athetically while standing at her side.

"Mamma," said he the other day to Mollie in Eskimo, with a pleased smile
on his face, and when the two were alone, "the ladie loves me."

"How do you know?" asked Mollie.

"Because," he said shyly, putting his little arms about her neck,
"because she kissed me." Whereupon Mollie did the same, and assured him
of her own love, always providing, of course, that he was a good boy,
and did what papa and mamma told him to do.

This conversation Mollie reported to me a few days after it took place,
and I assured her with tears welling up in my eyes that the little child
had made no mistake. Strange action of the subjective mind of one person
over another, even to the understanding by this Eskimo baby of a
stranger heart, and that one so unresponsive as mine. The child,
deprived as he was of an own mother's love, still hungered and thirsted
for it, and he was quick to discern in my eyes and voice the secret for
which he was looking. How I should enjoy giving my whole time to these
two children, and they really do need me to teach and care for them; but
I am dividing myself between them and the Mission, and the winter days
are very short.

The thermometer today registered fourteen degrees below zero, against
twenty-eight yesterday and thirty below the day before that.

Mr. H. has returned from Nome, bringing me a package of kodak films sent
from Oakland, Cal., last August, and which I never expected to receive
after so long a time. I was delighted to get them, and now I can kodak
this whole district, above and below.

Mollie is trying to study English a little, but with many interruptions
on every hand. The big living room is light and warm, our only study
place, and yet the rendezvous of all who care to drop in, regardless of
invitations, making it somewhat difficult for us to concentrate our
attention on the lessons. The Marshal, the bartender, the clerks, cooks,
miners, natives, strangers and all come into this room to chat, see and
inquire for Jennie, play with Charlie, and get warm by the fire. Here is
an opportunity of a lifetime to study human nature, and I am glad, for
it is a subject always full of interest to me, though I frequently feel
literally choked with tobacco smoke, and wish often for a private
sitting-room.

Sunday, January twentieth: We are snuggled indoors by the fires under
the most terrible blizzard of the season so far, with furious gales,
falling and drif