The Straight University has a large attendance; the school is making good progress in its various departments of literary and industrial work.
After the meeting of the Louisiana Association, I visited the work at Thibodeaux, Schriever, Chacahoula, Abbeville, Lake Charles and New Iberia. At several places a deep religious interest was awakened, and a large number avowed their faith in the Saviour.
A new church has been organized at Lake Charles, La., with thirty members. It gives promise of growth and fruitful service. Rev. S. J. Wood, a graduate of Straight University, is pastor. The people bought a lot, and the Church-Building Society aided them in buying a meeting-house which has been removed to their lot.
Three miles from Fort Davis Station, on the Georgia and Alabama Railroad, and forty miles from Montgomery, is our Cotton Valley School, which is located in the heart of the Black Belt of Alabama. This country school is the one bright spot in the lives of the large population of poor black people of Cotton Valley. It is in charge of four young women, graduates of Fisk University—Miss Carrie Alexander, Principal, and Misses Pearl Binford, Lelia Haynie and Lizzie B. Moore. Besides the school work, the teachers visit the people in their cabin homes, hold mothers' meetings, Sunday-school, Christian Endeavor and Junior Endeavor meetings, sewing classes, a literary society and singing-school. It is a veritable social settlement. The people look to these young women for advice, medicine and help in all kinds of ways. They have won the love and confidence of the people, and gladly help them in all ways. The school is under the management of the American Missionary Association, and is supported by the Woman's Missionary Union of Massachusetts. The school is located in a most needy field for mission work. A teachers' home is greatly needed. The teachers occupy the log cabin home built by the first missionary teacher, Mrs. Lillian V. Courtney, nee Davis. This cabin home has done good service; but a larger home is needed for the teachers, with facilities for industrial training for girls.
BITS OF EXPERIENCE IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY.
MISS M. P. LORD.
Little-Dog was very sick, they said. We thought of the beautiful two-year-old boy whom he had loved with all a father's tenderness, and of the day when he had come and told us of the child's death; and how his eyes were still inflamed with weeping; and how grateful he was for the little food, and for the words of comfort we had tried to give him.
His home was ten or fifteen miles up the winding river, with two fording-places between. We found at the first a broad, swift stream, swollen by a recent rain. We were glad we had made preparations before starting in, for the water flowed six inches deep over the buggy floor. At the village beyond, Cross-Bear advised us to return by another road, as the river was still rising. Long-Feather, with whose family we also stopped to shake hands, gave the same advice, saying that he would see us safely over the next crossing, but that he was just starting on a long drive in the opposite direction. Good-Boy, who lived near the fording-place, would help, he said. So, following directions, Good-Boy was found. His pony was quickly saddled, and galloping on ahead he piloted us not only to the river-crossing, but all the way to Little Dog's, some miles beyond.
Mrs. Little-Dog and ten-year-old Martin greeted us at the door, and inside the house we were cordially welcomed by the blind and almost helpless sufferer. The wife said, "I wanted to go and get medicine for him, but there was no one to take care of him while I was gone." They were miles from the nearest neighbor. And the sick man added, "I didn't like to have our little boy go so far alone." When the physical pain and needs were relieved so far as possible, I asked if there was a Bible. In answer the sick man turned and reached under the pillow at the farther corner of the bed, from which he drew out a little bag, and from that he carefully—almost tenderly, it seemed—took his Dakota Bible and handed me. Such times of drawing near to God, in the homes of sick or sorrowing ones, mean quite as much of added strength and cheer to the white visitor as to those who are visited, and we always come away feeling so glad that we went. Tears were in the woman's eyes as the good-byes were said; and the little boy, with his pony saddled, watched us out of sight, to be sure that we were started on the right road home, as we had been directed.