were awake, a beautiful voice filled the dawn with melody. It was one of my father's missionaries who, alone upon the roof, sang the praise of God in that sweet and silent hour. I can hear the echo of his song even now. We children used to think that we were very near to heaven then, and we secretly imagined that the singer was an angel visitant.
We were kept quite apart from the world, and light talk and unkind gossip were things unknown to us. Some of my readers may think that I must have led a dull kind of life. Possibly I did in the eyes of the world, but it was happiness to me. As for clothes, we were content with our ordinary muslin saris, and did not see the beauty of foreign goods.
We are very hospitable in the East. In our home, if unexpected guests arrived, mother would say to us girls, if we were at home in the holidays, " Go and take what is wanted out of the store." One would cut the vegetables, and dear mother would cook, and within a short time quite a good meal would be prepared. There is such a nice word used in the Indian housekeeping world, "bart-auta," which means "end to an increase"; we never say: "there is none," or " it is finished." The stores should never be empty, but the new supplies come in before the old are finished.
I was always very much attached to my eldest brother, Karuna. I called him " Dada " (elder brother); he and I were great friends. I remember
