"So you see, Ellen, I made up my mind then and there when the gentleman spoke that I would be a missionary when I was growed-up."
"But," said Ellen, with round eyes, "you want to be eddicated, don't yer? And how are you to get over the seas? And what will yer do when yer gets there?"
"Oh, that 'll all come very easy," said Peggy loftily. "You has to make up yer mind that you is goin', first thing; same as I did about goin' into service. Then yer has to set to work to get yer clo's, same's I did too. But my Miss Helen told me, 'tis very hot where the heathen live, and they don't wear much clo's, not to speak of. So I dessay I shall do fine. P'raps three cotton dresses, and a hat would last quite a long time—and no jacket, you see—that 'ud save wonderful."
"But what would you do when you got there?" persisted Ellen.
"I'd have my Bible under my arm," said Peggy solemnly, "and I'd tell 'em all to come round me, very quiet like. I wouldn't have no pushin' or fightin'. And then I'd read 'em about Jesus."
"And nothin' else?"
"Well," said Peggy, considering, "I think I'd tell 'em very distinckly that Jesus died to let 'em go to heaven. I'd tell 'em He loved 'em, and they must be good, and He'd help 'em if they arsked Him, same as He does me."
"And then what?"
"Oh," said Peggy, still thoughtfully, "I s'pose they'd ask a few questions, and then p'raps we'd 'ave a hymn, same as the street preachers do in London, and then I'd have done till the next day. I don't expec' it would be very differcult, Ellen—not if you set yer mind to it."
"But I heard tell," said Ellen, "that people over the sea don't speak English like us do, and can't understand it. Like a Frenchman who came to our village inn once."