# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1914_S84
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

an ornament.”

84 The Lutheran Pioneer.

And when the same missionary
alluded to a certain animal as the type of filth
and uncleanness, his hearers indignantly cried,
“Flow can you speak in such a manner about the
pig! It is our good friend and companion.” But

. who ean describe the consternation of this mis-

sionary when he heard how a native called a pig
by the name of a fellow-missionary! When taken
to task because of this gross disrespect, the native
declared that he had given the name to his pet
pig to honor the dear brother.

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sleeping conscience was at last aroused. One day
a native came to one of the missionaries and said,
“We know that you white men are strange people.
Your words are just like your medicine. We don’t
like it, and yet we take it. And when we have
swallowed it, it upsets our insides, and whistles
about our ears, and drives the bad out of our
bodies.” One day, after a severe sermon, in which
their sins had been thoroughly castigated, a depu-
tation waited on the missionary and asked him
not to use such disquieting words in future. When

A PapuangjChief and His Dwelling.

. The Ten Commandments at first seemed wholly
beyond the understanding of the Papuans. All
the sins forbidden seemed perfectly natural and
good to them. Revenge was self-evident, sorcery
yery desirable, and lying absolutely necessary. Their
lying’ was so original and shameless that one-was
often tempted to condone it. It was the same
with stealing. Some of their adventures while
stealing were so droll and were told so innocently
that missionaries were at times tempted to forget
the immorality of the deeds.

From this the difficulty of the task confronting
the missionaries can easily be seen. And yet the

the missionary asked them whether he had not
always proved to be their friend, they answered,
“Yes, of course, you have. You don’t beat us, but
your words tear off all our clothes, and we see
how bad we are, and we don’t like that.” The
same missionary relates how late one Sunday night
somebody knocked at his door, and when he opened
it, there stood a man with a hatchet in his hand.
The man was trembling. “Here, Hoffmann,” said
he, “here is your property. “I had stolen it. No-
body knows it, but since I heard your words this
morning, I have no peace. I can’t sleep. Take
your hatchet, and let me have peace.” We may