‘Nov. 29, 1879.
‘Yesterday, at last, the cricket-match between our School and the big Government School came off. We challenged the Government School long ago; but they took no notice. Yesterday, however, a match was arranged between our Christian School and the Government one, which is about ten or twelve times as large. We were much the first on the ground, and were kept waiting for more than an hour. Most of our Eleven wore red-checked flannel vests, but R. the captain had a becoming grey one.... At last the match commenced; but it was hardly worth calling one. The Government lads could not hold their own in the least! The whole Eleven only made 5 runs between them!
‘It was a very different thing when our boys took the batting. It does one good to hear the thud from R.’s bat when he sends the ball flying ever so far. He and S. made, I think, 87 runs, and were never bowled out. The rest of our boys had no turns at all; for the sun went down, and still R. and S., tired, but unconquered, held their wickets. What is most pleasing is that our boys did not crow as they might have done,—their opponents were too utterly smashed. Had the contest been a close one, there would have been plenty of cheering.
‘I really hope that it may do good for it to be known through Batala that, in a manly game, the Hindus and Muhammadans “cannot hold a candle” to the Christian boys, who go preaching and singing hymns on Sunday! Piety is all the more attractive from union with manliness.
‘Dec. 8.—Mera Bhatija intends to start a reading-room in the city in 1880, with Bibles in various languages, books, and some Native periodicals. The Illustrated—if you think of continuing it—will form one of the baits. Many lads now can read a little English; and the pictures will form an attraction.’
CHAPTER X
A.D. 1880-1881
LOYAL AND TRUE
The series of extracts from letters, through the year 1879, given in the last chapter, will convey a fair general idea of how many succeeding years were passed. To quote with equal fulness from each year would mean—not one comparatively small volume, but two large ones; and, however interesting the subject-matter in itself, readers might be expected to grow weary.
Year after year Charlotte Tucker lived on in the old palace, which had so strangely become her home, surrounded by the brown boys, whom she loved; and by the spring of 1880 they had grown to forty in number. Year after year she wrote little booklets for the Natives of India. Year after year she persisted in her steady round of Zenana visits; not, like the average district-visitor of England, going once a fortnight or once a week into her district,—which was the whole city of Batala,—but day after day giving hours to the work, never daunted because results seemed small, never apparently even tempted to throw up her arduous task in despair. She had to plough for the Master of the harvest; and she was content to leave results with Him.