IN SCHOOL 



been the same ever since the Eskimos were known ; 

 far back in the old heathen days it was the same ; 

 the child was a prospective hunter. As I wandered 

 on the headlands that jut into the sea from the 

 heights of Okak Island I found many an old heathen 

 grave, with the mouldering weapons and the moss- 

 grown pots laid beside the mouldering bones ; and 

 I found the children's graves among the rest, with 

 the tiny toy lamp and cooking-pot and the toy 

 harpoon placed beside the child when they laid 

 him away in his heap of stones above the frozen 

 soil. 



And to-day, when the Eskimos are a Christian 

 nation, touched by the finger of civilisation, the 

 children, boys and girls, are spending their playtime 

 in fitting themselves for the hard life that is their 

 heritage. 



But nowadays life is not all play, though it be 

 playing at work. During the months of winter, 

 when the people are grouped at the Mission stations, 

 there are regular school hours for the children. I 

 walked in one day at Okak when Benjamin was 

 drilling arithmetic into the heads of a score of 

 bright-eyed little Eskimos, and the picture of that 

 Eskimo school class is one of the most vivid of my 

 many pictures of Labrador life. 



"What is four times four?" said Benjamin. 

 The little eyes stared, and the little mouths opened, 

 and the little fingers began to count under the 

 shadow of the desk. Benjamin made it easier. 

 ' I saw four sledges," he said. There was a general 

 ji heave of interest : Benjamin was going to tell them 

 a story. They shuffled their feet and elbows, and 

 settled down to listen. " I saw four sledges : they 



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