he seemed to have
forgotten it.

Then came the day when the Christian people of that little African church
were to pledge a definite number of days of service in carrying the
message of the Christ to others. Some were to go out and teach; some were
to carry Testaments and tracts written in Bulu to others; some were to
help about the mission station so that there might be a better place in
which to teach the ones who came. Some were to raise extra crops so they
might have something to give to those who went far out to teach. Every one
could give something, even though it was very different from what another
gave.

As it neared the time for the service, the black people might be seen
coming from all directions. Some had walked five miles, some ten, and some
even twenty. All had something to eat so that they might stay to hear all
the good news that could be given in a day. They filled the little bare
building which the boys of the school had builded for a church; they
filled the window spaces; then they filled the yard about the church. Oh!
there were very many of them and all were eager for the service to begin.

Holding the roof of the little church were large poles which had been
painted white and on these the pledges were to be made. So as the service
began, many looked at the poles and thought what a wonderful thing it was
to be allowed to give of themselves to the God who had become their own.

Soon the pledging began. First to go was the old chief who had given up
his twenty wives that he might become a Christian. He was old. What would
he give? First he made a slanting line and then he crossed it. Ah! that
was ten days of service.

Then others were ready, and some gave ten days, some one or two weeks, and
some could even give a month. The lines covered one pole and then another
as the people passed down the aisle and out of the building.

Last of all came the boys of the school. How could they give? They were
only boys. But they could take of their play time till they had gained a
day or more to give. One marked after another and last of all it was the
turn of Afa Bibo.

Very near to him stood the kind doctor who had made him free from the pain
and able to see the way as he came to the white pole. So he smiled one of
his rare smiles as he passed him. Then he made a slanting line and crossed
it; another and crossed it. That was twenty days. No boy had given as much
as that. But he was making another--twenty