an hour before the bell rang, fearing lest the others would steal a march on her and go off to Mass without her. Then silence reigned and every one went quickly to work to dress and say morning prayers before the 'Bus or big sleigh would come up for us.

At 4.45 the bell rang, summoning all who were going to Mass to come quickly, for the horses could not bear to stand long in the cold. Out we all went, about twenty-five in all. Oh, the cold, the terrible cold! it took our breath away. But never mind; we are brave up here. One or two exclamations, and the scarfs are pulled over our faces, we huddle into the open 'Bus, and in a few moments all are comfortably seated. One nun and four babies from three to six years old are all that are left behind.

"Well, Bernard,"-that's the driver's name "how does the thermometer stand this morning?"

The answer is: "It don't stand at all; it is 40° below zero.' Well, well, this is dreadful-but off start the horses. The snapping, crackling noise of the snow, the still, cold, clear air, the beautiful, bright stars, all look like Christmas.

One ventures to say: "I hope our poor Lord had a milder night than this to be born in !"

That was a reminder we were going to welcome and adore that Divine Lord, so quickly all struck up the Adeste. We disturbed no one; only the silent stars and boundless prairies were our companions.

Soon we reached the church. In the vestibule each child was examined to see if face or hands were frozen. All were well, not even cold; but yet the fire was welcome. At five, High Mass began. I did not think the choir sang the Adeste as well as the children had done. It was so inspiring to hear the Venite Adoremus ring out over the frozen prairie, to the accompaniment of the sleigh bells and the sound of the horses' hoofs as we galloped along.

After Mass all muffled up well. It was getting colder-45° below zero; but it was Christmas, and all must be merry. The cold was but a little thing in comparison with all our Lord suffered for us.

Mass over, and yet not daylight! It is only seven o'clock. Oh, how pleasant to be home again; and, joy of all joys for the children, we are to have the Christmas tree before breakfast! The

little ones are waked up and dressed, Santa Claus rigs himself out in buffalo robes, the tapers are lit, the Adeste is sung, and the doors thrown open. What a vision of beauty! The great tree loaded down with presents-dolls, shoes, whistles, writing-desks, books, candies, oranges, just everything! Each present was received with a burst of gladness.

Now a beautiful French doll from papa-"Oh, it can turn its head every way!"

A set of dishes-"Please, please, may we have a party to-day with my new dishes?"

This is interrupted by a loud blast on the horn which one of the boys has just received.

All good things as well as bad come to an end. The tree is relieved of its burden. It looks very bare, and yet there are pretty ornaments on it still.

66

Oh, let it stay two or three days to remind us of how happy it made us!" is the petition of a little flaxen-haired Norwegian, who, though not a Catholic, begged to go to confession, for she could not enjoy Christmas until she had told "an awful sin" committed in Chicago! Poor Chicago! I wish hers was the greatest that ever arose from its swarming multitudes, to bring down from heaven its maledictions on this wicked world. She is ten years old.

After breakfast every one is again busy getting ready for last Mass, for those who went to second are just returning. No cooking will be done to-day; all was prepared yesterday, and heating just a little is all that will be required.

"Are all well muffled up?" is a question answered by each one presenting hands and face all covered up splendidly. One little one says she supposes people's eyes don't freeze!

Off we go again. It has moderated greatly-gone up at least ten degrees. We can tell it because the horses are not covered with frost, and the driver's beard and eyebrows are not hung with icicles. Some have not looked up out of the buffalo robes, but a swing and a jerk tell them-" We are there!"

The church is so nice and warm.

Mass begins. The church is very full

After a short delay High

of people and the church

is large. The men look like buffaloes and bears with their big coats. The ladies—oh, there are no ladies, but moving bundles of furs and shawls. At one o'clock we start back; the wind has

risen. Well, all set off to face one of the very coldest days in our very cold climate.

Home again! One must be in Dakota-North Dakota-to know the pleasure of the heat.

"Oh see, Annie is frozen! Sister Joseph is frozen! Hilda is frozen! Quick! quick! snow and rub them!"

Coal oil is splendid for taking out the dreadful white spot. In a few moments the rubbing with snow has caused the frozen parts to resume their proper color. No harm is done. The ones that were frozen did not know it until told!

Freezing is a small matter, if the proper means for drawing out the frost are immediately taken. But if neglected, much suffering will ensue, and the effects of the freezing will last for a lifetime in a peculiar tenderness and aptness of the parts once frozen to easily freeze again.

The hardships of Christmas are over. We shall have Benediction at the Convent, and there will be no going out again till the The day is spent in giving parties with the new dishes,

morrow.

taking the dolls to visit each other.

a ball, and a work-box are in ruins. merry Christmas indeed!

Before night two whistles,
But it has been a merry,

IN THE LAND OF FIRE AND DESOLATION. (From Letters of a Missionary in Patagonia, published in the Unità Cattolica, 1886.)

