Morris, Mary Lois Walker - Journal

A Sketch of My Life

By Mary Lois Walker

 

Agreeable to the request of my children, I have endeavored to write this simple sketch of my life, and present the same, hoping it will prove acceptable, and of some profit to them in climbing the rugged path of life.

My Father's Family

My paternal grandfather, James Walker, was born May 11, 1774, and I suppose in the town of Leek, Staffordshire, England.  I saw him for the first time when I was fourteen years old, in which year my mother and I returned to my native town of Leek to reside.  He was small of stature and although quite aged, and unable to perform any manual labor and walked with a cane, he was still very erect.  He had keen dark eyes, refined features and white hair.  I remember mother having said that he fought in the battle of Waterloo.  He was a cabinet maker by trade.

I cannot say that I ever saw my Grandmother Walker but I am under the impression that she was a large woman.  My father, who was not a man given to boasting, told my sister, Ann Agatha, that his mother was the finest looking woman in Leek.  Her maiden name was Gibson; I think Elizabeth.

My Uncle Charles Walker was born May 4, 1797.  He was advanced in years when I saw him, but I very well remember his appearance.  He, like my Grandfather, was small of stature, had large, expressive, dark eyes, pleasant deportment, and I think was of a kind and affectionate nature, and very devout.

His first marriage was childless.  Our Aunt Maria died when she and Uncle Charles were quite in years.  In due time he married again and sent us a photograph of our new Aunt, who was neatly and handsomely dressed and appeared to be a very nice person.  He made this remark in writing to my sister of his second marriage, "I trust it is of the Lord."  He presented each of us with a New Testament just before we embarked for America.  I know my mother said he was employed as bookkeeper or manager, in a certain silk warehouse for thirty years.  I remember his calling upon us while we lived in Manchester and how embarrassed my sister Agatha was when he took her upon his lap; she being quite a large girl at the time; almost a young woman in fact.  Peace to his ashes.

My father's other brother, Uncle Peter Walker, was born 24 May 1813 and died July 10, 1861.  I remember seeing him but once, the year we stayed in Leek, immediately before our departure for America.  He seemed to be a larger man than my Uncle Charles.  He invited Mother and me over to tea one Sunday afternoon.  I do not remember much about his wife as she only came into the room once during the afternoon.  I suppose she was engaged about the tea, but my cousin James I remember very well, as he and I sat upon the sofa while our parents talked.  I think he must have been about my own age, in his early teens.  He afterwards emigrated to America and settled in Ohio.  He sent his photograph to my brother Charles and for some years carried on a correspondence with him, but saw nothing in the Gospel.  He was a fine looking man in appearance.

Aunt Eliza Harley, or Arley, the oldest of Father's sisters, was small of stature and had large dark eyes.  He was a very good housekeeper.  Her husband, Uncle Edward, was a very quiet, unassuming man.  He was a good mechanic.  They were in comfortable circumstances but had no children, at least when I knew them.

Aunt Kate Hazelwood, father's youngest sister, was a woman of good height and gentle in her manners.  Her husband, Joseph Hazelwood, was a religious zealot.

Aunt Lucy, another of father's three sisters, was a cripple and died in childhood.

 

                My Mother's Family

My mother's grandparents, Josiah and Hannah Booth, reared my mother.  They, having buried a child about the same age as she, asked her parents to let her stay with them.  I remember mother saying her grandfather Booth was the Town Crier.  This city office was more common during the early part of the last century than it is now, but I remember as late as the 60s hearing the Town Crier in Salt Lake City going along the streets at night ringing a large bell as he shouted the heart-rending words "Lost Child, Lost Child!"  When my great grandfather would go along the streets ringing his huge bell and delivering his important message, the children in the street would say: "Here come 'Sia Booth with his ding dong."

A Mr. Wombwell, who was the greatest showman in England at the time, set up his tents in my great grandfather's grounds.  Mr. Wombwell was in England what Mr. Barnum was in America and it was humorously said of him that he had the largest family in England, meaning his animals.  In speaking of her grandfather, mother said that when his children did not walk erect, he would remark "What ar't looking for"  Pins?  I look for swallows."

I remember hearing mother repeat a few words of a letter written by her grandfather to his son.  They were: "My lad I should be glad if thou couldst come over and bring these steps with thee that thou brought from Dover."  Steps were something used in the manufacture of silk.  Mother said that he used often to say, "I wouldn't give a fig for a man that couldn't find some fault where there is none."

My great-grandmother, Hannah Booth, was a Welsh woman.  In that day they used the "thee" and "thou" as the Quakers do.

My grandfather Godwin was born in Warwickshire, England.  He married Hannah Booth, daughter of Josiah and Hannah Booth.  To them were born a daughter, Mary, and two sons, Samuel and Joseph.

My Grandfather and Grandmother Godwin were highly moral and very devotional and desired to bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

I remember mother saying she had seen her father coaxing her youngest brother to walk across the floor by offering him some cakes.

When my grandfather Godwin was upon his death bed and too weak to speak he clasped my grandmothers hand and pressed the finger bearing her wedding ring.  By this she understood that he wished her never to marry again. She kept her marriage vow sacred in her widowhood as she had done in her married life and so reared her three children in the purity of devotional widowhood.

My father, William Gibson Walker, was the eldest child of James Walker and Elizabeth Walker.  I remember hearing little or nothing of his early life, except that being the eldest of the children, he was quite useful in helping his mother about the house.

When he was about 27 years old he married my mother, Mary Godwin, and to them were born four children, as follows:  Ann Agatha, Dorcas, Charles Lowell, and Mary Lois.

My father was about medium height and constitutionally healthy.  He had black hair, dark eyes, large high forehead, well marked arched eyebrows, a somewhat nondescript nose, rather thick lips, white regular, sound teeth and very shapely hands and feet.  His chin was as nearly like that of Henry Ward Beecher as one can be like another.

Father was naturally religious and intellectual and was fond of books.  These he took great care of and often repaired them very neatly himself.  I remember when only six years old hearing him repeat passages from works of elocution.  He was quite original and had a strong vein of wit and humor in his character.  He had a very effective way of humiliating the proud and ostentatious but loved to help those in distress.

Father was a natural teacher and earned a living in this way and also by bookkeeping, altho he had learned the ribbon weaving trade when a young man.  While working at this trade, in lifting something he sustained an internal injury which necessitated his following such occupations as would not tax his physical strength so much.  He was also quite handy with carpenters tools.

He was a local preacher when a young man, and a member of the Wesleyan Methodist Church.  I am told by my friend, Mrs. John Druce of Salt lake City, that father afterwards joined the Congregational Church and that it was at the Sunday School of this Church that they met and father asked her if she had heard of the "Golden Bible", for such was the Book of Mormon called out in the world in the early forties.  She also told me that he remained and helped them in the Sunday School after he had joined the Mormon Church.  Perhaps I may be pardoned for saying that those who had father's help in the Sunday School were fortunate, for he was a natural teacher, a good theologian, and had some knowledge of Latin and Greek.

He was engaged to teach an Infant School for a religious sect called the "Independents".

The following incidents will serve to show my father's method of correcting and teaching his children.  These lessons I think I shall never forget:

When I was about six years old I had told a falsehood, altho I have no idea now what it was about.  Father took me upstairs to mother's bedroom and there, in a very serious and impressive way, he simply asked me this question: "Is it right or wrong to tell a lie?"  Being alone with my father, face to face with him, and I in error, I was very much abashed, and it seemed a long time before I could gain sufficient courage to answer him.  He asked me the question repeatedly and at length I told him "it was wrong."  That was all there was about it; there was no scolding or whipping.  I had answered his question, had decided myself what was right, and was at liberty to go down stairs, taking with me my life long lesson.

Upon one occasion, during the summer of 1851, while conversing with my father upon a very important subject, he made this remark:  "The Lord has said, 'Those who honor Me I will honor.'"  This I have proven to be verily true in my life's experience, and will add that when God honors us we need fear no man or set of men.

Father wrote very rapidly, and perhaps somewhat illegibly for mother has told me that his father once said when father was leaving Leek: "If our Will writes to us, he must come and read it himself!"  He made his own pens from quills.  More will be found of my father's life at the end of this sketch.

 

My Mother Mary Godwin

As before stated, my mother was reared by her grandparents, Josiah and Hannah Booth.

She read the newspaper for her grandparents when only 5 years old.  She used to tell us that she was allowed to wash the coffee pot when she was a very little child, because her hand was small and was taught to sweep the stairs too when she was quite young in order to learn how to sweep.

During the time that my mother stayed with her grandparents, there were two French noblemen lodging with them.  These gentlemen were prisoners of war, and from them she learned to speak, read and write the French language while yet in her childhood.  So correctly did she speak this language that two Frenchmen with whom she once had a conversation could hardly be convinced that she was not a French woman.

One of these noblemen, whose name was de Villiers had his own fun teasing the family about their religion, saying, "you pray God to bless you and then you throw stones at the others."

At a proper age mother learned the milliner's business and in this, as in everything else that she did, it was her pride or ambition not to be excelled by anyone.  By working at her trade she was enabled to assist her widowed mother in giving her two brothers their education and trade, Samuel becoming a bookkeeper and Joseph being apprenticed to a butcher.  It was customary then, as now, for everybody to learn some trade, generally serving an apprenticeship of 7 years.  When our mother, Miss Mary Godwin, was about 27 years old, she married our father, William Gibson Walker.

She was rather below medium height, and although inclined to be corpulent was very shapely, had a full chest, dropping shoulders, small hands and feet, arms white and dimpled like a baby's.  Her complexion was fair and ruddy, hair brown, always parted in the center and combed smoothly down to the ears; high broad forehead; pensive grey eyes that seemed to look far into the future.  Her nose was rather large and dignified her mouth small with rather thin lips.

Her manner was quiet, modest and unassuming, grave but affable and generous.  She was highly intellectual, very devotional, with unbounded trust in her Maker and of unswerving integrity.  Father said of her "If she had been a man she would have been a master mechanic."  She had a constant thirst for knowledge, and while many people would have been engaged in gossip and light talk she was delving into some philosophical subject or valuable historical work.  She could converse on almost any topic and had the happy faculty of adapting herself to the most humble and unlearned.  She always sympathized deeply with the poor and afflicted.  Nothing could exceed her patience, fortitude and indomitable perseverance.  I have though sometimes, in looking over mother's life, that she was patient to a fault, and then, I have concluded that she needed all of that great quality which heaven had endowed her with.

The relation of a little incident on landing in America will serve to show what a fund of information she possessed.  It was a warm day in May and we had just landed at the St. Louis Levee, on the Missouri River, dressed suitable for the more temperate climate of England, but rather too warmly clad for a May day in St. Louis. The heat seemed almost oppressive to us as we walked up from the Levee.  A glib-tongued Irish drayman saw us approaching and as we drew near he accosted mother and said, "Sure, Mum, and you'r not long from the Auld Country!"  She, with injured dignity at the man's audacity, turned and remarked to me, a girl at her side, as we passed along, "If they (meaning the Americans) are not English, they may take their father's blanket," meaning that if they were not of European descent they must be Indians.  I have thought many times during the 52 years that have passed since that, how much ground these few words covered.

A few days later an intelligent Irishman, with whom she had been conversing in a neighbor's house, made this remark of her after she had left: "If most people knew what that lady has forgotten they would be fortunate."

The following July, as we heard the constant booming of cannon in celebration of the national holiday she said that all that firing was against the English.

Here are some of mother's familiar quotations and sayings as she would repeat them to us in her daily walk and conversation.  When passing through severe trial she would say, and we knew the words came from the bottom of her big heart:

"And though He should slay me, yet will I trust in Him."  Job 13-15

"Let thy neighbor live quietly by thee."

"Suffer wrong rather than do wrong."

"Do not lie by your actions."

"Let your conversation be such as becometh angels."

"Thou shalt not kill."

"Thou shalt not steal."

"Thou shalt not commit adultery."

"Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour."

"Thou shalt not covet."

"Whatever thy findeth to do, do it with all thy might."

"Blessed is he who, when his Lord cometh, is found watching."

She taught us when working for others not to do so with eye-service, as men pleasers, but as unto God.

In regard to intoxicants, she would say:  "Touch not, taste not, handle not, the unclean thing."  In reference to attire, she would quote from St. Paul, "Not adorned with gold nor pearls, nor costly apparel, but with shame-facedness."  "Beauty unadorned is adorned the most."

Another of her favorite sayings was "Whatever you do, do it so that no one can mend it or better it." And "As you would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them in like circumstances."

We were taught to name the name of Deity with care and solemnity, to hold our persons as sacred as the Bible and our virtue dearer than life.  She taught us never to murmur and cited us the experience of the Children of Israel in their travels through the wilderness to show the result of murmuring, saying that when they murmured the Lord was displeased with them and they did not prosper.

She would say, and it was a safe guide: "Whatever you hear me say, you may say with safety."  When we went to bed at night we were taught to repeat this little verse:

"In the dark where children sleep in the room to hear their prayer,

'God will all good children keep, God is here and everywhere."

I never remember hearing mother laugh aloud, but she would laugh till she shook, then removing her glasses from her eyes she would wipe away the tears.  Mother wrote an English running hand, and often wrote letters for those who were unable to do so for themselves, for in those days many people had not enjoyed the educational advantages that she had.  A gentleman once remarked as he saw her write that hers was the pen of a ready writer.  Following is a specimen of her handwriting:

Here is the Phrenological chart of my mother, taken March 30, 1841, by William Bally.  She was then 43 years of age:

Phrenological Chart of Mary Godwin Walker

Method of Marking:

                Small          Moderate         Full             Rather Large        Large             Very Large

                   1                    2                   3                      4                      5                         6

The Cerebral Development of Mary Godwin Walker

                THE ANIMAL FEELINGS                                     THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS

1.       Amativeness                        Size 5                                 15  Individuality                            Size 4

2.       Philoprogenitiveness                  5                                 16  Configuration or Form                   5

3.       Inhabitiveness                             3                                 17  Size                                                   4

4.       Adhesiveness                              6                                 18  Weight and resistance                  3

5.       Combativeness                            2                                 19  Coloring                                           4

6.       Destructiveness                          3                                 20  Locality                                            6

7.       Secretiveness                              2                                 21  Calculation                                      3

8.       Acquisitiveness                          2                                 22  Order                                                4

9.       Constructiveness                        3                                 23  Eventuality                                      3

10.    Alimentiveness                            1                                 24  Time                                                 5

11.    Love of Life                                  2                                 25  Tune or Melody                             3

12.    Self Esteem                                   2                                 26  Language                                        3

13.    Love of Approbation                  6                                27  Comparison                                     4

14.    Catiousness                                 6                                 28  Casuality                                         6

 

THE MORAL SENTIMENTS

29  Benevolence                                   5                           33  Veneration                                          3

30  Firmness                                          4                           34  Ideality                                                5

31  Conscientiousness                        4                              35  Wit or Mirthfulness                       4

32  Marvelousness                              2                              36   Imitation                                         5

                                                                                                37  Hope                                                2

General size of the head:  Anterior lobe, large.  Coronal region above Cautiousness, rather large.  Ditto, above Causality, very large.  Region of Animan Propensitites, rather large in the middle lobe, very large posterior lobe.  Subject has more moral courage than animal courage.

