“And what are you going to be some day?” she continued.
“I am going to snatch my brothers from misery and ignorance. I am going to teach them, to bring them to know and love God. I am going to be a missionary.”
Words like those, spoken with such animation from a child of only eight years, might have provoked a smile in light, scoffing auditors, but they were understood and appreciated by the grave Scotch, who admired the courage of this young disciple, already armed for the battle. Even Paganel was stirred to the depths of his heart, and felt his warmer sympathy awakened for the poor child.
To speak the truth, up to that moment he did not care much for a savage in European attire. He had not come to Australia to see Australians in coats and trousers. He preferred them simply tattooed, and this conventional dress jarred on his preconceived notions. But the child’s genuine religious fervor won him over completely. Indeed, the wind-up of the conversation converted the worthy geographer into his best friend.
It was in reply to a question Lady Helena had asked, that Toline said he was studying at the Normal School in Melbourne, and that the principal was the Reverend Mr. Paxton.
“And what do they teach you?” she went on to say.
“They teach me the Bible, and mathematics, and geography.”
Paganel pricked up his ears at this, and said, “Indeed, geography!”
“Yes, sir,” said Toline; “and I had the first prize for geography before the Christmas holidays.”
“You had the first prize for geography, my boy?”