‘Is not this a funny little glimpse of life?... I doubt myself that there is much use in Conferences, except that it is nice that some dear workers should meet and know each other. We had many very choice ones.’
More than a year later Miss Tucker referred again to this Conference, when writing to Mrs. Hamilton upon the subject of whether or not secular teaching in schools should be undertaken by Missionary ladies:—
‘I cannot explain to you all the difficulties that surround the question. We had a kind of wordy battle on the matter at the Ladies’ Conference; and it was no good! When a lady proposed another Conference after another five years, I suggested after ten, but no one seconded poor Char! I am not calm and phlegmatic enough for these discussions, and, I am afraid, do not always see both sides of a question. I more and more now mistrust my own judgment, and sometimes feel rather disgusted with—myself!’
There are thousands of people who lack the power of looking on both sides of a question; but among them all few are humble enough to acknowledge the fact!—still more, to distrust their own judgment.
When the Conference was over, Miss Tucker remarked to one of her companions, ‘I proposed ten years, because I thought that then I should not be here.’ She was ‘here’ five years later, but was within a few months of her call Home.
‘March 17, 1888.—I will tell you of a curious surprise I had a few days ago. I was in my duli in one of the streets of Batala, when I met one of my most highly respected Native friends, the dear old Pandit, now the Rev. K. S.... A crowded street is not the place for a talk. The Pandit asked me to go to his village, O——, and had evidently some particular reason for his request. As the next day was one of my village days, I promised to go then.... If I thought much about the cause of a visit being desired, I guessed that it either concerned some Mission work, or the health of the good Bibi. But I was utterly wide of the mark, and so I think will my Laura and Leila be, if they take to guessing.
‘The dear couple had set their hearts on presenting me with a beautiful, richly embroidered white Cashmere shawl, which the Bibi, I know not how long ago, had bought ... from some one in distress. In vain I expostulated, in vain said that the lovely shawl was fit for the Queen, and that it was not suitable for me to wear anything so handsome; that it might be sold for the Mission. Both the smiling husband and wife were determined to have it round my shoulders; and I had to go away wearing it, though I took it off in the duli, and took care of it, as if it had been a child. Now, the Pandit and his wife want nothing from me; this was no case of giving in hopes of receiving. The whole thing took me by surprise.’
‘April 21.—We are soon to go—all in the heat—to share a 3 P.M. dinner at the Corfields, and meet the Bishop, Mr. Clark, and dear Herbert,—such a galaxy of good men, that we won’t mind the heat, especially as my plump wadded umbrella is a real protection.
‘I am reading—slowly—like a child enjoying a cake, that delightful Life of Bishop Gobat. I mean to buy a copy for myself; it would be so good for lending or extracting from. It is such a humbling book too. I feel like a barn-door chicken looking up at an eagle, and chirping, “I’m a bird too!” A pretty difference between them! Now to put on your sun-hat, and be off.’
‘April 26.—You are quite right if you think your unnamed convert’s idea of his baptism killing his mother a false one. It seems the regular trick here to draw back converts from Christ by telling them of a mother’s illness. We feel in such cases the force of our Lord’s words, “Let the dead bury their dead!” It seems hard at first; but experience shows us how needful is the caution.’