THE CROWD AND THE SINGING 



together to make room for " just one more." I felt 

 sure that the last straw would be reached some day, 

 but the people always said " Namatuinarput " (they 

 are quite all right) when I expressed my fears. But 

 the last straw came and a very substantial last straw 

 it was in the person of big Tabea. She came in 

 rather late one morning and stood looking round 

 for a place with all the dignity and consequence 

 of the prosperous middle-aged Eskimo matron. 

 There were no empty seats, but a comfortable- 

 looking party of village worthies made room or 

 an apology for room for her in the middle of 

 their well-filled bench. Tabea sat down ponderously 

 and with deliberation ; there was an ominous creak- 

 ing and the bench collapsed with a clatter, heaping 

 its occupants into a wild scrimmage on the floor. 

 I could hardly keep my face straight when I saw 

 them shove the broken bench aside and compose 

 themselves upon the floor as gravely as you please. 



If all this had happened out of doors they would 

 have laughed, I have no doubt, but this was meeting- 

 time, when folks do not laugh ; and it speaks well for 

 the gravity of the Eskimo character that the ludicrous 

 spectacle of the collapsing bench and the struggling 

 dignitaries on the floor did not even cause a titter. 



Peter and David stayed behind after prayers, and 

 sawed the unfortunate bench into strips, which they 

 used to strengthen others that were beginning to 

 look rather shaky about the legs ; and I took the 

 precaution of announcing a limit to the seating 

 capacity of the benches for the future. 



273 



