An Englishwoman's twenty-five years in tropical Africa: being the biography of Gwen Elen Lewis, missionary to the Cameroons and the Congo . ernoons, but as yet I cannot get any girls toschool. Some want to come very much, and onelittle thing came several afternoons running ; butshe has been stopped by her master, and it is thesame with the others; so there is nothing for itbut patience. They will come in time. I do allI can to make friends with the women; I go roundthe towns as often as possible with the girls, soas to get them accustomed to me and to get toknow them. Just now there seems noth
An Englishwoman's twenty-five years in tropical Africa: being the biography of Gwen Elen Lewis, missionary to the Cameroons and the Congo . ernoons, but as yet I cannot get any girls toschool. Some want to come very much, and onelittle thing came several afternoons running ; butshe has been stopped by her master, and it is thesame with the others; so there is nothing for itbut patience. They will come in time. I do allI can to make friends with the women; I go roundthe towns as often as possible with the girls, soas to get them accustomed to me and to get toknow them. Just now there seems nothing butburials ; day and night the drums are going, andthe people dancing and howling. The darknessis appalling to think of, and although the light ishere, as yet they will not come to it. Of courseit is nothing new; but it is so different fromwhere we have been before. There the difficultywas to find time to talk to all the people whowanted to be taught; here the trouble is to getthe people to listen. September 30th.—Well! here there is nothingto write about. Tom is housebuilding, assistedby Mr. Hooper, who teaches the boys in the. 1902] LIFE AT KIBOKOLO 241 afternoon, and studies the language in theevenings. They both of them take prayers in turn,to which we try to get the people to come, withoutmuch success so far. As for me, I am a kind ofmaid-of-all-work. I am housekeeper, gardener,organist, and occasional preacher, , when theyboth go out on Sunday morning. Sometimes, too,I go round to the towns on Sunday afternoon andhold a service. Last Sunday, after hunting every-body up, I got thirty, sometimes we only gettwo or three. One of the women who lives closeby has just been here to sell plantain. I asked herwhy she did not come to service; she said, Whatwill you give me for coming ? and that is theanswer one usually gets. October 8, 1902. (A circular letter.)—A sadtrouble has befallen us. As I write I look fromthe window upon the still smoking ruins of whatbut two day
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