THE bell rang at Mr. Stuart's just as the boys were combing their hair. 

"I do say!" exclaimed Harvey, "I wish we didn't have prayers so early in the morning. My boots are not blacked and my cravat isn't on, and there's the bell!" 

They were late, of course, and they grumbled a little, and declared that for their part they thought the prayer-bell rang entirely too early. 

This made Uncle Henry laugh. 

"Early?" he said; 'why, the sun has been up for nearly three hours. I tell you what it is, boys, if you lived in Moqui town, you would have to get up earlier than this for prayers." 

"Where is Moqui town?" asked both boys at once. 

"Over in New Mexico, on the rocks. Don't you know about the Moqui towns? Why, there is a rock seven hundred feet high and three-quarters of a mile long, and a quarter of a mile wide. What do you think of such a stone as that?" 

"And do the Moqui Indians live up there?" 

"High and dry: three different villages, the people speaking three distinct languages, four, in fact, for they have one language besides, which they all know." 

The boys considered this state of things in silence for a few minutes; then Harvey said, "I guess they don't have family worship up there." 

"Indeed they do. Your bell tinkling this morning reminded me of it; their bell is just about as large, I should say; but they want to waken the whole village, you see. How do they manage it? Why, they tie the bell to one strong fellow's ankles, and send him scudding through the town; by this means all the people hear the bell, and they come pouring out of their houses, down the ladders, and seat themselves on the very edge of the rock, seven hundred feet above the valley. 

Suppose they fall? Then they are gone." 

"Do they read in the Bible and have prayers?" 

"Not they; no Bibles there. They will some day, when you boys grow up and make money, and send it or take it, as you ought to, to Christianize these people. But meantime they watch the sun rise; he is their god, you know—all the one they hear about. They go through certain motions, which they call 'thanking the sun for coming back to give them light and heat.' I'm not much of a missionary, but I used to like to look at them and think of the time when the Sun of righteousness would rise for them; I mean, when you folks out here at home get ready to tell them about him. If I were a missionary, I'd start for the Moqui towns, and see what I could do. The people have been watching the sun rise for so many years, they will be all ready to hear about the 'true Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.'"

The Pansy.