“The Captain’s plan was to land us on Sunday morning, lie off and on till Monday to land our luggage and some wood John had bought on Aneityum, and then return for the McDonalds at Port Resolution on his way northward. Mrs. Milne and I lay pillowed on deck, enjoying the moonlight till quite late, and having such a musical treat from Mr. Michelsen, who sings and accompanies himself on the guitar with great taste. He had been playing it on deck in the afternoon, and we begged him to bring it up again after tea. The moon was brilliantly reflected on the water, and the ship lying so still, when he began with the exquisite guitar accompaniment to sing ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’—the Missionaries standing round and joining softly in parts, while we were quietly crying. I have heard Oratorios in the old country rendered so that they almost took one out of the body, but never anything that went to my heart like this! You would need to take in the whole circumstances to know how we felt it. The Vessel, with her little band of Missionaries so far from kindred and country, and about to separate for their lonely homes, and we knew not how much trial awaiting them!...
“We have already 600 lbs. of Arrowroot (to pay for the Gospel-books) put up, mostly in 10 lb. bags. The Natives are still making more, and the demands upon me for calico have been endless. After ransacking boxes for every inch that could be got to dry it upon and to make bags, I had to sacrifice all my common sheets and table-cloths; and, while trying to bear up under this calamity with Christian fortitude, John roused all the old Adam in me, by coolly bidding me be quick and get out my _linen_ ones and best table-cloths, as it was a splendid day for drying! I emphatically declared that my few best things should remain untouched, though the Natives should never get their books; and, by a little management in making the others do, I have kept to my _wicked_ vow....
“It is now the 1st of August, though I see that I began this on the 8th of July, and I have not begun to write a single _private_ letter, and so many to answer; and the huge piles, which made our eyes dance with joy on receiving them, are regarded rather ruefully, now that we have got to reply to them! I must leave out, therefore, all other items of interest which I intended writing, as this is already far too long,—and close with warmest love from
“Your ever-loving Sister, “MAGGIE WHITECROSS PATON.”
(1879.)