# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1931_S77
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

76

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER

children the children have, where the children live
and who the noteworthy daughters- and sons-in-
law are, and a dozen other items which I have no
space to mention.

After this preliminary breaking of the ice my
quarters are-made ready. The house is filled to
overflowing with the family; so the palm-leaf coy-
ered shack used for the oil-press is given to me,
and it is by far the choicest place available. The
long pole of the press, which is revolved by an ox,

‘A Group of Burmese Children?

is removed, and all traces of the ox are scraped up
and carried away, and the place-is soon as tidy as
a really and truly ground floor can-be. Curtains
which I have brought. along for the purpose are
stretched up, offering me a little privacy. But no
‘company would insure my privacy, for. the risk is
too great. I have seen many pecking eyes, and
nobody knows how many peeks I missed. My bed
‘was a Burman variety of bedstead, with nothing but
slats. _Burmans are shorter than we Americans;
so it was a problem for a while whether I should
_ tuck my- knees under my chin or let my feet pro-
‘trude into the chilly night air at the foot, when

a geometrical proposition I had worked out at high
school occurred to me, and applying it practically,
I found that with my head in one corner of the bed
and my feet in the opposite corner the stead was
quite long enough. The variety of noises about me
proved a little disturbing at first. With a ten-foot
pole I could have touched three pigs, a dozen ducks,
countless chickens, and two oxen. By adding ten
feet more to my pole, several horses and dogs would
have been swept into my circumference. All of
these animals lived under, or in the immediate
vicinity of, the house. Yet the place gave me the
impression of being clean.

I noticed many strange things about these vil-
lages. One of the most cherished occupations is
cattle-raising. I saw fine specimens on all sides.
But they brought me goats’ milk for my tea. When
I asked them why they didn’t milk their cows, they
said simply, in a tone which implied that there was
nothing more to be said, “It is not our custom
here.” I found the women much more yainde
(“jungle-ified”) than the men. Many of these
women had never been more than a couple of miles
away from the tiny villages in which they were
born. There are schools in these villages, but they
are conducted by Pongyis (Buddhist priests), and
as they are not registered or graded, they have ses-
sions whenever the Pongyis feel disposed, which is
not often, judging from my observation. But
enough education is given so that practically the
whole male population of these villages is literate,
a fact. which helps wonderfully in the spreading
of the Gospel; for the people can and do read the
tracts and Gospel portions we circulate among them.
One of my host’s grandchildren had a nasty cough.
I gave a little medicine out of my chest, which did
wonders. Soon I found that my medical reputation
was spreading. A paralytic was brought to me
and a man with a crushed foot. If I had not com-
pletely discouraged these patients, I don’t doubt but
that I would soon have had a whole multitude of
sick and halt and blind waiting upon me. It made
me wish that the Lord Jesus had given to me, as
He gave to the seventy, powers of healing. The
cartman from this same village developed a power-
ful headache on the road in order -that he might
have some pills out of that same case.

Christian work among these villages pays won-
derfully well for the little effort we can give to it.
The influence of previous missionaries is still tell-
ing, and besides, my preachers are very faithful.
In fact, they are faithful beyond. my powers of en-
durance. After a long walk to a village over sandy