mputated the legs of her doll, "This is the way Sir
Robert Jones does it."

Next to operating, the children love music; and they love it with a
repertoire varied to meet every mood, from "Keep the Home Fires
Burning" to "In the Courts of Belshazzar and a Hundred of his Lords."
One three-year-old scrap comes from a Salvation Army household, and
listens to all such melodies with marked disapproval. But when the
others finish, she "pipes up," shutting her eyes, clapping her hands
and swaying back and forth--

"Baby's left the cradle for the Golden Shore:
Now he floats, now he floats,
Happy as before."

Three of the kiddies are Roman Catholics and have taught their
companions to say their prayers properly of an evening. They all cross
themselves devoutly at the close; but this instruction has fallen on
fallow ground in the wee three-year-old. She sits with eyes tightly
screwed together lest she be forced even to witness such heresy and
schism.

Yesterday I was walking with Gabriel when we came upon a tiny bird
essaying his first spring song on a tree-top nearby. Gabriel looked at
the newcomer silently for several minutes, and finally, turning his
luminous brown eyes up to my face, asked, "Do he sing hymns,
Teacher?"

_April 19_

The village sale was held last week. This has become an annual
occurrence, and the proceeds are devoted to varying good objects. This
time the hospital was the beneficiary. For months the countryside, men
and women, have been making articles, and I can assure you it is a
relief to have it over and such a success to boot, and life's quiet
tone restored. We made large numbers of purchases, and consumed
unbelievable quantities of more than solid nourishment. The people
have shown the greatest ingenuity and diligence, and the display was a
credit to their talent. I was particularly struck with the really
clever carving representing local scenes which the fishermen had done
with no other tools than their jack-knives. The auction was the
keynote of the evening, due largely to the signal ability of the
auctioneer. His methods are effective, but strictly his own. Cakes,
made generally in graded layers and liberally coated with different
coloured sugar, were the favourites. As he held up the last teetering
mountain he "bawled": "What am I bid for this wonderful cake? 'Tis a
bargain at any price. Why, she's so heavy I can't hold her with one
hand." It fetched seven dollars!