_On Her Own_

"Mary, how would you like to have a mission station of your own?" asked
Daddy Anderson.

"Why, I'd love it," answered Mary.

"It is hard work and very unpleasant at times," said Daddy Anderson.

"I don't care how hard or unpleasant it is," said Mary, "as long as I can
work for my Lord."

"Good, then you will be in charge of the Old Town Station, two miles up the
river."

It did not take Mary long to pack her things and move to Old Town. But what
a sight greeted her when she arrived! The first thing she saw as she came
into the village was a man's skull hanging from the end of a pole and
swinging slowly in the breeze.

"Where is the mission house?" asked Mary of one of the natives.

"Down that way at the end of the road, Ma," he answered.

Mary found the mission house. It was an old tumble-down shack. It was made
of long twigs and branches, daubed over with mud. The roof was made of
palm leaves. It was not nearly as nice a home as the one on Mission Hill in
Duke Town. When Mary went inside, she found that it was whitewashed and
somewhat clean. Mary got busy cleaning up her house, and as she did, she