hanging plants, suspended in brightly painted pots, shaded the length of the veranda, which stretched along three sides of the building. The missionary hostess cared for her guests in the same motherly fashion that a hen keeps vigil over her brood. Homegrown food was prepared in delicious ways, and there was plenty. For some mysterious reason, Millie had imagined that, as soon as her feet were on Brazilian soil, she would suffer a scarcity of food. She found herself sitting down to meals of fluffy rice, juicy beans boiled with plantains, fried bananas sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, sauteed pumpkin, and many such treats. Of course, economy was practiced, but there is a way of making the best of a very little. The first day, as the new recruits sat down at the dinner table, they were introduced to a hearty littleWelshman in from the tribes. Beneath the shock of hair, which stood on end, were two deep- set blue eyes, holding in them something of the sorrows as well as the compensations of long contact with primitiveness. He was the embodiment of what inspires newcomers to the mission field: simplicity ( his luggage was one wooden trunk and a hammock sack), quiet, humble zeal, a sense of humor, and deep spirituality. He looked earnestly at Harry, sitting across the table, and said, “I have seen you before. Are you from England?” “No.” “That is odd. Your face is very distinct in my memory. I feel sure I have seen you somewhere, and that it was in my own country of Wales.”
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