dish--something after the fashion of a Hamburg steak--and possessing no
machine for mincing the meat, she simply chewed it up nice and fine in
her own mouth. After cooking it to a turn, she set it before her
honoured guest, and was at a loss to understand why the good man had so
suddenly lost his appetite.

But there is often a brighter and also a graver side to the
missionary's life among the red men. Incidents occur which appeal
irresistibly to his sense of humour.

One Sunday afternoon a certain noted bishop of the English Church in
Canada, who had spent most of his life as a missionary in the far
Northwest, was discoursing at considerable length to a band of Dog-rib
Indians camped at the mouth of Hay River on Great Slave Lake. His
Lordship dwelt earnestly upon the virtue of brotherly love, and
enlarged upon the beauty of the Divine saying--"It is more blessed to
give than to receive." After the service an old Indian walked up to
the preacher, piously repeated the sacred text, and intimated that he
was prepared to become the humble instrument for bringing upon his
reverence the promised blessing. To that end he was willing to receive
his lordship's hat.

The good bishop was taken aback. Realizing, however, that there was
nothing else for him to do, he took off his hat and bestowed it with
commendable cheerfulness upon his new disciple.

Another red man, jealous of his brother who was now parading in all the
splendour of the bishop's hat, claimed upon the same ground the
prelate's gaiters, and received them.