saying they
could not fully understand the men's bluebacks. Miss Weston could not
refuse;