Of the temperament:  The individual possesses:  1 part of the Lymphatic, 1 part of the Sanguine,

0 part of the Billious, 2 part of the Nervous.

 

My parents had four children, of whom I was the youngest.  My oldest sister, Ann Agatha, was born July 11, 1829.  She emigrated to America about 1846 and later became the wife of Apostle Parley P. Pratt.  She died in Ogden, June 25, 1908.

My sister Dorcas was born in 1831 and died when about 12 years of age in Pendelton, Lancashire, England.

My brother Charles Lowell Walker was born in 1832.  He emigrated to St. Louis about 1848, meeting the rest of the family when he arrived in May, 1850.  As he had been apprenticed to the blacksmith's trade, he did not proceed to Utah till a year or two later.  About 1861 he married Miss Abigale Middlemast and they resided in the 6^th Ward, Salt Lake City.  He died in January 1904.

 

MY OWN LIFE

I was born on the 14^th of May, 1835, in the town of Leek, Staffordshire, England.  The house was situated on Derby Street which seemed to be the main street of the town.  The house was two or three stories high, I rather think three.  My mother's bedroom where I was born was directly over her millinery shop.  It was well furnished in solid mahogany, the chairs upholstered in black horsehair.  An old fashioned four-post bedstead, with hangings above and below of white dimity, edged with a two-inch wide pale blue worsted braid.  I remember these hangings quite distinctly and how soft and pretty I used to think the cords of the cloth were.

On my 70^th birthday my sister Agatha wrote me a very pretty account o my birth and described the surroundings at that time, how my mother was dressed, how the room was furnished and her feelings as a child of 6 years, etc.  Although so young she had made a little soft cap for me all by hand.  It was the custom in those days in England for young babies to wear these tiny caps.

(In the confusion of the birthday party, this letter was mislaid.  Should it be found it should be inserted here.)

My mother at the time of my birth, was doing a large millinery business, keeping apprentices and journey-women, as those who had learned their trade were called.  This necessitated keeping help in the house as well as a nurse for the children.  The first thing I remember (I think I was not quite 2 years old) was seeing my Grandmother Godwin as she lay dead.  Her head was to my right hand as I stood by the bed looking at her.

After Grandmother Godwin's death we moved from our native town of Leek to the city of Manchester, a large cotton manufacturing center.  It was while here that the second event that I distinctly remember occurred: the wearing of a little =Coronation pinafore= or apron made of a calico printed in honor of the coronation of Queen Victoria, which occurred a month after my second birthday, June 1837.  This calico was white with small sprays of tiny pink flowers and small black leaves, edged with red.  This pattern is as distinct in my mind as if I had worn it but yesterday.

(I find that the date, as I remember it, corresponds exactly with the date, 50 years later, when the Kings and Queens of the world met to celebrate the Jubilee of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria.  The year 1837 was also the year that the Gospel was taken to England.)

Another incident about this time made a lasting impression on my mind.  A young woman, named Amelia Babbington, had been left in charge of us children while father and mother went out for the evening, but unfaithful to the trust reposed in her, went out with a soldier who had called to see her, leaving us 4 little children alone, the eldest Agatha being only 8 years old and I but 2 years.  During the evening I needed to go out, so my sister Agatha, good little girl as she was, went with me, carrying a candle in her hand to light us, which she set down so near to me that as I stooped over, the oil silk cap which I wore on my head caught fire.  Noticing the flame above me I exclaimed "Eh, what a nice blaze!"  My sister, young as she was, took in the situation at a glance, and had the presence of mind to clap her hand over the "nice blaze" and so saved my life.  I carry the scar on my forehead to this day, but it is covered by my hair, combing it as I do.  This same girl proved afterwards to be dishonest, but mother on finding it out, concluded to simply dismiss her, rather than prosecute her.

Associated with this period is a pleasant picture of our home on a Sunday afternoon.  In the cozy kitchen, with white stone floor, mother sat in a chair in the corner, with her little ones gathered around her, while she lovingly told them Bible stories.  I can, in my  mind, see her as she told of Joseph, who was sold into Egypt; of David and Jonathan; and I remember now the impression that the passage in Samuel with reference to Saul the disobedient king, made upon my mind.  "Obedience is better than sacrifice, and to harken than the fat of rams."

As I recall these precious truths, taught me in my infancy and even on to mature years, I bless my God that I was sent to parents who taught me in His ways and I feel thankful that their parents, in turn and their parents' parents taught them as they taught me.

When I contemplate the state of the world today and read accounts of crimes committed by mere infants as well as by persons from youth to old age, more and more precious grow these truths taught me by precept and example, which if I continue to follow will lead me to life eternal.  I esteem them above all learning and wealth of the world.

When I was 4 years old I attended the Jackson Lane Infant School, taught by my father.  I remember going one morning with my sister Dorcas, who was a cripple (rendered so as a result of an attack of measles) and someone asked me as we were walking along "what was the matter with my sister?"  Although I was but 4 years old at the time I was well aware that better English was spoken in our home than in the homes of most working people, so fearing that the person asking the question might not know what 'spinal' meant, I added 'in her back' for her instruction.

Another morning I well remember, when someone asked me how old I was, answering "I am four years old."

How well I remember the little soft blue pilot cloth cloak which I wore at this school.  It was trimmed with black silk velvet of excellent quality, and fastened at the neck with a clasp made to represent a butterfly or insect, the two parts connected by a chain which regulated the size of the neck.

This Jackson Lane School room was long and lofty, with a gallery at one end where the seats were arranged one tier above another from the floor to the ceiling.  It was arranged in this way so that every child could see and hear the teacher as he gave them their lessons.  The opening exercises consisted of singing and prayer, then singing again.  Then followed motion songs, until we would be all of a glow with the heathful exertion.  We would march to the following song:

 

                We will march around the room

                                Forming square and pretty lines

                And nicely keeping time with our feet

                                And our teacher, if we're good, will say

                March away, march away, march away

                                We'll march to our places and make no wry face

                And make all our motions so quiet and slow

                                For if we don't do it, our teacher will know it

                And into the corner we surely shall go.

 

Then when the large audience of children were seated in the gallery before the master, he would give us lessons from the Bible, Natural History and simple arithmetic, using for the latter study an abacus, a small wooden frame with balls of white wood threaded on wire from one side of the frame to the other.  Then we learned the names of geometrical lines, geography, simple lessons in mineralogy and chemistry.  These were presented as object lessons.  Father would present the object before the class and supposing it to be wood, cotton, a feather, coal, hay, iron, silk or any other object, we were expected to tell him to which kingdom (mineral, animal or vegetable) it belonged.  I can see him now, as he stood before his pupils, very much interested in his work, the children listening attentively, for he expected them to be so still that he could hear a pin drop while he talked.  He gave us plenty of chance for exercise so that we could sit still at our lessons.

I think our first home in Manchester was in Rusham Street.  I fancy it was while here that a woman used to pass along the street with a basket on her head crying "Pale Mushrooms, pale mushrooms."  She had a very sweet voice and if I knew something of writing music I could give the tune exactly as she did.  My sister has told me that I used to imitate her in my baby way and cry "Pale mush-a-moons, pale mush-a-moons," she continued "and your voice was so sweet that it made mother weep."

When I was about 6 years old we were living at #17 Stanly Street, Manchester.  This was a very respectable street.  The houses were of brick with brown stone steps leading to the front doors, smooth stone sidewalks and well paved street.  Here I really enjoyed my play very much.  It would ho-scotch on the smooth pavement or Bobber and Kibbs on the stone steps.  The Bobber was a marble abut the size of a walnut, gaily colored when new, but the paint soon wore off.  This marble would readily bounce on the hard stone steps. The kibbs were small smooth white bone, about an inch long, five in number, taken from the foot of a pig.  The game consisted in bouncing the marble on the steps, then quickly picking up one of the little bones and be ready to catch the marble as it came down again.

We could play out of doors until 9 or 10 o'clock in the evening during the summer as the twilight was so long.  I remember having seen the sunset and hearing the town clock strike nine.  Then we would have daylight again at 3 in the morning.  It was while we lived in this house that the following incident occurred.

I was washing some doll's clothes one day in a large earthenware bowl, called a 'jowl' which the English people used as we use wash tubs.  It was about the size of a large milk pan at the bottom and of a tub at the top.  It was made of smooth red earthenware ribbed like a wash board inside, and glazed like a plate while the outside was smooth but not glazed.  I was so small that I could hardly reach the bowl as it stood on a chair or bench, so in my effort to do so I tipped it over on the stone floor and broke it.  I fully expected to be punished for this accident as it was quite a loss to my mother, but to my great surprise and relief, not a word was said.

I think this treatment has caused me to be lenient to others in case of accident, always discriminating between accident and carelessness.

I remember one bright Sabbath morning going to Sunday School through the snow.  I had on a new red dress, a white wool or sheep's skin muff and a tiny neck piece tied under the chin with a ribbon bow, a white straw or tuscan bonnet trimmed with red ribbon, the same shade as the dress.  This ribbon was put on in two twisted bands around the crown of the bonnet finished with a rosette about 3 inches across.  Mother had trimmed it for me and I remember how I enjoyed the contrast of the snow and my white muff with the red dress.  There is a great fascination for children in colors.

Next door to us lived a Mrs. Hollies, a very refined Irish lady who taught a private school in her own home which I attended.  In the morning we had lessons but in the afternoon, after a short reading exercise, we had sewing.  The little reader we used was a sort of pamphlet of 25 or 30 pages.  I think one of the first lessons was taken from the first chapter of John: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God, etc."  One afternoon I received a tin ticket for hemming a sheet across in one afternoon.  A certain number of these tickets would win a prize.  I also made a common shirt for my brother while attending this school.  It was made of unbleached cloth with cuffs and collar of coarse butcher's linen.  These cuffs and collar were trimmed with hand stitching.  A thread of the cloth was drawn out, the needle inserted and two threads taken up.  The needle was then inserted back of the two threads and brought out again two threads further on.  When finished it looked very like the machine stitching of today.

I remember very distinctly attending meetings in the chapel of the Primitive, or Wesleyan, Methodists, to which church my parents belonged.  We were taught to be very quiet and to look at the preacher.  One Sunday morning, I know I fell asleep and had a cozy little nap.  I remember being seated in the gallery to the right of the preacher, whose name was Mr. Gwither, a nice looking gentleman with dark hair, high forehead, fair skin, rosy cheeks and pleasant manners.  On the wall, immediately behind the preacher, was a round light space, about 3 feet in diameter, forming a sort of light background for the head and shoulders of the preacher, and suggestive to me of a halo.  I rather liked this, he being a holy man.

I remember when attending church one Sunday evening with father, a gentleman at the door asking me if I would not like to come and live with him, promising me all sorts of nice things as inducements, and truing to make a bargain with father for me, but I could not just see the point.

I attended a sectarian Sunday School; not the bright cheerful place that we enjoy meeting in today, and there receiving a small card with a passage of scripture upon it, and how ashamed I felt because I could not read, although I was but an infant.

When I was about 7 years old mother took me with her to our native town of Leek, to visit our relatives.  This is the only time that I remember mother leaving home, so it was a great event, and a very happy one to me as I was to accompany her.  The dress I wore was a fawn colored cashmere.  It seemed so soft and smooth, just as such material feels when it has been beautifully washed and pressed and had that peculiar odor of freshly washed wool.  I knew mother fitted me out quite nicely as she made or made over clothes very neatly.  Several incidents of this visit are still distinctly remembered by me.  One was spending the evening with my cousin Robert Godwin and his sister Eliza.  On the evening referred to, Uncle Joseph, Aunt Eliza and mother must have been out visiting, or spending the evening with relatives, for she had not seen them for many years.   Any way we three cousins, who were delighted with the novelty of each other's acquaintance, sat by the fire telling stories.  I think cousin Robert, as he was the eldest, told the stories, and one I remember was 'Blue Beard.'

There was occasion for an errand out of doors, and my cousin Eliza wanted me to go with her, but Robert, with affectionate gallantry, suggested that the night air might not be good for me.

While upon this visit we called to see Doctor and Mrs. Cooper and spent the afternoon and dined with them.  Mrs. Cooper was a very amiable and intelligent lady and a dear friend of my mother's.  I remember playing in the lovely dining room with their beautiful little boys and jumping off the sofa a time or two.  Mrs. Cooper was such a quiet refined, generous lady.  I remember seeing a little work bag hanging near the window.  It was made of white cloth and had a landscape design upon it, drawn by Mrs. Cooper, which was a proof that she was an educated person as in those days drawing was not taught, except in the higher class schools or by private teachers.  Dr. Richard Cooper, her husband, was our family physician, and he, thinking I might be mother's last child, would accept no fee, but presented me to her.

While accompanying mother, one Sunday afternoon to visit some friends, we met my nurse, Grace Lummus.  It seemed to me quite an event to meet the person who had attended me when I was a baby.

