of the
large population of poor black people of Cotton Valley. It is in
charge of four young women, graduates of Fisk University--Miss
Carrie Alexander, Principal, and Misses Pearl Binford, Lelia Haynie
and Lizzie B. Moore. Besides the school work, the teachers visit the
people in their cabin homes, hold mothers' meetings, Sunday-school,
Christian Endeavor and Junior Endeavor meetings, sewing classes, a
literary society and singing-school. It is a veritable social
settlement. The people look to these young women for advice,
medicine and help in all kinds of ways. They have won the love and
confidence of the people, and gladly help them in all ways. The
school is under the management of the American Missionary
Association, and is supported by the Woman's Missionary Union of
Massachusetts. The school is located in a most needy field for
mission work. A teachers' home is greatly needed. The teachers
occupy the log cabin home built by the first missionary teacher,
Mrs. Lillian V. Courtney, _nee_ Davis. This cabin home has done good
service; but a larger home is needed for the teachers, with
facilities for industrial training for girls.

* * * * *

BITS OF EXPERIENCE IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY.

MISS M. P. LORD.

Little-Dog was very sick, they said. We thought of the beautiful
two-year-old boy whom he had loved with all a father's tenderness,
and of the day when he had come and told us of the child's death;
and how his eyes were still inflamed with weeping; and how grateful
he was for the little food, and for the words of comfort we had
tried to give him.

His home was ten or fifteen miles up the winding river, with two
fording-places between. We found at the first a broad, swift stream,
swollen by a recent rain. We were glad we had made preparations
before starting in, for the water flowed six inches deep over the
buggy floor. At the village beyond, Cross-Bear advised us to return
by another road, as the river was still rising. Long-Feather, with
whose family we also stopped to shake hands, gave the same advice,
saying that he would see us safely over the next crossing, but that
he was just starting on a long drive in the opposite direction.
Good-Boy, who lived near the fording-place, would help, he said. So,
following directions, Good-Boy was found. His pony was quickly
saddled, and galloping on ahead he piloted us not only to the
river-crossing, but all the way to Little Dog's, some mi