I think I may say that during the last few months tract distributing has become one of the features of the gospel work in Yeung Kong and its neighborhood. Some tens of thousands of simple gospel tracts for adults and children having been printed. We have been endeavoring to scatter the good seed, through their means, in many directions. The colporteurs and preachers have carried them into the country places, and some of the boys from the school have lent willing hands to distribute them in and around the city.
We have also had a variety of wall texts written in large Chinese characters on red, yellow and green papers, and these are gladly received. Incidentally, I may explain that by having them written, a very worthy lad is enabled to continue his attendance at the school, and the written character is more appreciated by the Chinese, than in foreign looking, printed text. Some of these have been put up at the gate of the city, and one, if not more, has been displayed on the gatepost of a temple, with the permission of the person in charge.
It would be hard for those in America to picture to themselves the beaming faces with which these tracts are received, or the joy and eagerness of the children, and also of the women, and even of the men, when a picture card is produced. Walking over the hills a few days ago, we had the pleasure of distributing some of these colored cards to several children. How gladly they were received, as were the tracts by their elders. I remember one tall, intelligent looking man, leading a very small cow, who continued reading his tract as long as he was in sight.
Descending to the road, which led us home, we were attracted by shouts from the hilltop, and saw a number of ragged urchins hastening after us. If it had been in the homeland, one might have thought they were crying, “Stop, sir, stop!” but I am more inclined to think, being in China, it was “Kung chai, kung chai!” (“a picture card, a picture card!”) It was a great disappointment to the laddies and also to ourselves, to find the cards had come to an end; and very evident tears appeared in the eyes of the last comer, a small boy of perhaps eight years, who came panting up, some distance behind the older ones.
Another day we found our way on to one of the main roads, leading between Yeung Kong and Naa Shue. You would hardly believe the numbers of people we met: women carrying heavy baskets of earth; men with bags over their shoulders; scholars in their long, blue robes; mothers with babies on their backs, and other little ones trotting by their side. Only one or two of the men refused the tracts; as a rule they were received with a broad smile, and occasionally with a bow or word of thanks, while the weary looking women became quite animated over the gift of a card.
Leaving the high road, we came into a lane, bordered, as these lanes often are, with wild pineapple. Even here we met some very bright looking lads, who were rejoiced to get, not only tracts, but a small Gospel of John. This pretty, winding lane led us to a beautiful pond, peopled with ducks and geese. Crossing a small bridge at the end of the pond, we found ourselves in a densely populated village. Children swarmed around us on every side, men came running and holding out eager hands for tracts. Near the center of the village we encountered a very patriarchal looking old man, with a long white beard, rather an uncommon feature in this country. A wall text on red paper seemed a suitable present for him, and was greatly admired by all onlookers. A place to paste it up, on the outside wall of a house, was soon pointed out. One man ran to fetch a bowl of paste and a piece of cocoanut fiber in lieu of a brush, and the work was soon done. Long may that verse of Scripture remain in its conspicuous position in that large heathen village.
To give a third instance, we might speak of a walk several ladies took one afternoon, accompanied by their children and a Chinese lad, Cheang Faat, who is working his way through the school. He soon became possessor of a package of tracts, and gave them to one and another in a pleasant and tactful manner. All were received with smiles and thanks.
Arriving, at last, at a picturesque teahouse, the party sat down to rest, and one lady began to sketch the house. I might remark here that she not only drew a picture, but drew a crowd also. But the boy was equal to the occasion, and soon disposed of all the remaining tracts, and, as the men and boys gathered around, he took the opportunity to preach the gospel to them. A man, beating a gong, appeared at this moment, warning people to make way for a second man carrying a tray of idols, and with a third man holding an umbrella over them. This our young preacher took for his text, and spoke long, and I am sure, faithfully, to the crowd. How quietly and earnestly they all listened—over fifty men and boys, some old, some young, some in rags, others well dressed. It was a sight never to be forgotten—the boy preacher, with bare head and feet, telling out of a full heart the story of a true God, and a loving Saviour.