THE OLDEST CHAPEL SERVANT 149 



givest everything. And we are met at the end of 

 the day to thank our Father. Care for us through 

 the stormy night. Let the wind grow less that the 

 edge of the ice may be safe and the hunters prosper. 

 Let us not forget that Thou art watching over us, 

 day and night, giving us food and clothing and let- 

 ing us sleep in safety. Go with us to our homes and 

 live among us there, for we are weak, and we do 

 wrong so easily. Oh, how thankful we are, for the 

 sake of Jesus, Who died for us all." 



The old man's gentle, quavering voice was lost 

 in the murmur of many voices, as we joined with 

 him in saying the Lord's Prayer. Missionaries and 

 hunters, and buxom Eskimo mothers gently swaying 

 their little ones in their hoods, and tiny children 

 lisping out the long words that they had lately 

 learnt in school, all of us together, we prayed to 

 God and sang our evening hymn ; then at the words 

 of benediction, spoken in the same quiet, shaking 

 voice, we took our books and made our way home- 

 ward. 



As I climbed the steps to the hospital the oldest 

 chapel servant passed along the path below. His 

 hood was pulled low over his forehead, his shoulders 

 were bowed, and his smock drawn tightly round him 

 for the piercing, whirling wind ; he plodded steadily 

 on, sure-footed in the deepening snow that lay upon 

 the slippery path, and I watched him pass out of my 

 sight in the drift and the gathering darkness, going 

 home to his supper of seal-meat. 



it was summer-time. In the calm of the evening 