My sister, Agatha, furnished me with the following facts with reference to our receiving the Gospel.  She said, "Mother was away for a short time and Aunt Kate, who was a devout Methodist, was staying with us.  At that time I could not have been more than 11 or 12 years old.  Aunt Kate asked me if I had been converted or had experienced religion.  I told her I had not. She asked me if I did not know that if I did not become converted and tell the Lord that I was the chief of sinners and ask Him to take away my heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh, that I should go to the lake of fire and brimstone and be condemned forever.  Now this was an awful thing to tell a child and my own common sense revolted from such an idea.  I replied "Aunt Kate, I could not tell the Lord such a thing, for I am not the chief of sinners, I do not tell falsehoods or say wicked words and I have not a heart of stone because I love my parents and fear and love the Lord."  "Well," she said, "you will have to tell the Lord so or your fate will be as I have said."

"Now," Aunt Aggie continued, "This set me thinking very seriously and troubled me a good deal, so when mother came home I told her what Aunt Kate had said.  Mother replied 'Be a good child, and when you are older you will know what to do'.   But this did not satisfy me.  Shortly after we moved to Pendleton. Father as you know was a local preacher and took me with him one Sunday when he went to preach in a little church nearby.  A young man named William Hardman walked home with us, and when we were about to separate, he asked father if he had heard of those people called Mormons who have a golden Bible and preach the same doctrines that our Savior taught.  'They speak with new tongue', he said, 'and do as Christ charged His apostles to do before He ascended to Heaven.'  Father said he had not heard of them but would like to meet some of them.

The Latter-day Saints were holding their meetings at this time in a cellar or basement of a building in Oldham Road.  Father went to hear them and attended several meetings before he took me.  He used to go early and sit upon the stairs, where he would not be seen on account of his being an officer in the church to which he belonged.

I do not know how many times he heard them before he became convinced of the truth, but this I know, the very first time that he took me (they were holding meetings in Poland Street by this time) I drank in every word.  It was like pure water to the thirsty, food to the famished; it satisfied my whole being.  I thought "This is reasonable, tangible, it tells me what to do and how to do it. I knew the first principles they taught were true, and I have known it ever since.

I said to father, "Why do you not join the Mormons, you know that what they teach is true?"   His only reply was, "Humph, what does a child like you know about it?"  I said, "well, I know it is true."

At another time when we were going home from meeting, father said, "If I were to join them I should lose my position."  He was then teaching school in Jackson Lane, in a room adjoining n Independent chapel owned by the church that kept the school.  He received a small salary from the church funds and the children each paid a little every week, and besides this he taught a Sunday School, for which he was paid.  Some time after this the church made some improvements in their chapel, built a new organ, etc., which caused them some financial embarrassment and they were therefore obliged to close the school, thus depriving father of this employment.

When he came home and told us, my first words were "Now you can join the Mormons."  All he said was "Humph."  But he did join them and was ordained to the office of an elder at the water's edge (if I remember right) and was sent to labor in Hull, Yorkshire.

I must say in justice to father that he was a faithful laborer in the ministry and enjoyed the gifts of the Gospel to a great degree, especially the gift of healing.

Some time after we joined the church, two elders, one named Sands, were brought to our home.  They came for the purpose of administering to my sister Dorcas, who had been a cripple for about 11 years, as the result of an attack of measles.  She walked with her hand on her knee.  After the administration of the elders she began to improve, and would straighten herself against the door every day, until before her death she could stand almost erect.  Her death, which occurred about 1842, was a result of typhoid fever which was a great trial to my dear mother.

Although I did not know it at the time, being only about 7 years old, my sister has told me since that father had very grave fears for mother after Dorcas' death, although we never remember to have heard a murmur pass her lips.  Agatha says that father was always anxious to have me accompany mother everywhere she went in order to divert her mind a little from her great bereavement.

Dorcas, being a delicate, nervous child, extremely sensitive and a cripple, had wound herself around the tenderest cords of mother's heart.  She was of fair complexion, rather dark red hair and blue eyes.  She had very quick perceptive powers and nimble fingers.  She would make very pretty doll's bonnets of straw (hats were not worn in those days, except with riding habits or as sunshades, wide brimmed.)

When I was a child, there was a saying that to dream of a wedding was a sure sign of a death in the family.  I dreamed of a wedding and thought I must be in attendance but had to borrow a dress to wear.  My sister died soon after, and strange as it may seem, I had to wear a borrowed dress at the funeral, my own not being finished.  I remember also that it was a blue black instead of a jet black, as is usually the custom for mourning.  Our bonnets were what was called "draw bonnets" made of a sort of corded lawn, shirred.  I remember them distinctly, although it is more than 60 years ago.  In spite of the fact that we were only little children and the day warm, for it was in June, we were dressed all in black as was the custom then.

People used also to believe that to see a 'winding sheet' in the candle was another sign of death.  This winding sheet was caused by the wax or tallow of the candle melting, and running down the side of the candle in fine flutings or crinkled sort of ribbon.  We noticed a winding sheet in the candle one night, shortly before our sister's death, and it seemed to point in the direction in which she was sitting.

In those days they did not dress people for burial as we do now, but instead a finely pleated shroud, or winding sheet was placed over the body.  It was made of soft white woolen goods, called Domet, and was laid in pleats an inch wide from the neck to the waist and finished at the neck with a white ribbon.  Mother's own nimble fingers arranged the soft regular pleats of the shroud of her treasured one.  The remains were tenderly laid to rest in the Brunswick Chapel Cemetery in the village of Pendleton, near the city of Manchester, England.  Sweet rest to her dear remains.

When upon her deathbed, Dorcas asked my sister Agatha to be baptized for her.  All matters of this nature have been attended to.

Although her death was a sore trial we have lived to acknowledge the hand of the Lord in it. With her frail constitution, she could never have endured the trials and privations that we afterwards passed through in crossing the plains and in our pioneer life for many years after we reached the valley.

Shortly after my father joined the Church, a gentleman by the name of John Banks, residing in London and prominent elder in the branch there, wrote to my father as follows:  "Elder Walker, why teach children the alphabet, why not teach men and women words of Eternal Life?"  This remark led to my father being called on a mission a few months later.

When my mother was consulted, she said "If the Lord wants him, I will not withhold him."  As I recall these words of my  mother my heart is touched, as I am a witness of what it meant.  This simple reply showed the guiding principle of my dear mother's life:  self sacrifice, and unswerving devotion to God and to those around her.

 

FATHER'S MISSION

I was almost 9 years old at this time and father continued in the ministry until I was between 14 and 15 years old.  Du ring this period of about 6 years we passed through much privation and all struggled for the necessaries of life.

When I was 9 years old my father took me with him to visit some of the Saints in Cheshire, the Conference in which he was laboring as a traveling elder.  It was very pleasant for me to meet with these humble people, who loved and revered my father so much.

One day I went to a farm house to buy some buttermilk for the lady with whom we were staying.  The bucket was as large as an ordinary water bucket and far too heavy for a child to carry, and on my way back I upset the buttermilk.  "Oh, what shall I do?" I thought.  Remembering that I had a few coppers, I returned with the best grace I could and presented myself to Mrs. Bessie Williams, my kind hostess with the empty bucket and what money I had.  She only smiled at my anxiety to make good my misfortune and refused to take my little stock of half-pence.  I think the buttermilk only cost two cents.

While staying with this good family, we held Sacrament Meetings every Sunday afternoon.  Sometimes there would be only 6 or 7 persons present:  Bro. Geo. Williams and wife and their two children Tom and Emma, myself, and Bro. Thomas Naylor and his wife, Mary.  This Bro. Naylor was a brother of William Naylor of the Old Folks Committee of Salt Lake City.

The Spirit of God was with us and we had happy times in that humble cottage on a Sunday afternoon.  Sometimes, after the meeting I had to confess that I had quenched the spirit of testimony that burned within my breast, and Sister Williams would say, "The angels of the Lord will go up and say 'There's no testimony from Polly today.?"  Polly was their pet name for me.

While still upon this visit to Cheshire my father took me to stay with a family named Wright, who lived in a little town called Crew.  Mrs. Wright had already embraced the Gospel some time previously, but Mr. Wright had only just been baptized by father.  This new convert being a night watchman, father arranged one day for a meeting to be held at his home at 9 am.  There were present at this meeting besides Bro. And Sister Wright and ourselves, their only daughter Annie (now Mrs. William Naylor), a Sister Webster, who had recently been baptized and her young son.  I was seated in an infant chair by the side of my father, and soon after our meeting was opened I felt impressed that Sister Webster had something to say.  Being so young, I had not the courage to rise and express myself as moved upon.  Then the Spirit left me and rested upon my father, who arose and stated that he felt impressed that Sister Webster had a testimony to bear.  She arose and bore a strong testimony, which confirmed our impressions.  This incident has always been a pleasant recollection of my childhood and a satisfaction to me to have had this manifestation while still so young.  I believe I was so prompted for her encouragement.

I never met this Sister again until I had reached middle age and was pleased to find upon that occasion that she had a distinct recollection of this little incident.

In after life Mrs. William Naylor, before mentioned, told me that I had preached the Gospel to her when we were children together at her father's house, although I was not aware at the time of the effect of my words.

About 3 years after this I was again invited to visit at Bro. William's home and this time had the opportunity of attending school.  The head girls of the school were Ester Bisborn and Esther Cleghorn.  I liked my teacher, who was a very quiet, unassuming gentleman, and adapted to his profession.  At this time I had pleasure in the Gospel and enjoyed attending meetings.  Elder Lyman, Omer Littlefield was laboring in this, the Overlane, Cheshire district.  I well remember how powerfully he spoke, and how joyfully my heart responded to his inspired words as I sat and listened to him in those humble cottage meetings.  I remember very distinctly an expression Brother Littlefield made as he stood by the fireplace in that humble home of Bro. Williams in Overlane.  He said, "I have not come 8000 miles on a foolish errand," having come from America.

You will notice that the initial letters of this brother's name were L. O. and he once told us that the Prophet Joseph would greet him with "L.O.Littlefield!" thus making a pun of his initials.  He was in the prime of life at this time, and when I heard of his laboring in the Logan Temple in his advanced years I should like to have met him and talked over this period of his life, while he was laboring in England.  This Bro. Littlefield was the author of a book called 'The Martyrs' which dealt with the martyrs of our own church.

As I have said before, I loved to attend my meetings and would go alone and at night, perhaps 6 or 7 blocks, but I was not afraid and enjoyed the good Spirit as much as I do now, although only a child.

We had the privilege of listening to such men as Elder Serine, Orson Spencer, and Apostles Parley P. Pratt, Orson Pratt, John Taylor, and Orson Hyde.  I remember hearing Orson Pratt give an account of he Great Salt Lake Valley.

In speaking of John Taylor, father once told us that he said, "Always save a man if you can."  This may have been uttered at some council meeting or trial at which father was present.  I remember hearing Parley P. Pratt speak one Sunday evening, and of loving the words he said so much that I felt as if I could lay down my life for him.  I followed the people who crowded around to shake hands with him, but it seemed to me that I could not reach out my hand for the world.         

I remember, very distinctly, the 'Joint Stock Co.' trouble and Thomas Ward and Reuben Headlock, who were implicated in the affair.  A few days ago I was told by a very old member of the Manchester Conference that the Apostles referred to as visiting our meetings were sent over from America to clear up this 'Joint Stock Co.' business.

When these Apostles returned my Sister Agatha emigrated to America.  Not long after this, in the early forties my brother Charles also had an opportunity to emigrate, in company with our dear friends the Williams family.  He had just begun to work at the blacksmith's trade, and Bro. Williams being a blacksmith we thought this a good opening for him. They, with many other Saints, settled in St. Louis, until by working they could earn means to purchase the necessary outfit to go on to the Valley.  My brother was very happy with this family and went with Mr. Williams to Kentucky for a time, to work at blacksmithing.

Mother and I were alone now, as father was still out preaching the Gospel.  We suffered many privations.  I think one of the most trying times of this period was once, when we were without food all day.  What made the pangs of hunger more intense was the odor of freshly baked bread arising from a bakery in the basement of the house adjoining where we lived.  I have often thought how intensely my dear mother must have suffered under these circumstances with her sensitive nature and undying mother love.  But no murmur escaped her lips.

In our family prayer she would ask our Heavenly Father gently to clear our way and would quote from Proverbs 39^th Chapter, 8^th verse, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, feed me with food," and therewith let me be contented, she would add.  Father did not receive sufficient money to pay our rent and this was another great trial to my mother and deeply humiliated her because of her extreme conscientiousness and rigid sense of honor.

My mother added to our income by her millinery work and it always looked as if it had not been touched by human hands.  I can see her seated with a tuscan bonnet on her lap and in her hands white satin of which she was making a dahlia.  The flower, when finished, consisted of 63 petals and was about the size of a sauce dish and looked o perfect that it did not seem to have been made by any human being.  I sat and watched her make it and although a child and it is over 60 years ago, I can distinctly remember how she did it.

I used to tease her for something to do and she would give me needles to thread, but after these were threaded I would again tease for something more to do.  Then mother would give me cloth and scissors and I would cut out and make doll's clothes.  When I had made enough of these I would make tiny bags.  In her pleasantry she would call me her "Little woman of 40 bags."  This title was prophetic, as my children can all testify, for it always seemed to me to be a good way of keeping bedding and clothes neat and clean when not in use.

When about 9 years old I attended a school taught by two Scotch ladies, Miss La and her sister Miss Charlotte Law.  The room where the classes were held was long, lofty and large, with a gallery at one end for the children to sit in while they were being instructed.  Upon the walls were hung pictures of animals pasted upon smooth white board.  After marching around the room we would be seated in the gallery doing needlework or lessons, as the case might be.  Here I learned something of knitting.  We had work pockets about 9 inches deep, with 2 compartments to hold our work, thimble, thread, etc.  My pocket was made of checked gingham, in red and green, with a tape sewed to it so that it could be tied around the waist, like a little apron.

I remember these ladies called upon mother and how lovely I thought they were and how they seemed to enjoy conversing with her.  For a time I sat quietly on a little stool by the side of one of these ladies and with a pin that I happened to have in my hand, traced the pretty floral pattern on her dress, and she, noticing what I was doing, stooped down and kissed me.  They were very polite and had a way of acquiescing with what mother said by bowing their heads and saying "Quite so", and "Just so" in a very precise and courteous manner.  After a while my brother Charles and I sat under the large round table, no doubt hidden from view by the ample corners of the table cover, and childlike, we sat and enjoyed silently mincing their courteous "Quite so's" and "Just so's" accompanied with a nod of the head.

