“Have you seen my Chinaman! Have you seen my Chinaman anywhere on the way!”

It was the missionary, distracted and running violently after us; and, we had not seen her Chinaman. She rushed past and up into the woods faster than one would have thought she could run, and all the time she kept calling, “Joseph! Joseph!” at the top of her voice. We decided that Joseph was the Chinaman’s new Christian name since we had heard that they all get Biblical names at baptism. We hastened along, thinking she might have gone suddenly mad and we wondered what in the world we should do. But as we came around a bend in the road we saw her coming toward us with a grinning little queued heathen marching meekly before her. She was looking very much relieved and stopped to explain her rather extraordinary conduct.

“I was perfectly certain that boy had committed suicide,” she began.

“Why, what made you think that?” I asked.