“I am a missionary.”
The stranger smiled, for he had purposely avoided the offensive epithet, and was amused and conciliated by the missionary’s frank use of it. “And so you make people believe in Jesus Christ?”
“I try to.”
The visitor laughed outright; then, as if a little ashamed of his rudeness, he composed his features, and with his usual courtesy resumed, “My little son has heard of you, sir; and he is very anxious to learn something about Jesus Christ. It is a pretty story that you tell of that man—prettier, I think, than any of our fables; and you need not be afraid to set it forth in its brightest colors; for my Moung-Moung will never see through its absurdity, of course.”
The missionary threw a quick, scrutinizing glance on the face of his visitor. He saw that the man was ill at ease, that his carelessness was entirely assumed, and that underneath all, there was a deep, wearing anxiety, which he fancied was in some way connected with his boy. “Ah! you think so? To what particular story do you allude?”
“Why, that of the strange sort of being you call Jesus Christ—a nät, or prince, or something of that sort—dying for us poor fellows and so—ha, ha! The absurdity of the thing makes me laugh; though there is something in it beautiful, too. Our stupid pongyees would never have thought out anything one half so fine; and the pretty fancy has quite enchanted little Moung-Moung here.”
“I perceive you are a pâramät,” said the missionary.
“No—oh, no; I am a true worshipper of Lord Gaudama; but of course neither you nor I subscribe to all the fables of our respective religions. There is quite enough that is honest and reasonable in our Boodhistic system to satisfy me, but my little son” (here the father seemed embarrassed, and laughed again, as though to cover his confusion) “is bent on philosophical investigation—eh, Moung-Moung?”
“But are you not afraid that my teachings will do the child harm?”
The visitor looked up with a broad smile of admiration, as though he would have said, “You are a very honest fellow, after all;” then regarding the child with a look of mingled tenderness and apprehension, he said softly, “Nothing can harm little Moung-Moung, sir.”