AWELCOME 47 



a hymn for you." The handwriting was that of 

 the missionary. Evidently Ruth had thought that I 

 might not understand her if she spoke Eskimo, so 

 she had got her message written down. 



While I was studying the paper the door opened 

 again, and I looked for Ruth. But there was a 

 pause in the proceedings, and a queer sound of 

 whispering and scuffling and scraping of feet on 

 the boards ; then in came old Jafet. Jafet is Ruth's 

 husband. And in he came, a feeble old man, peer- 

 ing and blinking, and obviously propelled from the 

 rear by Ruth's encouraging hand. He seemed very 

 nervous and perhaps a trifle awed ; but in he came, 

 with a grunt in acknowledgment to my "aksunai," 

 and after him came Ruth. 



The two old people sat down, and Ruth opened 

 her hymn-book. She licked her thumb and turned 

 the pages, and held the book to the light to see the 

 better, and wiped her spectacles with the tail of 

 her smock, and turned more pages. She knew what 

 she wanted, and with a " h'm " to clear her throat 

 she thrust a share of the book into Jafet's trembling 

 hand and began to sing. An energetic nudge from 

 Ruth's elbow, and Jafet joined in with his quavering 

 baritone ; and there I sat, listening to a hymn of 

 welcome and encouragement from an Eskimo 

 Darby and Joan. Can you imagine anything more 

 touching } I was new to Labrador ; I could speak 

 no more Eskimo than the mere words of greeting ; 

 I had, so far, met but few of the people ; but there 

 sat the old couple, grasping each a corner of the 

 book, bending their heads low to see the words, 