I suppose I must have been very fond of children, judging from a remark of my father's.  He said "You would nurse children as old as yourself."

The neighbors would often ask mother to let me come over to tend the baby.  This I was very willing to do, as I had no companion at home of my own age to play with.  A lady living next door got me to come and help her with the baby, but when she found that I was handy with housework she put me to that and tended the baby herself.  One Sunday afternoon I was left alone with the baby and was also told to keep the dinner cooking.  I can see myself now in that basement kitchen (which is not as cheerful as an upper room) with baby in my arms and the puddings boiling dry.  I know that the water on the puddings must be kept boiling and knew that, left as they were, they would burn before Mrs. Davis would be home from church, so I ventured to add cold water to them (there being several in one pot) and was greatly relieved to find they were all right when served at dinner.  That same evening I had to tend baby again and it cried with the colic as a result of the mother eating fresh fruit, but it never entered my mind to get out of the difficulty by going home, next door.

When about 12 years old, my father being still in the missionary field, I worked again for this same lady.  I had all the housework to do, besides the washing for the family.  On wash day I would have to work until bedtime to get it all done as I had no washer or wringer, or even a washboard to work with, so had to rub and wring every piece by hand and at night my hands would smart so that I could not sleep.  Being naturally diffident I did not always eat all I wanted, although I needed it, being a growing girl and working hard.

About a year later I began helping mother at millinery work and found it very hard to sit all day.  Mother was working for Messrs. John, James and George Cooper at a large warehouse.  The firm traded under the title of 'I. J. & G. Cooper.'  (The Scotch form of John, Ian, being used probably to prevent confusion of initials, a custom in England.)  We worked in a large well lighted, beautiful room filled with bright attractive girls.

I remember one of the salesmen passing through the room one day and asking rather scornfully:  "What do you girls call yourselves?"  "Ladies", they answered, to which he replied, "Mrs. Walker is the only lady here."  This remark caused the girls to look up the meaning of the word "Lady".  They were good singers, too.

These Messrs. Cooper were brothers of Dr. Richard Cooper before mentioned, and we held them in high esteem, for their own worth as well as for their relationship to our dear friends.

I remember dining at their home once when I was a little child.  Mrs. Cooper, their mother, sat me on a stool and put my plate on a higher stool in front of me and then cut my meat in small pieces for me, but noticing later that I ate my potatoes first, asked if I "did not like meat?"  I told her that I did, and that is why I reserved it till the last.  You, children, may judge whether or no, this was characteristic of your mother, although manifested in childhood.

My mother told me that in that family, no matter what guests were dining with them, the sons, who served the dinner, always served their mother first.  They had a beautiful home and servants.

Mr. John Cooper married a very beautiful woman, but his brother, the doctor, remarked as he walked behind him and his bride, either going to or coming from the church, "If that woman lives, our Jack's a dead man."  He could tell that she had consumption and that her husband would take the disease if she lived, but she did not live.  He married again, and his other wife, although not beautiful was a very excellent woman.  She said once that a voice told her that her little daughter Jane would die, but she answered the voice "Rather let me beg than Jane die."

At another time mother and I worked in a warehouse where 300 men were employed and we were the only women.  Our occupation was to clean bonnets, which we did with stale bread.  Some days I was there alone and one day one of the men put his hand on my waist.  I told him to keep his hands to himself.  He replied "I know you don't mean what you say."  Boiling over with indignation I answered, "When I speak once I mean what I say as much as if I had spoken a thousand times."  He concluded he had better leave me alone after that.  When I used to pass through these large rooms to the street these men would whistle or make remarks, but I passed on as if I had heard nothing and was never molested.

 

 METHODICAL HABITS:

When a child of 10 if allowed to stay home and do our work (I generally had to go out to work to help mother while father was away preaching) I would arrange my household duties something like this:  Monday, washing; Tuesday, ironing; Wednesday, after my work was done I had a little leisure or took a walk with my companion, a girl about my own age, or she would come to see me; Thursday, chamber work; Friday, cleaning parlor and sitting room; and Saturday, kitchen work, which would be done about noon.  Then I would go to my friend's perhaps, and help her, as she was the oldest of a large family.  Sometimes I would help her bathe the children or do her pantry work for her.

When father had been out preaching for about 4 years, my uncles Joseph and Samuel, thinking no doubt that mother, their only sister, must be having a struggle to make a living, wanted her to come to Leek and live so that they might be able to render her some assistance from time to time.  They had been left fatherless in their infancy and were reared by a tender, God-fearing mother.  They remembered the trials of their youthful days and very tender feelings existed between them and their sister.  They were in comfortable circumstances and lived on their own property, which is not very common in England.  I think they must have consulted together for mother's welfare.  So Uncle Joseph brought his own team and wagon to Manchester, some 30 miles, and took mother and me and all our household effects to Leek, their native town.

Our surroundings had greatly changed.  Mother's large business connection was gone and we were in straightened circumstances.  Having joined the Mormons we had few friends, for we did not associate with church or chapel folks.  I doubt if there was another person in the town of Leek who belonged to the same church as ourselves.  The Mormons were held in bad repute, so it was bad policy for us to let it be known that we belonged to them.  Our relatives knew of our religious connections but treated us well, although they cared nothing for Mormonism.  We lived part of the time with uncle Joseph and part with Uncle Samuel.   We also stayed with a first or second cousin, a Mrs. Ann Black Beardmoor.  Her husband was a very devout, nice man, a good husband and father and also a clever mechanic.

Our stay at Uncle Samuel's was not the pleasantest, as I remember, although he was a kind gentleman, but his wife, who was stepmother to his children, had an irritable disposition, as a result of dyspepsia.  I know that the little daughter, Lydia, hardly dared to call her soul her own.  Neither of us could please her.  If we tried to make the beds well, we were too long about it and if we tried to hurry we did not make them well enough to suit her.  Finally I concluded that I could not please her however much I tried.  She was a very neat, orderly person and no doubt a worthy woman.  They had a bright rosy cheeked boy about 16 years old who was learning the baker's trade.

After a time we rented 2 rooms in a fine old-fashioned house.  A farmer rented the house and he re-rented the parlor and the room about it to us.  The woodwork and floors were of English oak.

I sometimes went to class meeting with my Aunt (they were Methodists) and while they kneeled and prayed to Jesus, calling Him to come, and shouting "He is here," or "I have Him," "Glory to God," "Hallelujah," etc. I was asking my Heavenly Father to protect me from their influence, and He did.

John Darling Rose, a Scotchman, who belonged to the Mormon Church and who was spoken of as a "Walking Bible" because of his great knowledge of that book, came to Leek as an Elder from the Manchester Conference, and held a little meeting in an upper room, and I remember with what avidity I drank in every word he said.

While living in Leek, mother worked at her trade when she could obtain work, and one day a lady with two little girls brought some hats for her to clean and trim.  The agreement was that mother should also furnish the trimmings.  The hats were done according to promise, and called for but not paid for.  A few days later I went to Candleton, about 7 miles distant, to collect the money, but returned as I had gone without it, and in addition was footsore and weary after my 14 mile walk for nothing.

We felt very much alone while living here.  We were poor, and my mother was too proud and sensitive to go out much among our relations who were so differently situated.  However, whatever privations I have been called upon to suffer for the Gospel's sake I consider it an honor, although at that time I thought it hard, especially to be parted from my tender mother to go out and work for my daily bread.

But, at least a change in our fortunes was approaching, for when we had been in Leek about a year, mother received a notification from the Liverpool office that we were to sail for America.  By this time I was 14 years old and father was released from his missionary labors, to gather to Zion, and it did not seem long after he came home that we were ready to go to Liverpool.

When we arrived in Liverpool we stayed at a Mormon hotel, kept by a Mrs. Cooley.  While waiting in Liverpool we had the privilege of attending meeting in the comfortable well-lighted hall where the Saints assembled.  Here they used often to sing that favorite hymn "Oh Babylon, we bid you farewell," by Cyrus H. Wheelock, in which we joined with all our hearts for it thrilled the souls of the Saints.  I remember hearing a very powerful discourse delivered by Orson Pratt, calling the world to repentance.  I have often marveled at so powerful a voice from a man of small stature, but have found the answer to my query in Church history, for here we find that when the Prophet Joseph sent Orson Pratt out in the world to preach the Gospel, he told him to "Speak to the people long and loud."   The Prophet told George A. Smith to make short speeches and short prayers and the people would listen to him.  Apostle George A. Smith followed this commandment all his life and made this remark about himself, "When I get up the people know that George A. isn't going to speak long, so they listen to me."

On February 11, 1850, my father, mother and I boarded the ship "Josiah Bradley" with Captain Mansfield as master of the ship.  But we did not set sail until a week later, Feb. 18^th.  I find this date in "From Kirtland to Salt Lake City" by Fred Piercy, Artist.  This Mr. Piercy was an Englishman from London who drew the different scenes along the plains.  He once showed me a stick which could be used as a walking cane or converted into a seat.  This he used while making his sketches along the route from Kirtland to Salt Lake City.

When our ship was towed out and we had passed the Health Inspectors, said our last farewells and watched the waving handkerchiefs fade into the distance while we sang in chorus "Yes, my native land, I love thee," we began to be conscious of a queer sensation which all would like to have avoided, and were glad to descend to our berths below and lie down. While lying there ill of seasickness, we could hear our boxes sliding about with tins rattling as an accompaniment, and as we felt the ship heave and groan, we felt what helpless specks we were on the bosom of the Mighty Deep.

Our company was organized into 3 wards, English, Welsh, and Scottish, with Thomas Day presiding.  I think Abel Evans, a great ecclesiastical leader among the Welsh must have been in charge of the Welsh people on board this vessel, as he was with their company.  He is the father of the Evans family of Lehi, Utah.

With us also were Bro. James Needham, then but a stripling with his young bride, his venerable father and mother, his brother Arthur and wife, and his sisters Alice and Sophia.  Also James and Alex Pyper, fathers of the Salt Lake family of that name.

I associated a great deal with the Needhams, especially with Mrs. Arthur Needham, who was a very ladylike woman and made herself a pleasant companion for me.  Her husband was a pianist and older than his brother James.  They had no family.

I used to associate too with the Welsh people, especially with Miss Prothere, who was a gentle, modest lady.  She was 15 years older than I.  There was also a little girl on shipboard, who afterwards became the mother of Bishop Seddon of the 5^th Ward, Salt Lake City.

You will understand from what has been said of our circumstances, that we should not be able to travel as First Class passengers.  This necessitated laying in a supply of provisions before we left the shore, such as bacon, herrings, potatoes, butter, sugar, rice, oatmeal, etc., not forgetting sea biscuits or "hard-tack" as it is sometimes called.  The latter was rightly named for I remember how it made the muscles of my face ache, even up to my temples to masticate it.  This was our principle article of diet and had to be used on account of the duration of the journey, nearly 3 months, and it kept perfectly.

You will understand also that the supply of fresh water was necessarily limited, since enough had to be taken to last for so long a time; therefore it was measured out, perhaps as little as a pint of drinking water per day for each person.  This measured water had to be used for cooking, all of which we did for ourselves.  Sometimes we had trouble when cooking such things as rice or beans which absorb so much water, and would not have sufficient to finish cooking them properly.  The cooking was done on a sheet iron stove about the size of an ordinary kitchen table, in a small room about the size of an ordinary pantry.  Many would be cooking at the same time and people had to stand and watch their own things lest someone should come and put their things back to give their own the better place.

The ship furnished a cook to attend to the fire and superintend things and assist the passengers.  Father had learned to cook at home when a boy with his mother and considering the Galley, where the cooking was done, an unfit place for women, did our cooking himself.  The only way of going to and from the galley was by means of a large ship ladder.  You can imagine the difficulty of carrying the hot food from the galley which was on deck down the ladder to our berths in the steerage.  Fortunate indeed was the individual who possessed a good stock of patience, for you can see it would be needed under these trying circumstances.

Mother was often solicited to prescribe and administer medicines to the sick on board.  She was given free access to the Captain's medicine chest.  He was pleased to consult with her with regard to the health of the passengers, to whom he was very kind.  She even attended to one accouchment with great satisfaction to all parties concerned. This was the only maternity case during our passage, I think.

Mother and the Captain, who was a perfect gentleman, enjoyed conversing together upon many topics, but I think it afforded her the greatest pleasure to converse with the steward, who was a handsome young Portuguese and who spoke French fluently.  I have said before that mother used to speak that language in her childhood, hence the pleasure this would be to her.

The steward is quite an important official on shipboard, superintending the household matters, so to speak, of the ship.  I can see him now, as he looked then, dressed in black clothes, white linen shirt, and long white linen apron, walking steadily, however much the ship rocked, his hands filled with dainty or choice dishes for the Captain's table, for upon him also devolved the duty of waiting upon the Captain at his meals.

I spent most of y time on deck when the weather would permit.  Upon this deck was  long, low chicken coop, containing live fowls for use at the captain's table.  This coop was about as high as a bench and afforded us a good seat.  I often sat here doing needlework, reading, or conversing with someone.  I remember one day sitting here sewing and watching the chain lightning flashing across the sky, which would be the case for hours after a storm.  As I sat working and humming a tune the Captain happened to notice me and remarked to mother "Mary is like Hope on the tomb."  In the evening I so much enjoyed standing on the deck looking at the stars and down into the deep blue waters which had the appearance of being full of stars, but which was really the phosphorus in the water.  Oh, how I wished that I might study astronomy and thirsted for knowledge of all kinds.

I certainly enjoyed the voyage, and my health was very good after the first seasickness was over.  I was fond of needlework and had also a nice book that my cousin Joseph Godwin had given me before our departure.  I also learned to walk steadily on the ship when it was rocking.

An expression of one of the passengers I shall always remember for I have proven it to be true.  It was that "Industry brings contentment."

