‘As I went along in my duli, a kind of square box carried by men, to-day, to visit villages, I thought that the Giant-Killer—only the parable part, which would make a very moderate-sized book—might have a large circulation here. Natives like parables; and though the English portion of the volume, describing the Roby family, might not be suited to Oriental readers, Giant Sloth, Selfishness, etc., are quite as troublesome in India as in England. Would you like to make an experiment with this small publication? If so, I should gladly myself purchase for poor India £10 of cheap copies,—not more than sixpence each,—to be sent as from me to the Christian Vernacular Society’s House, Madras. As soon as I heard of the parcel being shipped, I would send the cheque.’
When Miss Tucker was first starting for India, her brother, Mr. Henry Carre Tucker, had written to her upon the subject of literature for that land; and a short quotation from his letter may be appropriately given here. ‘The great thing at present,’ he wrote, ‘is to disseminate widely Christian Vernacular Literature in all the languages, and suitable to the requirements of all classes, men, women, and children; rich and poor; educated and ignorant. Government is rapidly teaching most of the boys to read. We Christians must provide them with a wholesome literature. Few women and girls can be reached personally, but books penetrate everywhere, and may do an untold amount of secret silent good. The preparation and distribution of such Literature ought to be your great object. You might organise Female Colporteurs for the Zenanas and womenkind.’ This last suggestion Miss Tucker does not seem ever to have taken up, or attempted to carry out.
Books for English readers still went on appearing from time to time. In 1885 she published Pictures of St. Paul; and in 1886 Pictures of St. Peter followed. In 1887 came The Fairy in a Web, and Driven into Exile. The year 1888 also saw two—The Hartley Brothers, and Harold’s Bride, both being continuations of the two Picture volumes, named above. In 1889 Beyond the Black Waters was brought out; in 1890 The Blacksmith of Boniface Lane; in 1891 The Iron Chain and the Golden; and in 1892 The Forlorn Hope. When one considers her age, her failing health, and her ceaseless Zenana toil, one cannot but be astonished at the mental energy shown in getting through such an amount of writing as this.
On the 17th of February Miss Maria Hoernle left Batala, with the purpose of soon proceeding to England; and Miss Tucker wrote next day:—
‘So closes a leaf of my life; for I doubt whether I shall again see on Earth one who nursed me too devotedly in 1885. Maria prefers Bengal to the Panjab; so, if she return, we have hardly a chance of meeting, unless perhaps at some Hill-Station.... I wonder if my dear Bhatija Francis Baring will ever return to India. He was for long my sole European companion.... Think of sixty-five Communicants last Sunday in Batala! We never had so many before.... The Bishop was pleased,—though tired by his village tour, seeing the seven little congregations of the Batala district.’
‘March 7.—You must not think of converts, love, as the fruits of my labour, but that, by God’s blessing, of others. I have so many Zenanas and villages, with limited strength, that hardly one place gets more than one visit from me in a month, some not even that! My employment is trying to pull up weeds that cumber, and to sow good seed; but I have no time to water,—or very little, so far as Zenanas are concerned.’
The 8th of May, Miss Tucker’s sixty-ninth birthday, passed quietly, without the usual feasting, on account of the death, three days before, of Babu Singha’s wife, who, as Miss Tucker wrote,—‘fell asleep in Jesus,’after some twenty-eight years of happy married life. The letter of May 8 is very full of sympathy with the bereaved husband and the nine children. In the latter half of the same letter, finished next day, comes the mention of ‘another book’ just written. ‘I am making out the fair copy in my seventieth year. I have regarded Beyond the Black Waters as my chrysanthemum, a winter plant, lingering on even till December. But my Blacksmith of Boniface Lane must be a little sprig of holly. It has its prickles and its red berries. It has a historical—I suppose that I should say—root, not basis.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘June 4, 1890.
‘We had a very uncommon visitor, who came at about 4 A.M. on the 1st of June. I do not think that he ever came before. What say you to a Bagh-i-bilae, or Tiger-cat? He wanted to steal Miss Dixie’s chickens, but lost his own life,—six men succeeding in the difficult task of killing the fierce beast. We have kept his skin, which measures three feet five inches from the tip of the nose to the end of his rather shabby tail; so you see that he was a remarkable cat. The colour pale grey, with a darker stripe down the back. There must have been another curious visitor, and one who also left his skin, but without giving any one the trouble of killing him. The day after the death of the Bagh-i-bilae, Minnie found in her bath-room the overcoat of a snake about four feet long. He has made us a present of it; for there is no use in advertising for the owner of the skin. He gives it us gratis!’