non Superintendent, and liberally
discounted on the scores of dullness, crankiness, want of vision,
yes jealousy. Now at last something had happened to disturb the
Canon Superintendent in his optimism, in his forecast of Julian's
brilliant usefulness to the Mission.

Julian had suddenly decided to leave his work. He had the offer
of a congenial berth and a rising salary in the Cathedral city.
He put the thing very kindly to the Canon Superintendent. He
would help the Mission of course, wouldn't he just, when he
should climb into the seats of the mighty? He would be a
volunteer henceforward the Cause could count upon him with a
sound commercial position for his jumping-off ground. Yet the
fact remained that he was leaving his work, having loved this
present world.

It was the day of farewell to the surroundings of the last three
years. Julian was to ride into town that afternoon.

He went to lunch with Dick Hunter, the weather-beaten one, and
talked to him as he imagined he wanted to be talked to. He had
always liked his host's Bohemian ways very well, he was only
impatient of his preoccupation with native postulants. There was
his usual fly-swarm of them, that day as other days, about his
threshold, and lunch was late, as usual. At last they began.
Julian had the first two courses to himself for the most part,
while his host was busy once again outside. Then came a third
course. 'I had this for you,' said the host rather pathetically,
as he settled down to his bread and cheese. 'It seemed the right
thing for the farewell banquet of a Mission. It's the food of the
country.'

Sure enough under the cover was a platter of brown millet with a
savory side dish of beans for relish. Julian flushed up. 'No
thanks, I've never tried millet pap yet, and I don't mean to,' he
said.

His host smiled, 'As you will,' said he. 'You won't mind my
having some, will you?' He helped himself sparingly, then he
called the Mashona boy to take the dishes away. Julian the
callous felt a shade remorseful.

'Here, let me try what it's like,' he said. His host took a piece
of the millet-food on a fork, and dipped it in the side dish. He
gave the result to Julian on a plate. 'For old sake's sake,' he
murmured. Julian nibbled away rather delicately. 'It's not so
awful,' he said.

He was riding into Rosebery that afternoon when the incident
recurred to him.

He had a great grip of his subjects whatever they were so long as
they were paya