We were becalmed for some days in the Gulf of Mexico. The climate was very warm and yellow sea weed floated upon the surface of the blue water.  The sea was so still that we could see sharks beneath the water.

We reached New Orleans the latter part of April, after having been at sea about 8 weeks. The Custom House officials came on board and looked through our trunks. While I was watching them one of the officers remarked to me "If you were in California you would be married in 6 months."

The mosquitoes literally swarmed about us as we came near the mouth of the Mississippi.  This same officer upon seeing this jokingly remarked, "Oh, they're cousining you."

Father went on land for a few hours but mother and I remained on the ship till he came for us. Then we all landed.  Here I saw bananas for the first time, but when I tasted them, I did not care for them.

It seemed strange to see most of the women wearing loose wrappers and long narrow sun bonnets called Virginia Wagon Covers. They were out doing their marketing in the morning before the heat of the day.  In the afternoon they remained indoors but in the evening they would dress up and go out.  It seemed delightful to have plenty of fresh water, after having been scrimped for so long.

We boarded the steamboat "St. Louis" to go up the river to the city of St. Louis.  This comparatively short journey, as it would seem now, took us 3 days longer than one can travel from Liverpool to New York today.  The river was very muddy, but the water was soft and pleasant to use.

Now we could have fresh bread and plenty of good eggs. These eggs we beat up and used in our coffee instead of cream.  We appreciated these comforts after our long ocean voyage.

The scenery along the river was delightful, changing every moment.  There were trees in endless varieties and many Negro huts, at the doors of which the families stood watching the steamboats pass.  This was all very interesting and picturesque.  The boat stopped frequently to take on fresh fuel and to receive passengers and freight.  Then the Negro boat hands would haul on the great split oak logs about 5 feet long, singing as they worked.  Their singing was a sort of low chant, keeping time with their movements and very different to the singing of the sailors on board the ship.

It was the custom at that time for steamboats to run races up the river, and explosions were often the result.  Our boat ran a race with another boat.  The lady who nursed me when my son Nephi was born related her experience upon such an occasion when coming up the Mississippi River on board the steamboat Saluda.  The boat took fire and she had to cross a narrow plank to shore with two little children.  In her fear and excitement she held her babe as tightly to her breast that she found it was dead when she reached the river bank.

While we were on the boat St. Louis, a Mr. Sylvester Kitteridge used to come to our quarters and talk with us.  He was a tall, well built, handsome man, dignified and intelligent, but unassuming withal.  One day, during my absence, he told my mother that he loved her daughter.  Of course I was very young and traveling, also was a Mormon and the matter was not to be considered.  There was another pleasant looking young man who used to come and talk to us.  He was  a watchman on the boat and often brought us nice things from the cabin.  I have forgotten his name but there is a pleasing recollection of him in my mind.

Some fine looking colored girls were also on board, slaves no doubt, going to be sold or bought by someone.  Father  gave them money, as was the custom for white people to do, and asked them if white men ever married them. They told him that they did.  How little did we know of the customs of the white slave owners.

Altogether, we had quite an enjoyable trip up the river and landed in St. Louis, Missouri, on the 2^nd of May, 1850.

We were entertained for a time by our friends, Bro. And Sister Williams, with whom I had visited in Cheshire, England, when a child.  There was also a family named Dunn, who had been neighbors in Manchester.  They were faithful Latter-day Saints and are related to the Dunns and Stubbs of Provo, Utah.  Soon however we rented a house on the street between Car and Biddle Streets.  The Sunday following our arrival in St. Louis we attended a Latter-day Saints meeting in Music Hall and there Nathaniel H. Felt was preaching his farewell sermon prior to his departure for Utah. This was about the 4^th of May, 1850.

I suppose Henry Clay must have been running for President for I remember seeing a conveyance going up the street bearing his name in large letters.

On the 4^th of July following I was very ill and it seemed to me that every cannon that was fired went through my nervous system.  I felt relieved at the thought of evening approaching. As I have said, mother remarked that every cannon that was fired was aimed at the English, but I had adopted America as my country and cared not for past grievances.

St. Louis was a regular gathering place for the Saints who were intending to go to the :Valley.  Here they would stay and work to get means to purchase an outfit for their long journey across the plains.  Here we found many people who had been father's friends while he was traveling as an Elder in the different conferences in England.  Among others was Sister Tuckett and her family.  She was the mother of Bro. Henry Tuckett, Sen. And his brother Charles Tuckett, both of Salt Lake City.  I think they were from the London conference.

Everybody had to work, and those who could not obtain employment at their trade must turn to whatever presented itself.  Father obtained the agency for a kind of photography which had recently been invented and was quite successful in securing orders, for which he received a commission.  From Sister Tuckett's daughter Jane, an interesting little girl in her teens, I heard of a vacancy in a most excellent family, where a girl was wanted to take care of the children and attend to the chamber work.  I applied for and obtained the situation and went there on the 11^th of September, 1850.  Before going father called mother and me, and together we bowed on our knees and he asked the Lord to give me favor in the sight of the family where I was about to enter as help.  So under that influence I left the parental roof.

I remember how beautiful that month of September was when I, a girl of 15, went out into the world to earn my living and help my father to secure our outfit to cross the great plains.  I did not mind work and loved children, so there were pleasant times to follow, provided that I was with the right kind of people and received proper treatment at their hands.

The lady for whom I had engaged to work was a Mrs. Horace Howard Jenks, nee Mary Griswell Haven.  Her mother was an English lady, and her father one of the rich men of New York.  She was a young widow of about 30 years of age, medium height, had rather light brown hair, blue eyes and a fair complexion.  She was modest and unassuming in her manner and a perfect lady.  She lived upon her income and her household consisted besides herself of 3 small children, Ellen Agusta, Charles Haven, and Horace Howard, a babe in arms.  Also Miss Mary Jenks, sister of Mr. Jenks, deceased, a woman about 60 years of age.  Then there was Caroline Peckham, the cook and myself.  This Miss Peckham was a cousin of the Tuckett family and afterwards became Mrs. Tom Seddon, of the 6^th Ward, Salt Lake City.

Miss Mary Jenks was the real housekeeper, for although Mrs. Jenks stood at the head, she devoted her entire time to her children.  I heard her say that she liked to have Mormons work for her, and also that she liked English people.  Miss Jenks was rather cross and fidgety, but Mrs. Jenks I loved.  Miss Peckham was a good girl and very kind and we got along well together.

When I was sent upstairs to do the chamber work, I noticed small piles of silver change on the different mantels. This pleased me, and I understood by it that these ladies wanted to test the honesty of their new help.  As I had been reared in the most rigid honor it was gratifying to me to have the opportunity to prove myself to them.

My first duty each morning  was to kindle a fire in the nursery, prepare the morning bath for the children, help them to dress and take them to school.  On my return I would put the nursery, bedrooms and parlor in order, tend the lovely baby and then go and fetch the children home from school.  There was another little child that I used to take to school, beautiful little Molly Jenks, a cousin of the other children and daughter of Mr. George Washington Jenks, Miss Mary Jenks' brother.  Mollie's mother was a cute little dark eyed, rosy cheeked woman, as cherry as spring flowers. At Christmas time she made a little silk pin cushion for me. When she gave it to me she said, "Mary, I give this to you for being so kind to my little Mollie when she goes to school, helping her over the ditches."  Mrs. Jenks would often take me to market with her, and as I loved her I enjoyed it immensely.  She cared so little for finery that she would go out in the morning as plainly dressed as myself.

Mrs. Jenks was as anxious to have persons of rigid honor to take care of her children as my parents had been to have their children associate with people of that kind, so we mutually appreciated each others qualities.

Sometimes father came and spent the evening with us. That winter the weather was so severe that he said he had to saw our bread at home. The ground was covered with frost for several months.  One evening as he was leaving the door he slipped and broke his leg.  Fortunately he had brought a Bro. Rushton with him so he helped father home.

When Christmas time came I received presents from all the family.  Mrs. Jenks gave me a dress pattern and Miss Jenks a grey silk scarf with blue silk velvet stripes across the ends.  I received a pair of scissors from little Master Charles, an egg of perfumed soap from Sissy, as the little daughter was called, and a very good dressing comb from sweet baby Horace.  The soap I kept and used for my first baby.

After Christmas, Mrs. Jenks began to consider preparations for a contemplated visit to her relatives in the East.  In this event they wanted someone who could do more work than I was able to do in my place.  I rather think they wanted someone who could assist with the sewing.  When I first went there they gave me a dusting cloth to hem, I suppose in order to test my ability in that direction.  I did it and was not ashamed to let anyone examine the stitches.

When my parents learned that I should probably soon be leaving Mrs. Jenks my father wrote a letter to her and addressing her in a most respectful manner, he said, amongst other things: "Thine is a house of prudence, thine is a house of virtue," and also, "How often we leave true happiness to seek for imaginary bliss," meaning that she was happy there, but might not be so if she moved away.  He continued, using the Quaker style, "If it pleaseth thee that my child remaineth with thee, it is well, and if not, it is well."

They engaged another Mormon girl about 10 years older than I to take my place.  She came about a week before I left so that I could teach her the ways of the house.  Miss Jenks very pleasantly remarked during this week while we were both there "Many hands make labor light" to which I meekly replied <"Yes, ma'am."  When the time was up I went home.

One morning about a week later a rap came at the door and upon opening it we saw Mrs. Jenks, who had come to ask me if I would not go back, as the work of my successor had not been satisfactory.  I was pleased to do so as I loved and highly esteemed them.  She seemed pleased to notice when she called that I was wearing at my side the pair of scissors she had given me, for I was busy at making the dress they had given me.

Mrs. Jenks' husband had come from New England and they seemed proud of this fact.

So I returned to my duties and as the spring approached Mrs. Mason, a seamstress, was engaged to come and assist with the sewing.  Miss Peckham was to accompany Mrs. Jenks to take care of the baby and in a very kind manner I was asked if I should not like to remain with Miss Jenks and do the general housework while Mrs. Jenks was away.  I did not care to do so as I was not very fond of Miss Jenks although I had never had an unpleasantness with her, but as I did not like to refuse Mrs. Jenks anything I consented to stay.

The day of the departure, while Miss Jenks accompanied them to the station, I was requested to clean the dining room.  Upon her return I had almost finished my task and had not wasted a moment, for mother had always taught me to work, not with eye service, as men pleasers, but as unto God.  However, I suppose she thought I had been a long time over it, for she remarked rather impatiently, "Is this all you have done?"  I had made up my mind that if I did stay I would not take as much from her as I had in the past, so I answered firmly, "Yes, ma'am, but I have done it well."  She took this gentle hint, and after that was very kind to me, helping me in many ways with my work.

Soon we received word that Mrs. Jenks had decided to remain, and wished to know if I would not go East, to New York, and live with her.  I loved her enough to go a long distance to oblige her, but my parents did not wish me to go, so I gave up the idea at once.

When Miss Jenks and I parted, she said and I knew it came from her heart, "Goodbye, Mary, you have been a good girl, wouldn't you like to write to us?"  I should like to have done so, but feared I could not write well enough.

When Miss Peckham returned Mrs. Jenks sent me two beautiful presents.  One was a daintily embroidered chimisette of fine white material and a pink and white striped satin ribbon to go with it, and also a blue and white waist ribbon.

When the furniture was auctioned off a lady expressed a wish that she might engage the girl who had done their housework but I was not at every lady's service.

In the summer of 1888 I did work in the Manti Temple for Miss Jenks and had that of her brother Horace Howard Jenks attended to, but I could not do anything for my beloved Mrs. Jenks, as she was only fifteen years older than I, and the ruling is that if you are not positive of the death of a person for whom you wish to do a work, that at least 100 years must be allowed for their age.  At that time I was only 53 so that she would have been about 68 years old and in all possibility still alive.  I intend to have this matter hunted up and if she is dead, to do the work for her.

After leaving Mrs. Jenks I was recommended to a Mrs. Bertis who lived in affluence in a beautiful home.  When I called I found her sick of an intermittent fever.  She was a very interesting lady but in speaking of the work that I should be required to do I found that I was expected to wait on table.  This I could not brook.  The idea of coming in contact with strangers was more than I could bear. She tried to make me see how easy it would be, but I did not accept the position.

Mrs. Mason, the seamstress at Mrs. Jenks' told me of a place where help was wanted.  I applied but engaged only on trial. When I was fairly established I found that I was not only expected to do all the housework but also to clean all the rooms after the workmen, for the house had been undergoing repairs.  To do this I had to work night and day.  I believe they were poor, for I heard the lady acknowledge to a friend that they had to take in work.  The mother and a pretty young daughter, who had been very ill, worked all day in a dismal looking bedroom and I seldom saw them except when the ordered their meals.

There were 2 sons, Varn or Warren, and Bub.  Odd names, they seemed to me.  I remember hearing one of them remark that on a certain day he would have a sum of money, but just then he "Hadn't a red cent."  They were boat hands, or to use their own expression, they "ran on the river."  In my press of work I retired one night at 3 o'clock and rose at 5.  The nights were short and warm, and my bed a mattress laid on the floor, but I was glad to get a little rest in my room anyhow.

Besides all this work that was piled on my 16 year old shoulders these boys allowed me the privilege of cutting the wood, which made me look upon them with feelings akin to contempt and I thought them fine specimens of American gallantry.  Of course I did not stay there very long.  I only received $2 a week but managed to clothe myself quite neatly and save a little besides.  I bought myself a white straw cottage bonnet, white gloves and a pale blue dress (the one I have my picture taken in) and a dark satin fringed parasol, changeable satin, green and purple.

The young men wore fine white tucked shirts, trousers and belts, with straw hats.  The weather being so warm they seldom wore vests or coats.  As I passed along the street I would notice them turn and look at me but I had the satisfaction of holding my parasol so they could not see my face.  Some of my friends suggested that I ought to have white slippers to wear with this dress but I thought that too foppish and would not do so.

I think I went home with $14 which I gave to father to help to get our outfit for crossing the plains. We always had this object in view and I remember, when we were tempted to make little expenditures, father would say "Remember the wagon wheels."