[Leo XIII. erected the southernmost extremity of the American continent into a Vice-Prefecture Apostolic, and confided it to the care of a worthy and zealous member of the Salesian Congregation, founded by the saintly blind priest, Dom Bosco.]

HE island of Terra del Fuego is a perfect labyrinth of channels, creeks, bays, gulfs, and peninsulas, and forms with surrounding islets a wonderful archipelago. The main island is covered with snow-capped mountains, composed of clayslate, greenstone, and granite. The southern and western coasts are sterile and gloomy, well deserving the appellation-Land of Desolation— given to it by Captain Cook. Yet the mountains rising behind mountains, forming intervening valleys and covered by thick, dusky masses of forest-trees, lend to the general aspect a certain

mysterious grandeur. Magellan called it by its present nameLand of Fire-from the numerous fires kindled by the natives along the coasts. Later travellers thought the clouds above it came from smoking craters of volcanoes; but now it is known that heavy fogs hang over the land, moved by gusts of polar wind and reflecting the sun's rays, and disappearing as that luminary ascends the heavens. One volcano only has been discovered.

Nearly all of Terra del Fuego is in the possession of Chili, leaving a small portion of the eastern side to the Argentine Republic, with Staten Land at the extreme southern point of the archipelago. Quite recently the Argentine government has chosen Staten Land as a place of "perpetual banishment." Hence a Governor has been stationed there, and a light-house has been erected. Except this island, a station on the shore of Hopparo for British whalers, and a Protestant mission called Usciumaia, the whole of Terra del Fuego is inhabited by savages descended from the tribes in the Western Andes and Patagonia. The principal tribes are the Acaluffi (3,000), sparsely scattered over the territory lying between Cape Pilar and Stewart Island; the Oua (2,000), and the Iagan (3,000), the last dwelling on the islands of Beagle's Channel.

These savages are very ugly. They are low in stature, the trunk very bulky in proportion to the slender limbs. Their color is of a dark mahogany, their faces flat, foreheads low, and their eyes almond-shaped. They live in huts formed of boughs unskilfully interlaced, and subsist on the fish, to catch which they skim over the water in light canoes, and on the seafowl and other birds which are plentiful. Even the little humming-bird may be occasionally seen sipping sweets from open flowers after several days of rain, sleet, and snow. They are good hunters with a sling, and with bows and arrows pointed with bone or flint. They wear mantles made of the skins of seal and guanaco. The climate is cold and damp. Winter reigns nearly all the year and vegetation is scanty; yet strange to say the Fuchsia and Veronica are found in full bloom on strong woody stems at the bases of mountains, two-thirds of which are covered with snow. There is also a bright yellow fungus, about the size of a common apple, which adheres to the bark of the beech-tree. When young it is elastic and full of moisture, but after fructification becomes mucilaginous and sweet to the taste. This, with a seaweed, is a staple article of their food.

They keep up large fires near the coasts in order to cook their fish, and warm their limbs benumbed with cold.

Mammals are few. Besides seals and whales, they have the bat, three kinds of mice, the fox, the sea-otter, guanaco and deer.

These sons of the forest are not naturally fierce, and we have good reason to believe that they will accept the truths and maxims of Christianity with much docility. As to their own religion, they worship a good spirit and an evil one, and they invoke them to obtain food or to conquer their enemies in exactly similar terms and ways. They believe that sickness results from a wicked spirit entering the body, and hence they have professed sorcerers that pretend to drive them out.

Some of the elders among the coast Indians may have heard the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary before our arrival among them. In 1846 unfavorable winds forced the French ship L'Arche d'Alliance to seek shelter on that desolate coast. Captain Marceau-so famous for his Christian life and devotion-cast anchor in Port Gallant Bay, and awaited a fair wind to enable him to continue his voyage. Observing a great number of natives flocking to the coast from the interior to see and admire his noble ship, Captain Marceau, by kind and courteous gestures, invited them to come on board. Immediately they ran and leaped into their canoes, and ere long the deck of the excellent ship was covered with natives, to whom the sailors distributed food and clothes.

The chaplain was summoned, and he was delighted to show them a crucifix and try to make them comprehend that Jesus had died to save them. Then he bade the sailors sing over and over again those two blessed names of Jesus and Mary, and induced the natives to sing them with the crew. The Captain ordered the carpenter and painter to ornament one of the canoes with a wooden cross, and to paint the words Jesus and Mary on the prow in golden letters. A cross eighty feet in height was made, on which Captain Marceau hung several medals, and it was borne processionally to an eminence on land prepared to receive it. Hymns were sung, the chaplain blessed the cross, and then the crew and their new acquaintances knelt together and sang Jesus and Mary with one heart and voice. Since that time no other Catholic that we know of has visited them.

During the last six years our missionaries have built two