SHOULD you like to canvass in a foreign field? Before you answer, count the cost. It is true that Brother Ashbaugh since he entered the Visayan field has scarcely had a half-dozen weeks when he has taken less than $100 worth of orders in one week. And one week his sales amounted to even $243. I am sure that his average will stand considerable over $100.
But there is another side to view. The difficulty is not chiefly in the number of orders lost, for some of his deliveries have been one hundred per cent, but rather in the time that it takes to make the delivery. In his last letter to me he made this remark, “It takes almost as much time to deliver as to take the orders.”
The means of transportation is often very slow. Sometimes it is a sailboat or a rowboat, sometimes walking; possibly you may be fortunate enough to secure a one-horse vehicle; or if your customers are near the railroad, you may take the train. To enlarge this difficulty, only the better classes can buy the books, and they are the few, hence the amount of territory to cover. Still worse than this is the fact that it is a rare thing to find a Filipino who has sufficient business principles to keep his money, even for one day, to pay for the book if he takes a notion to buy something else before the book comes. You may send him a notification card and call according to appointment, only to hear him say, “I had the money yesterday, but I have spent it, and I cannot pay for the book.” All that you can do is to set another time as near to the next pay-day as possible and overtake him with the money in his pocket. If you have so succeeded, you are fortunate.
VIEW OF THE NORTH END OF KETCHIKAN, ALASKA
There are still other things that must be encountered in these fields that are not found at home. Usually there is no great trouble in getting a place to stay, but for the most part you must either carry your bed with you or sleep on the floor. All the bed most of the people have is a thin grass mat, which they throw down at night, and then roll it up in the morning. It might not be appetizing to one used to the well-spread American table to be served with dry rice poorly cooked, with a little fish and possibly some bananas. You may be given a spoon, but usually the rest have no difficulty in eating with their fingers. Do not be surprised if you are passed the rice plate whence they have taken their share with their fingers. And if you should chance to have any dessert, it might be served as it was once when I was eating in a native home out in the province. The man who sat across the table from me had eaten his rice and the waiter brought a saucer of gelatin and a glass of water. The man took the big spoon from the saucer and filled it with the dessert. He bit at the spoon several times to get all the delicious morsel off. When he succeeded, he laid the spoon back on the saucer and took a sip of water. The one sitting next partook in the same manner. And so around the table.
It must be remembered that you are practically alone so far as society is concerned. The language may be learned, but there is such a vast difference in your ideas and theirs that it makes companionship rather imperfect.
With all of this, Brother Ashbaugh has not sent in one word of complaint. But rather has found joy in the difficulties. The following is a part of one letter that he wrote me: “Sunday I left Capiz for Silay by Parao. It cost me $1.50, but I could get no other; I was paying fifty cents a meal at the mess. It was a hot, dangerous trip. I got sunburned, the skin peeled off my nose, and my under lip blistered and swelled up. I am much better now. Monday afternoon I got a lorcha for Iloilo to get books for first delivery. We left at four o’clock Tuesday for Saravia. On account of contrary wind, it took us all the afternoon, all night, and until twelve o’clock Wednesday to reach Saravia. I delivered my books at this place, and left for Vicorias about eight o’clock at night, and stayed at the home of a Filipino teacher. I delivered all my books and left on foot for Silay, reaching there Thursday night. I stayed at the home of an American teacher, and delivered my books on Friday, having good success. All who ordered for March 30 have paid with the exception of a few who were on ranches.”
Now I hope that after reading this many will count it a privilege to leave the quietness of home and come out to the frontier and fight the battles of the Lord. I can assure you that we who have ventured out are glad that we did, and hope that we may be privileged to stay until the battle is fought and the victory won. And who can count the joy of those servants when Jesus shall say to them, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”