That summer my dear mother was taken ill.  I tended her with loving care but on Monday morning, August 11^th after I had made up the lounge and made her comfortable there and was making up the bed on the other side of the room, something told me that mother would die.  I was not dismayed, for with this impression came a spirit of sweet peace and I felt that it was best that she should go and be at rest from her troubles.

Previous to this I had prayed with all the fervor of my eager young heart that the Lord would spare her life to reach the home of the Saints.  Little did I know of the hardships, trials and privations of this long journey and the repetition of want and scarcity of the necessaries of life which awaited our arrival here.  But there was One who did know, and in His great mercy took her from that which she could not have endured.

When I had completed the arrangement of the room I went over to our dear friend and neighbor, Sister Williams, and told her of the impression I had received and returned immediately.  Then I ventured to tell mother also.  She made no reply but asked me for her writing desk.  She looked for a paper upon which was some writing she wished me to see, but it was not there.  I told no one else of my impression.  I remember going to the office of Dr. Rutherford, and leaving word upon a slate upon the door for him to call.  He was a Scotchman and belonged to our church.  He came and pronounced her ailment Typhus Fever.  I remained alone with her all day, but was not afraid, as the same spirit of peace remained with me.  I had a little money of my own and was able to buy any little thing that I thought might add to her comfort.  We had a little nursery lamp that I used in preparing her food or for heating water.  A candle was used inside it.

I watched her by day and at night and took a pillow and rested on the floor near her couch, so that I might arise at any moment if she needed me. What would I give to know the feelings of my dear mother's heart during the 5 days of her illness.  I may know when we meet again.

On Thursday night father drew a chair up to her couch and asked her if she would be his in Eternity, but death was too near and she had not the power to answer.  At that time evidently father knew about the eternity of the marriage covenant and was anxious to have mother sealed to him when we should reach the Valley, for they had not had their endowments and had therefore been married for time only.

That night mother became delirious. By morning there was a great change for the worse.  Her face was flushed but her hands and feet cold and what few words she uttered were in a quick and unnatural manner but seemed to have reference to some pleasant recollections with regard to father. When the doctor came he said in a surprised manner "This is a bad case."  I was prepared for it and it was no surprise to me, for when I felt her hands and feet cold, the sad truth came to me with new force and I felt that death was near.

She continued about the same all day.  Bless her!  She said very little during her entire illness, and never a murmur or complaint of any kind escaped her lips.  Just before 5 o'clock my brother Charles came over and said Sister Williams wished to see me as she was also sick in bed.  I immediately went over and returned as quickly as possible but mother had passed away during my absence.  If she was conscious at the last it must have been a consolation to her that her only son was near her for she loved him most tenderly.  Father happened to be absent also just at the time, so Charles was the only one with her at the hour of her death, which occurred at 5 o'clock August 15, 1851.

Our friend Sister Eli Harrison came over and helped to prepare her for burial.  After she was laid out her dear face bore no trace of the sorrow and trials she had passed through but wore a sweet and peaceful expression.

About dark Bro. Williams came over and stayed with father while my brother and I went to spend the night at his home.  I remember, if we put out the light, my brother seemed to be troubled by some unpleasant influence.

Mother was buried the following afternoon.  Bro. And Sister Harrison, and as many of the Williams family as could attend, were with us.  I think very likely the Naylor family was also present.  In any case there were less than a dozen persons in attendance.  The funeral was held at our home and her dear remains were laid to rest from life's care and woe in the cemetery in St. Louis, Mo.  May her mortal remains there rest in peace until the resurrection morning, when I hope to be prepared to meet her who loved us so fondly.  After our return from the cemetery it seemed as if the fountains of my young heart would burst, for I realized that my dear mother was gone from me indeed.

The remainder of the summer I stayed at home and worked at binding fine slippers.  These were made of bronze leather, bound by hand with black silk ribbon and sewed with silk thread.  It was quite a difficult task, as the weather was so warm that we had to use powder on our hands to keep them dry and to make it easier for the needle to go through the leather.

In the fall, however, I went to do chamber work at a female seminary.  This school was kept by a Rev. Dr. Crowell and his wife, assisted by several teachers.  These were all ladies, except a Mr. Van Meter, teacher of Vocal Music.  This Dr. Crowell was the gentleman who corresponded with Orson Spencer, which correspondence was subsequently published in book form under the title of Spencer's Letters.  The doctor and his wife were very nice people, but my work was no child's play.

The school was held in a fine large dwelling house which they rented for the purpose.  A flight of broad stone steps led up to the front door which opened into two spacious parlors which were used as recitation rooms.  They were carpeted in dark red, while the chairs which filled the two rooms were white and of elegant shape.

Before the hour at which school started in the morning it was my duty to sweep and dust these rooms and also the hall, and clean the grates and build the fires. When school had commenced my work was in the bedrooms, which were very cold to work in as houses were not heated then as they are now.

A number of the students boarded there and among them I remember a Miss Wilder and two other young ladies, who were teachers, and whom I liked very much.  One day this Miss Wilder, Mrs. Crowell and I happened to meet at the front door, and as I stepped aside to allow the ladies to pass, Mrs. Crowell asked me how old I was, and when I told her 16 years, she turned to Miss Wilder and said, "Isn't she a perfect specimen of physical symmetry?"  Of course I liked that.

One of the young ladies, whose name I cannot remember was a consumptive.  I loved her and was willing to do anything I could for her.  She was very nice to me.  I think the Doctor and his wife were from Boston and it was considered quite an advantage to St. Louis that people of so much culture should come out West and open such a nice school, so it is no wonder that they were well patronized.  They reminded me of English people, and I shall never forget in the midst of so many opportunities for education, how my heart yearned with a desire for learning and especially to study music.

The Doctor used to call all the household into the parlor every morning for devotional exercises.

From here I went to live with a family of the name of Hughes.     The gentleman was Welsh but his wife was a rather comely American woman. They had two little children, the oldest a boy and a little girl named Pauline.  I was surprised to hear her say one day that she did not like the ____________children (using a very ugly word) but that Mr. Hughes liked them.  She seemed to be a woman of some refinement, and always behaved as a perfect lady to me.  She was a fine looking woman.

I think it was a Sunday night when I went there and had not been in the house long when Mr. Hughes asked me to sing, remarking "Most English ladies sing."  I sang one of my favorite songs, "She wore a wreath of roses."  He remarked during the evening to his wife that I had no brogue.  I replied that we were not allowed to use any.

Sometimes he would ask me what was preached in our meetings, and would try to tease me about gathering to Utah.

Mrs. Hughes was very kind and allowed me to do the work as I pleased, and would often talk to me and try to entertain me while I ironed in the dining room. She could sing quite nicely and accompanied herself upon the accordion.  If she did not like the children she was always good to them.

One day a well dressed, intelligent Irishman came there to board.  Soon after, one morning, at breakfast, he and Mrs. Hughes began praising the biscuits we had for breakfast.  "Yes," said Mr. McClanahan, for that was his name, "and Mary is a very nice girl."  And then in the presence of Mr. And Mrs. Hughes he asked me to marry him.  I told him "No."  At another time he came into the kitchen and putting his arm over my shoulder asked me again if I would not marry him.  I told him NO without even turning round.  Another morning after breakfast and in the presence of Mr. And Mrs. Hughes, he again asked me if I would not marry him in preference to going to Utah.  I told him I preferred to go to Salt Lake to marrying any man.  One Sunday, as I was returning from meeting, I saw him on the street and was so afraid that he would come and walk with me that I prayed that he might not, and he did not.  He afterwards told Mrs. Hughes that he saw me but was afraid that I should not be pleased, so did not come and walk with me.  He left there soon after.  I think the whole thing was planned by him and Mr. Hughes.  In fact, Mr. Hughes admitted as much to me later, saying that Mr. McClanahan had come there for that purpose, although I could not sense it at the time.

I used to sleep in the dining room while living here, and so anxious was I to get at my work in the morning that I used to say my prayers overnight for the next morning and rose about 5 o'clock, an hour or two before daylight.

It was Sunday evening when I went to their home, and it was Sunday evening when I left, March 15, 1852.  I left with the intention of preparing for our trip across the plains.

That same evening [15 March 1852] I called with my father, after meeting, to see our friends Bro. Eli Harrison and his wife. They introduced us to a Bro. Morris, from North Wales, who was visiting at their home. Taking his proffered hand I made this rather uncomplimentary remark: "They say that the North Welsh people are very deceitful." "Perhaps they are," was his prompt response. To speak in this manner was little less than an insult, and a strange way of receiving an introduction to a young gentleman. This was my reason: Two years previous to this time I had crossed the sea in company with a party of Saints from North and South Wales and the people from South Wales used to make this assertion with regard to the North Welsh. The moment I met Mr. Morris, I had the impression that he would become my husband, and I spoke in this discourteous way to test his metal. On the other hand Mr. Morris, at the moment of our meeting, had the assurance that I should become his wife, so perhaps that is why he took my remark so lightly. A few days later, while my father and I were on our way to spend the day with a Sister Huish, we passed by a house where Bro. Harrison was working as a painter and decorator. Hearing someone call to us and turning round we saw Bro. Harrison who invited us to come in and see the work, as the house was undergoing some repairs. Here too, we found Mr. Morris, who was assisting Bro. Harrison. We merely passed the time of day and departed. After spending a pleasant day with Sister Huish, who was an old acquaintance of father's from his missionary days in England, we returned about nine o'clock, calling in at Bro. Harrison's as was our custom.
Bro. Harrison then handed me a letter from Bro. Morris. The moment I received it I knew its contents, although I did not open it until after our return home, about midnight.
After reading it, I handed it to father, but said nothing. Father then read it and said, "I will answer that note."
It was written on rather stiff cream-colored paper, about six inches square, with the corners cut off. Mr. Morris was an artist and in the center of the sheet he had painted a beautiful red apple, streaked with yellow. The note was begun in the usual way at the top of the paper and continued around the apple, in a free, handsome handwriting, as follows:

 

St. Louis, Mo.
March, 1852

 

Dearly Beloved Mary Walker:

 

These are the feelings
of my heart towards you
I wish us to be one
in life and in
Eternity. If this
accords with your
mind please write
a note and send
it with the bearer.

 

Yours thoroughly,

JOHN T. MORRIS.

I considered this note frank, sincere and laconic. My mother had always warned me against flattery from men. In this there was none. I considered it the expression of an honest man, but as father had said that he would answer it I took no action in the matter. Days, and perhaps more than a week passed, and still father had made no reply to the note. But I rather think that Mr. Morris was not as unconcerned as I was, for every day or two, I believe at his suggestions, Bro. Harrison would speak to me about it. Once in a rather impatient manner he made this remark to me: "He," meaning Mr. Morris, "does not want to marry thy father, he wants to marry THEE."

Finally, becoming weary of Bro. Harrison's constant reminding I said to father, rather impatiently, "Mr. Morris is a respectable person, and he deserves civil treatment." I suppose then father thought he had better do something, for he could see that I was in earnest for I had never before, to my recollection, spoken in an unbecoming way to my father.

The next day, I think it was, he sat down and wrote to Mr. Morris, a very kind and respectful letter but telling him, among other things, that whoever had me for a wife must be in his (meaning father's) kingdom. This doctrine was very little understood by many of the Saints but father had given the matter some thought and felt that he did not wish to part with his child either in this life or the life to come.

Mr. Morris, however, being a man of good sense, did not bother about this particular part of father's letter.

Weeks and months passed and we seldom saw each other. One evening he called, bringing with him a Bro. Wilson, from Great Salt Lake. This gentleman was boarding at the same hotel as Mr. Morris, and proved to be a good and pleasant person, whose company father and I enjoyed very much. We were always pleased to meet Saints from the Valley.

Mr. Wilson made this remark, one evening, when I killed a cockroach that happened to be crawling across the floor: "Do you know, that little creature loves life as well as you do"

This remark made a deep impression upon me, and has had an influence upon my life ever since. Bro. Wilson and Bro. Morris continued to call at intervals for some time. Father and I would often walk part of the way back to the hotel where they boarded, with them.

On one of these evenings, father was walking with Bro. Wilson and I with Bro. Morris. Amongst other things our conversation turned on a young couple of our acquaintance. The young lady in question had been flirting with other young men while supposed to be engaged to the one under discussion. I made the remark in a very emphatic way: "I do not believe in that." He replied, "I think you are pretty smart, but I wish you would answer that note I sent you."

This request, made at a moment when I was not expecting anything of the kind, embarrassed me, for I was not at all prepared to answer it, so I made no reply, for I had not yet decided on the matter.

During the next few days I though a great deal and prayed constantly for Divine guidance in making my decision. On the Saturday following I prayed at intervals all day. It was a time of very solemn thought for me, for I realized that my decision at this time would affect my whole life. I looked the matter over in all its bearings and finally, in the afternoon, I wrote the following note to him:

BETROTHAL

Mr. Morris.

Dear Sir,

You have asked me if I am willing to become your wife. I am. The question was asked, it is now answered. I need say no more.

 

Yours truly,
Mary L. Walker.

 

That evening Mr. Morris came to see me and brought a bouquet of beautiful roses. I quietly handed him the note, but said nothing. He took the note and read it. During the evening we went up town for a walk and he bought me a beautiful little silver portemonnaie, or purse. On the sides was a raised design of a basket of flowers with a wreath of roses around the basket. The compartments inside were lined with red silk and edged with fine black kid. I had never seen anything so exquisite before, and of course I appreciated it very much. After our return, we were standing at the door, I on the step above him. As he was about to depart he slipped up and stole his first kiss. I was quite shocked, but on consideration, concluded he had right to do so, if men ever have a right to steal a kiss.

Sometimes Mr. Morris would bring other young men with him to see if I preferred them to him. I did not understand why he did this at the time and often wondered at it, but when I found out I thought it pretty smart of him.

My engagement ring was a heavy gold band called a "keeper" embossed with a sort of shield upon which were engraved my initials M. L. W.

We then exchanged daguerreotype likenesses. Mine was the one that my enlarged picture was made from and his was the only one that I have in my possession. He was about twenty-five when his was taken and I about seventeen when mine was taken.

All was not smooth sailing. Although father made no objection to our engagement he was not always agreeable when Mr. Morris called on me. I think that this was due to the fact that he could not bear to be parted from his child. He once told me that was his reason for deferring his answer to Mr. Morris's note for so long.

