The girls form two groups—the large girls dressed in blue and white and the little girls dressed in pink and white. They seem neat and happy. They rendered a program for us which would have done credit to any teaching here at home:
Singing—“He Who Safely Keepeth” School
Recitation—“The Burden” Miss Jahlamae
Singing—“Sweet and Low” Misses Nichols, Gibson, Tucker, Wisner
Dialogue—“Patience” A class
Singing—“Wider Than the Ocean” School
Recitation—“The Echo” A class
Recitation—“The Hurry Order” Miss Wood
Singing—“Those Eternal Bowers” School
Recitation—“Genesis, Chap. XLIX” A class
Recitation—“The Chambered Nautilus” Miss Wright
Recitation—“Jephtha’s Daughter” Miss Muhlenberg
Singing—“The Whole Wide World” School
It is particularly interesting to see the harmony and friendship here. Some of the girls are Liberians, but there are also native girls from various parts of the country and from various tribes—Golas, Krus, Grebos. We went to the dining room, which had been cleared, and the girls went through with a calisthenic drill, which was beautifully rendered. Mrs. Moort is in charge of the school and deserves much credit for its satisfactory condition. After this drill was over we sat down to a table loaded with good things, and some of the larger girls aided in the serving. One of the aims of the school is to teach work and housekeeping. The school property includes two hundred acres of land, which will supply much of the food needed in school and provide opportunity for instruction in gardening.
The Bishop stated that we must not tarry, as we were expected at Clay-Ashland. A half hour by steamer brought us to its landing, where the resident clergyman, Mr. Cooper, son-in-law of Bishop Ferguson, met us. We walked up through a straggling settlement to the little church, near which a sign in brilliant lettering announced “Welcome.” Here we turned to the right and in a moment reached Alexander Crummell Hall, in construction. Here another brilliant lettering proclaimed “A Hearty Welcome to You.” The building is to be of wood with corrugated iron roofing; it is not yet covered in, but promises to be a fine and suitable structure. Only the side verandah was usable; it was covered in and adorned with palms in honor of the occasion. The boys and young men were seated on two lines of benches facing, between which we walked up to the speaker’s table. There were perhaps forty students present. They carried through a little program—reading, singing and addresses, all carried through with fine swing and vigor. The address of welcome was given in good English by a Bassa boy. In some interesting and appropriate remarks Major Young spoke to the boys of the life and lesson of Alexander Crummell, in whose honor the hall was named and whom he himself had known. It was now well on in the afternoon and time for us to start on our return journey. This was rapidly accomplished as the current was in our favor and we tied up at the landing in Monrovia at 6:30, with stars twinkling in the sky above us and town lights reflected in the water below.
Bishop Ferguson had invited me to see the Kru service on a Sunday afternoon. Two Kru men called to escort me to the little chapel, which is situated on a rocky slope overhanging Krutown. The native settlement is at the waterside, upon the low sandy beach; its population, houses and life are purely native. Down there they speak Kru; men and boys all know English; some women and girls do. It is a hardy, vigorous, energetic population. The men are water folk; they are splendid canoe men; they are the main dependence of the steamers, which they serve as crews and wharfingers. When we arrived at the little chapel we found it crowded; more than a hundred men, women and children were assembled. The women were a sight for tired eyes, with their brilliant wrappings, gay head bands and ring-loaded fingers. Few Liberians were present—Bishop and Mrs. Ferguson, Superintendent Bright and a few teachers. Pastor McKrae is native—but a Grebo, not a Kru. The two tribes are related and their languages are very similar. I was warmly welcomed and an interesting program of singing and recitation was carried out—all in Kru except the Bishop’s introduction and my own remarks, which were interpreted from English into Kru as we spoke. These people are enthusiastic; they are interested in their chapel and contribute to its support; they are crowded in their present quarters and are about to raise a larger and finer building.
I had intended to see the work at Cape Palmas, but it was impossible for me to go there. For that at Bromley, Clay-Ashland and Kru chapel I have only words of praise. My own opinion is that Liberia’s greatest asset is the native. He exists in a score of independent tribes and counts a million souls. If the little black republic is to hold its own, if it is to remain a nation among nations, if it is to lead the way to African redemption, there must be a mutual realization by Liberians and Natives of their common interest, and a hearty co-operation. The burden is too heavy for the Liberian alone. In Bishop Ferguson’s work there is the nearest approach to tolerance, union, brotherhood and mutual helpfulness seen during my expedition.
LIBERIA, THE HOPE OF THE DARK CONTINENT.
(Unity. March 20, 1913.)
An address given at All Souls Church, Abraham Lincoln Centre, Chicago, March 9, 1913. As this contains little that is not contained in the next item, and nothing but what occurs in the body of the book, it is not reprinted here.