An artless reminiscence accounts for World War I years and after spent in a mission-orphanage on the shores of the Bering Sea. The author left public school teaching to go South but found herself headed for Alaska and the Aleutian Islands where 40 to 70 children of mixed descent were among her charges. There were goats and chickens too, doctoring, deaths from tuberculosis, clothing, Christmases; there's the story ot an eiderdown quilt and a piano: a vacation lands her at a whaling station where a government teacher's child has an emergency appendectomy. Stories of the children and their neighbors, of the warmth and cheer among the cold comforts of gales and fog, of crises to be met by nick of time devices, all go to prove that ""missionary work is not all preaching and psalm singing"". Simple, unassuming, this would appeal to mission-study groups.