On account of my father's attitude, to save unpleasantness, when we were going out together, we would sometimes arrange to meet in town, instead of Mr. Morris calling for me. This touched my dignity, but we had some pleasant times, in spite of this fact.

I believed that my father's feelings had their influence upon me for sometimes I feared that I did not love my betrothed as I thought I should, and I felt that I would rather not marry at all than wrong the man I married by not giving him my whole heart. I wondered what I ought to do, and having no mother to confide in, I naturally turned to my father and asked his advice by writing to him, as I felt that I could not talk to him upon so delicate a subject. He answered my letter verbally and advised me y no means to break off my engagement. He told me that affection was sometimes stronger upon one side than the other, and made this remark, which I did not enjoy hearing: "In many cases wives love their husbands more than the husbands love their wives." At this time he made another remark which made a deep impression upon me and which I have referred to elsewhere in this sketch. It was this: "Those who honor God, God will honor."

This was a test of my father's feelings also, for if he had wanted me not to marry Mr. Morris he had a good opportunity to use his influence in that directions, but no, he advised me otherwise, and with his sanction I felt like letting things take their course.

I suppose many young people have doubts and fears and little trials during courtship.

 

FATHER RETURNS TO ENGLAND

We gave up the idea of going to the Valley that season as father went to England on business and expected to be gone all the winter. He gave me money to pay the rent and to buy coal, expecting that I should support myself, as I had done before, but to my surprise advised me not to marry. After he had gone I looked the situation squarely in the face. Here am I, I thought, living alone, engaged to be married, my betrothed coming to see me, as was his right, and willing to marry me at once except for my father's counsel to the contrary. My own common sense told me that if only for my good name's sake, I should either marry soon or discontinue my association with him, whose wife I had promised to become.

Oh, my mother! If thou couldst have known the shortsightedness of thy spouse in his advice to thy child, the grave could not have held thee!

On the 15th of August 1852 my mother had been dead one year. That evening we set the date of our marriage for September 5th. Mr. Morris being an artist, I submitted some samples of dress materials for my wedding dress to him for his approval. He made choice of a very pretty pattern, but one which I, with my Quaker training, considered rather gay. But concluding that my taste might be rather one-sided, I selected the one of his choice. The material was called barege-delaine and was very thin and gauzy. The background was a pale cloudy blue with pink roses not more than an inch in size. This dress, with a black silk scarf and a white bonnet, constituted my wedding suit.

 

MARRIAGE

We were married, immediately after meeting, about four o'clock on Sunday afternoon, September 5th, 1852, by Elder William Gibson, then president of the St. Louis Conference. We rented one room in the house in which our friends Bro. And Sister Harrison lived.

After our marriage my husband told me that he had prayed for a wife who might be clean, healthy and a good Mormon. Mark the simple earnest language of this young man of foreign birth.

He soon wrote home to tall his parents of his marriage. He told me what he wanted to say and so I put it into rhyme for him. This is how it ran:

 

"I was married on the fifth of September,
The day, long expected, I shall ever remember,
To a girl, the age of seventeen,

The sweetest girl that ever I've seen.
Mary Walker was her name,
She was without gold or fame,
A Mormon she is, in deed and heart,
And from the truth she ne'er intends to part."

 

After our marriage, my husband would tell me of having dreamed that he had married some other girl of his acquaintance, but that upon awakening he was thankful to find that he had the one whom the Lord had given him, in answer to prayer.

 

FOREBODINGS

About two weeks after we had been married an impression came to me that my husband would die. Indeed I might have thought of this before, as he had some sort of lung trouble but I naturally supposed he would get better after a while. He said that at one time after having walked a long distance, which caused him to perspire, he rode on a stage coach in the rain. The result was a heavy cold, which in spite of careful nursing settled upon his lungs and ultimately developed into consumption. From our first acquaintance he had been candid with me regarding his condition, but had I foreseen what the final result would be I would not have forsaken him for that.

So the winter wore on without any very bright prospect before us.

 

ARRIVAL OF RELATIVES

In the spring we received word that my husband's family was coming to Utah, and in April they arrived. Besides his parents there was his sister Barbara and brother Hugh, these being the only unmarried children in the family. Our meeting was a very pleasant one, for in loving my husband I loved all who belonged to him.

 

MY HUSBAND'S FAMILY

My husband's father was of medium height, well built, had light brown hair, blue eyes, fair complexion and rosy cheeks. He looked very happy, when he said, in his best English, "I am proud of my daughter-in-law."

My husband's mother was very small in stature, with curly hair, grey eyes, an olive complexion and very smooth skin and a rather dignified nose. She had her feelings well under control and was a person of few words. She was a woman of ability and a natural artist.

Father Morris, your grandfather, had worked his way up from a mason's laborer to a contractor and bridge builder. He was a man of industrious habits, full of integrity for the Gospel and fond of children.

My sister-in-law, Barbara, was small also but quite interesting. She was nineteen years old the month after their arrival. Her hair was brown, eyes grey, a good complexion and teeth, a shapely figure and a particularly attractive manner. Her brother, Hugh Conway, was also small of stature, had rather light hair, aquiline nose and was quite good looking. I cannot say that his eyes were either blue or grey, as he had one blue eye and one grey. He had had more educational advantages than his brothers, or had more time for study and was very intelligent. In fact he reminded one of a college student.

We soon began to arrange for our "trip to the Valley" as it was then called. My husband's family had paid their way from Liverpool to Salt Lake, in what was called the "Ten Pound Company," but how were my husband and I to go? Winter is not a very brisk season for painters and the spring work had hardly begun. However, we heard of a neighbor, whose wife had emigrated in the "Ten Pound Company" but was desirous of remaining in St. Louis, as her husband and daughter, who had preceded her some time previous, were not prepared to go on to the Valley at that time.

 

TO THE VALLEY

My husband therefore purchased the half way ticket for me and on the 17th May, 1853, Father and Mother Morris, their son Hugh Conway, daughter Barbara and I left the city of St. Louis, Mo., for the home of the Saints in the Great Salt Lake Valley.

After about a weeks travel we arrived in Keokuk. We spent the night in what must have been a baggage shed for there was merchandise of great variety stowed away all about us and we were awakened at dawn by the crowing of roosters. I was sad because I did not know whether I should meet my husband again before we reached our journey's end or not, but I was willing to make the sacrifice, come what might. From here we moved to Montrose where we stayed until the company's outfitting was all completed. This consisted of purchasing cattle, wagons and provisions for our one thousand miles journey across the plains.

One evening I was taking a little walk a short distance from the Camp and saw a number of persons coming towards us, one of them proving to be, to my great delight, my dear husband. In this I felt that the Lord had accepted our sacrifice but did not require of us as much as we were willing to endure. And here is a valuable lesson: to be willing to do the will of God is often all that he requires. At Montrose we met for the first time our future beloved and highly esteemed captain Joseph W. Young, son of Lorenzo Dow Young and nephew of Pres. Brigham Young. He was a man of medium height, medium complexion, manner grave and unassuming. He had a beautiful wife with him, but she was an invalid, which perhaps accounted for his grave demeanor.

Before we started he gave us this advice: "Contend with no one, pray for those who are set over you and they will prove a blessing unto you."

He was a young man when he said that, but in the fifty years which have elapsed since then I have proved his words to be true.

When we had been some time on the plains he called us together to talk to us as a leader must talk to those who are under his guidance. Amongst other things he said was, "A man who talks about doing 'his share of the work' should be fed with a teaspoon and sleep with his mother." Once or twice I caught a glimpse of his beautiful wife as I passed their covered wagon.

We had one wagon and one tent to ten persons. Our ration, or allowance of provisions, was one pound of flour and a portion of bacon each day, but we were at liberty to provide any extras we could afford. There was a commissary to every ten and a captain of every ten, also captains of fifty's who assisted Captain Young. The late Pres. John R. Winder was captain of our fifty.

A great deal of patience was required by both captains and people to perform the trip of one thousand miles across the plains. We had four oxen and two cows to each ten. The wagons were for our baggage and we walked alongside or ahead of the teams, perhaps riding once or twice a day, for half an hour or so. One day I walked twenty miles, the whole day's journey, without riding at all. Twenty miles was the distance we were supposed to cover each day and sometimes we would have to camp without either wood or water. In this case we were compelled to gather buffalo chips with which to build a fire to cook our supper. Sometimes there was no feed for our cattle in the place where we camped for the night, in which case we had to rise early and travel on until we reached a place where the cattle could feed while we cooked and ate our breakfast.

Our bread we mixed with a piece of light dough or leaven, but often by the time we reached the camping ground, especially in warm weather, it was sour, or in cold weather not sufficiently raised and then we had heavy bread. Sometimes, however, it was just right and then we had excellent bread.

While our extras lasted our rations were abundant, but when they were gone they were insufficient. Father Morris would not only walk all the way, but carried a double-barrel shotgun, with which he often shot rabbits or prairie chickens. One evening, when our food was scanty, I asked your grandmother where she had got the pepper from? She replied that there was no pepper. (I doubt if there was any in the camp.) Yet it certainly seemed to me that I could taste pepper in our rabbit supper. One day when it was still colder and our provisions less than ever, our commissary, Bro. William Parry, gave us some bread which certainly seemed to have sugar in it, when perhaps there was none in camp.

 

AN INDIAN EPISODE

One afternoon, as we were traveling in the vicinity of Platt River, we saw, at a great distance, two objects coming towards us. As they approached we saw that they were Indians, Pawnees, a very savage tribe who were at war, at that time, with the Souix, another savage tribe.

At sight of these two Indians, the teamsters stopped their wagons and reached for their guns, while the women came to the wagons for protection. As these first two Indians came to a standstill, they said, "Pawnee shoot! Pawnee shoot!" Then more Indians came, dressed in their trappings and war paint, their numbers seeming to increase every moment. I was not afraid however. Something seemed to bear witness to me that they would not harm us. One of them came and talked to me, and wanted the little blue jacket I was wearing. There was no more traveling that night. After the fires had been lighted the Pawnee chief came and patrolled our camp all night, to protect us from his own band. I sat and looked at him with pride and pleasure; he seemed so noble and grand. Also I could feel a protecting power over us that was more than mortal. It is likely that he felt this influence and that a superior power inspired him to do as he did. It seems to me that I can never forget the spirit of calm and serenity that surrounded us as I sat, on an ox yoke, almost alone, near the dying embers of our camp fire. So the night passed, the morning dawned, we were permitted to continue our journey unmolested and unharmed, filled with gratitude to our Heavenly Father for his merciful protection.

When the rivers were too deep for us to cross in the wagons, the young men would carry us over. I think that Wood River was the most remarkable one on our journey. I crossed it on horseback, behind Dr. Dunyon, a near relative of Mrs. William D. Johnson, Sr.

The night we camped on the banks of this river, the watchman, in telling the hour, would add, "Mosquitoes tiresome." But they were more than tiresome; it seemed to me that they would devour us.

We crossed the Platt river at intervals during five hundred miles of our journey, and walked much on its sandy banks. In fact the whole region of this river seemed sandy. I remember, in walking, I was so anxious to save the soles of my shoes, that I walked in the grass whenever possible, so that the uppers wore out first.

 

ANOTHER PREMONITION

When about half way on our journey I again had the impression that my husband would die. I could not keep back my tears and sobbed as if my heart would break. I was ashamed for the family to see me, for there was no privacy, except away from the camp. I never knew what they thought of my grief, but my impressions proved to be true. At another time, while crossing the plains I was very ill. I had no desire for food, and the only medicine we had was a little rice water. I did not mind much whether I recovered or not, but I did not like the idea of leaving my husband and his mother.

 

TRYING TIMES

We found it very trying when the wind was high, especially as this seemed to be the case when it was raining. Then we would try to put up our tent in order to protect ourselves from the tempest which often seemed as if it would lift our canvas home from its foundations after we had succeeded in erecting it. This was often a long and tedious process. First hooks, shaped like crochet hooks were driven into the ground, the hooks holding the rope, which held the tent to the ground, but when a high wind was blowing the tent would be lifted from its holdings as fast as the man tried to fasten the rope to the pegs.

Then again, when we came into camp, tired and hungry and would have to hunt buffalo chips, in the dark, and could not get a mouthful to eat until bread had been baked by this slow process. But when the evenings work was done, the bugle sounded and we assembled for prayers. In the early part of our journey, when the days were long, we would sit on the yokes of the oxen and sing hymns, but as the nights grew colder, we often heard the wolves howling not far from us.

 

THE POST OFFICES

As we journeyed across the plains we often passed a "Post Office." This would mean the skull of an ox or buffalo bleached white by exposure, upon which was written, probably, as follows: "July 15th, 1853. The Company of Jacob Gates passed today. All well." "August 15th, 1853. The Company of Cyrus Wheelock passed today. All well." And this news cheered us and we were glad to know that our friends were well and progressing on their journey even if the message were only taken from a dry bone. A similar message was of course added by our captain telling of our safe arrival.

When we had made about half of our journey, I think still upon the Platt River, we came to Chimney Rock. It was so tall that it was in view two or three days before we reached it, and could still be seen several days afterwards as we continued our journey.

I must not forget to speak of our little milch cows. These faithful creatures, though giving milk to supply us on our journey, were yoked to the wagon, between the lead and tonue cattle. They looked very small indeed, as they pulled in front of one yoke and behind the other. I do not remember them by name, but I know the lead cattle were called Tom and Bill and those attached to the tongue, answered to the names of Dick and Ned. Unfortunately our little cows became dry, or so nearly dry that they gave but a teacup full of milk a day. The consequence was, that our camp kettle, that used to be full of good milk gruel for our breakfast, became gradually a kettle full of flour starch with only a cup full of milk added.

 

WELCOME AID

A few days before we reached our journey's end a team and provisions were sent to our aid. I was invited, with others, to ride, but was so overcome with fatigue and also perhaps, the reaction at feeling that our tedious journey was nearly at an end, that I fainted, in the wagon. Regaining consciousness, I found myself in a sitting posture, on the ground, my dear mother-in law in front of me and my husband, supporting my back, he trembling the while, and I heard her say to him, in the Welsh language, "It is want of food that ails her."

