at, another that he would strip off his skin to make a drum with, and a
third predicted he would make a drinking-cup of his skull. A kind
motherly dame said, as she wiped the tear from her eye and bade him
farewell, "Had you been an old man it would have been nothing, for you
would soon have died, whether or no; but you are young, and going to
become a prey to that monster."

On one occasion Moffat halted at a farm belonging to a Boer, a man of
wealth and importance, who had many slaves. Hearing that he was a
missionary, the farmer gave him a hearty welcome, and proposed in the
evening that he should give them a service. To this he readily assented,
and supper being ended, a clearance was made, the big Bible and the
psalm-books were brought out, and the family was seated. Moffat inquired
for the servants, "May none of your servants come in?" said he.

"Servants! what do you mean?"

"I mean the Hottentots, of whom I see so many on your farm."

"Hottentots!" roared the man, "are you come to preach to Hottentots? Go
to the mountains and preach to the baboons; or, if you like, I'll fetch
my dogs, and you may preach to them."

The missionary said no more but commenced the service. He had intended
to challenge the "neglect of so great salvation," but with ready wit
seizing upon the theme suggested by his rough entertainer, he read the
story of the Syrophenician woman, and took for his text the words,
"Truth, Lord, yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their
masters' table." He had not proceeded far in his discourse when the
farmer stopped him, saying, "Will Mynherr sit down and wait a little, he