congregation appeared to be the mourners, nor was poor Wilhadus well
enough to follow his wife's remains to their last resting-place. After
singing a verse in front of the church, the procession moved slowly
onward to the burial ground, where Mr. Kaestner read the litany, and
the responses and singing were beautifully reverent. At his signal the
coffins were lowered into the graves, and he spoke the concluding
blessing at each.

I was present at a marriage service last Sunday. The young bridegroom
and bride sat together on two stools in the middle of the church. They
were simply and plainly dressed in clean white "sillapaks," _i.e._,
light calico tunics edged with broad braid, mostly red. The woman's
was rather more ornamental than the man's, and had a longer tail
hanging over her skirts. She had a ring on one finger, but that played
no part in the ceremony. In his opening address the minister named the
pair. William Tuktusna comes from the South, and possesses both
Christian name and surname, which is unusual for an Eskimo. The woman
is called Amalie. Both replied with a clear "Ahaila" (yes) to the
usual questions of the marriage service. They then gave the hand to
one another, and, kneeling down, a prayer and the Old Testament
blessing confirmed the solemn contract, into which they had entered
before God. As usual the congregation sang the response, "Jêsum
akkâne, Amen." (In the name of Jesus, Amen).

Amalie cried a little during the ceremony, and more as she followed
her husband out of the church, but the heathen custom of feigning
sorrow on such an occasion is dying out. At first she refused
William's offer, made through their missionary, but afterwards she
thought better of it. May the Lord give them a happy and holy union of
heart and life!