 

BIG MOUNTAIN

Before reaching the Great Salt Lake Valley, we had another high mountain to cross, called Big Mountain. We were anxious to get to it, but dreaded the ascent. It was a fine day on October 10th, 1853, when we reached it. We had previously arranged our attire, as best we could, after such a long journey, in expectation of meeting with our friends, as many of the Saints came to greet the companies as they arrived.
There was a great variety of trees growing on the side of the mountain, the road was hard, level and well trodden and as we descended into the canyon below the scenery was grand indeed. I remember, while ascending the Big Mountain, and stopping to take breath, I looked around, above and below and came to the conclusion that "never again, in this life, do I want to cross that mountain." Among the brush I saw a bush bearing wild berries and being very hungry, I ate some of them, not knowing what they were, but they affected me like poison.

 

LITTLE MOUNTAIN

We had still one more mountain to cross, called Little Mountain, but upon descending, began to feel more cheerful as we began to meet persons coming to fetch their friends or relatives. The first person whom we were acquainted with was Bro. Caleb Parry, brother of William Parry, our Commissary.
I could not understand why my only sister, whom I had not seen for a period of seven years, had not come to greet me.

I was most forcibly struck with the neat, clean and fair appearance of the people as they came up to us and did not realize that in proportion as they looked fair and clean to us we looked correspondingly brown and grim to them. I especially remember a Sister Grateriz, mentioned in another part of this sketch. She looked so neat and clean that it gave me additional pleasure to see her. I thought I looked pretty well for I had taken a good wash, every morning, before starting our day's walk and had taken care to shade my face.

 

WE CAMP IN GREAT SALT LAKE CITY

Our camping ground was situated immediately west of where the Salt Lake Knitting Factory now stands, in the Sixteenth Ward. There was a little round house built nearby, later occupied by your Uncle Richard.

I think it was our friend Bro. Harrison, who came to the camping ground to see us and took us to find my sister, Mrs. Ann Agatha Pratt. Her home was situated just west of where the Elias Morris & Sons Company marble yard now stands, and on the ground at present occupied by the Vermont Building, or perhaps a little west of that structure.

 

MEETING WITH MY SISTER ANN AGATHA PRATT

My sister had that day presented her husband, Apostle Parley P. Pratt, with a twelve-and-a half pound boy in the person of her oldest son Moroni Walker Pratt. I may just state here, as I may never mention him again, that this boy as he grew to manhood developed the courage of a lion with the meekness and gentleness of a lamb, and other qualities to correspond.

I do not think that my sister had grown during the period of our separation, for she attained her full height at the age of fourteen, only that lying stretched out in bed she appeared taller. She looked lovely, so exquisitely clean and rosy. Everything in her room and surrounding her was spotlessly clean and appeared so comfortable to one who had just passed through such an experience as we had.

As I was only ten years of age when she left England I had, as it were, to readjust my mental picture of her, in order to realize that this beautiful woman lying with her infant clasped to her bosom, was the sister of my childhood.

After a few hours of conversation we bade her goodnight, leaving her to her much needed rest, and betook ourselves to our camping ground.

 

GREETINGS FROM FRIENDS

The following morning Bro. Geo. B. Wallace and Bro. Lorenzo Dow Young, came to see us and talked to us as a company. The latter was the father of our beloved Captain Joseph W. Young, for whom we got up a Memorial as a token of the love and esteem in which he held him.

Father John Parry, a dear friend of the Morris family also came during the day. He was the father of John Parry, who built the Logan Temple; also of William and Caleb Parry, before named and Joseph Hyrum and Edwin F. Parry. He was a dear old gentleman and a sweet singer. He had been a Campbellite before joining the Church.

A year previous Elias Morris, my husband's brother had emigrated and settled in Iron County, so Father and Mother Morris with their daughter and son Hugh continued the journey south to Cedar City while my husband and I remained in Salt Lake. We went to live with a family of the name of Pell. Our acquaintance with Bro. Pell had begun in St. Louis when he boarded in the same hotel as my husband.

Bro. Pell had two sisters, Josephine and Martha, very respectable cultured girls. They were from the east and milliners by trade. We were the best of friends but it was hard for people who had just taken the journey across the plains to eat at another person's table. We could not be satisfied with an ordinary amount of food and were hungry all the time.

Soon after our arrival these young ladies were taken ill with Mountain Fever, and I nursed them. Miss Josephine soon recovered but Miss Martha for many days lingered between life and death. One evening as we stood around her bed expecting to see her breathe her last, she turned her eyes towards her brother and whispered, "Lige, I know I ought to be baptized," and she desired to have the matter attended to the following morning. The weather was cold, but I do not remember whether there was ice on the water or no, but the following morning she was baptized in City Creek by Bro. John Snider and she was healed.

Bro. Pell and my husband had gone into business in a small way soon after we went to live with them but as winter closed in there was no work or prospect of any for some time to come.

 

CHRISTMAS 1853

We spend Christmas with my husband's cousin Isaac Conway Morris who lived in a house on North Temple and near Fourth West Street. The room was without ceiling and I think without plaster. The first was composed of three small sticks of wood placed across two adobes and the sticks were so green that we could see the sap ooze out of them and hear it sing. Wood was scarce everywhere, as the canyon had been snowed up since the autumn. They had a little baby, born on the plains September 13th, three months previous, and as they had been in our ten, we were acquainted with the circumstance.

Our supper was very plain, consisting of potatoes, some kind of bread and I think a small amount of meat, perhaps a little piece of bacon.

The house was very cold, and we sat keeping warm this fire of three green sticks, and all the light we had came from the same source. And so passed our first Christmas in the Valley.

 

OPENING OF THE YEAR 1854

Though want stared us in the face we preferred it to obligation, so early in January we took a room in the home of Bro. Alfred Randall situated half a block north of the northwest corner of the Temple Block. The room was small but neatly finished. We had no wood for fuel but a kind hearted Scottish brother hauled some willows for us to burn. When we found o ne a little thicker than a broom handle we were glad. I do not know how we obtained flour, but I remember we had to content ourselves with "shorts" during the nine days. We had no stove, but burned our willows in a small fireplace. We had one saucepan, but perhaps that was a borrowed one. When we had bread to bake my husband would go down to Sixth or Seventh West Street to borrow a baking kettle from a good-natured Welsh Sister named Daniels, and when our loaf was baked, return it. It was a cast iron vessel and very heavy. I remember going with him once, and while he carried the vessel I carried the lid, but I know either was as much as one would care to lift.

 

HOUSEKEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES

We had no chairs or table but my husband managed, some way, to get two stools. I think he paid for them in painting. Then we obtained a dry goods box, which we elevated by some means, and I took an old light-colored skirt, starched and ironed it, and put a shirring at the top and I looked quite neat around the box which served us for a table.

One the plains we were obliged to dispense with our little clothes chest, on account of its weight, so we sewed up our clothing in a bed tick. This, filled with straw, was our bed, and our pillows were filled with the same substance and remained plump.

I have no idea where we obtained a candlestick, if we had one, which was not a very necessary utensil in our household, however, as a candle was a luxury we seldom enjoyed. Our fireplace, too, smoked so badly that at times we could hardly see each other across the room.

About this time my husband contracted a severe cold, losing his voice, so that he could hardly speak above a whisper.

I think that the only work that came during the first two months of the year was a little stand to be painted as a checker-board, but we were glad to get it, as we hoped by this means to be able to buy a little meat which we so much desired. But instead of money or provisions, the young man offered in payment to make a rolling pin or a potato masher! I was still using both when I broke up housekeeping in 1902. Our library consisted of a Book of Mormon, Goldsmith's History of England, a Book of Etiquette for Gentlemen, bound in red, which belonged to my husband, and a Book of Etiquette for ladies, bound in pale blue and gold, which he gave to me. Also a volume of the Times and Seasons, which I have given to my son Nephi, and a book on Obstretics.

My husband would sometimes look at me as if he expected me to complain, but a murmur never passed my lips, for we had been taught that it was wrong to murmur. Upon seeing this, he said to me, "You shall see better times, for what you have passed through."

In the month of February we received our Patriarchal blessings, under the hands of the presiding patriarch, John Smith, who was uncle to the Prophet Joseph. This good man told us things that we did not know about ourselves, but which afterwards proved true. My husband happened to have a dollar in cash in his pocket and so paid for the blessing, but I had nothing wherewith to pay for mine, so I gave a pair of gold earrings in place of the money, until I could redeem them. The lady who wrote the blessing accepted the earrings. She was Mrs. Augusta, wife of John L. Smith, and daughter-in-law to the Patriarch.

 

A BLESSING

Salt Lake City, Feb. 4th, 1854
A blessing, by John Smith, Patriarch, upon the head of Mary Lois Morris, daughter of William and Mary Walker, born in Leek, Staffordshire, England, May 14th, 1835.

 

MY BLESSING

Sister Mary, In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I lay my hands upon thy head and seal upon you a Patriarchal, or a Father's blessing. The destroyer shall not hurt you when he passeth through the land. You shall be blessed with health and all the blessings of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and all the priesthood that was conferred upon the daughters of Ephraim in the land of Egypt. Your posterity shall be very numerous and extend their dominions to the ends of the earth. You shall have faith to heal the sick in your house, to cast out devils and even to raise the dead if it is necessary. You shall prosper in all things you set your hands to do. The powers of darkness shall not prevail against you. You shall live to see the winding up scene of this generation. You shall see your Redeemer, and converse with Him and shall inherit all the blessings and glories of that kingdom with all your father's house. Even so, Amen.

The earrings just mentioned, stood the lady in good stead many years afterwards, when her husband was on a mission, and still later she brought them back again and returned them to me by the hand of Aunt Bathsheba Smith, free of charge for my blessing given fifty-seven years previously. They are still in good condition and I gave them to my daughter Kate.

During the latter part of the winter of 1854 and in the spring, my husband was engaged in painting portraits. He made life-size bust pictures of Apostles Parley P. Pratt and George A. Smith. Also a three-quarter portrait of Patriarch John Smith. The patriarch was ill at the time and the picture was completed when he was really dying.

 

A PROSPEROUS SPRING

Notwithstanding the difficulty of the different sittings a very good likeness was obtained. My husband also painted a family group of about twenty persons for Apostle Parley P. Pratt and another family group for Edmond Ellsworth.

He also painted some chairs for a Bro. Dallas, a furniture maker, and took chairs in exchange for his work. These he grained in mahogany and being well varnished they had a very handsome appearance. Two full-length mirrors also came his way, one of which we kept and the other my sister Agatha was very glad to buy as she was in the Millinery business. A Brother Coleman of the Tenth Ward, a cabinet maker by trade, made the frames for them, and as these were grained in mahogany of a darker shade than the chairs, ours made quite a nice addition to our room. Soon after we were fortunate enough to secure a bedstead and this too being grained to match the chairs, all our furniture corresponded. A Sister Horner wanted some painting done, and offered a piece of very choice rag carpet, and a Sister Davis, sister of our esteemed landlady, also had a fine quilt to dispose of for some painting. I am not sufficiently versed in the science of geometry to describe it, but it was very pretty. These acceptable articles came to us about the time of spring cleaning, and my husband calcomined the walls of our room cream color. These were decorated with the unfinished oil paintings which were set off to advantage on the spotless walls. We had brought with us some white curtains and as the season advanced these contrasted prettily with the purple morning glories blooming outside our little windows.

We were able to add a little also to our stock of kitchen utensils, but while dinner plates were fifty cents each and everything correspondingly high priced, our progress along this line was necessarily slow. Our little home began to look quite handsome for those early days.

In the month of September we secured a very nice leaf table and soon after a cover in scarlet and black. We now began to feel that we had about as much as could be desired for one small room.

By this time my husband was in great demand for his work, for he not only understood portrait painting, marbling, graining and fresco work, but also house and carriage painting. One of his patrons I remember with great pleasure, was Bro. Jedediah M. Grant, counselor to Pres. Young. During the summer of 1854 my husband painted a carriage for him, the wheels of which were done in vermillion with narrow lines of yellow down the center of each spoke. He also painted some cupboards or bookcases in American oak with which Bro. Grant was very pleased, for I heard him say, "Bro. Morris, I know that this graining is done correctly, for I have cut just such beautiful oak in my native state of Kentucky." In part payment Bro. Grant brought from the canyon two loads of excellent oak and maple for our winter's fuel. I can see him now unloading his two well filled undergears into our dooryard for winter use.

 

A SON IS BORN

On October 17th a son was born to us. He was a healthy looking child and weighed nine and-a-half pounds. We named him John Walker. When he was about nine days old he began to cough. We used simple remedies but without result. In spite of the cough he seemed to thrive and developed into an intelligent looking baby with large blue eyes, light brown hair, well marked eyebrows, fine features and a fair complexion. I loved him very dearly. The way had opened up before his birth so that we obtained some beautiful material for his clothing which I made by hand with a great deal of pleasure.

 

A WARNING VOICE

One evening, when he was two or three months old I was sitting alone with him on my lap, his father being at quorum meeting, when I was deeply impressed, or something whispered to me, "You will lose that little one." This caused me to feel very sad and when my husband came home I told him of the impression that I had received. He replied, "Perhaps you were mistaken," but I had no doubt about it.

 

FAILING HEALTH OF HUSBAND AND BABY

We were now in prosperous circumstances, my husband being crowded with work, some being so anxious to obtain it that they paid for it in advance. Though being perhaps the youngest painter in the town, he was very popular, and on one occasion, invited his fellow workmen to our home for the purpose of considering matters relative to their trade. They formed an association of which, I think, he was made the president. As winter advanced, however, his health and that of the baby, began to decline. So we concluded to call in our neighbor, Bro. Anthony Ivins, who had a reputation for medical skill. With reference to my husband, he asked if he had night sweats. Although still in my teens, this question was full of foreboding. The symptom, however, had not developed at that time, but did later. In reply to my inquiry about the baby, he said that he had taken his father's disease.

In our anxiety about our little one we asked a friend, who was something of an astrologer, what he thought about him. He said, "If he lives, he will be a brighter man than his father ever was, allowing that his father is pretty bright."

My husband's health did not improve and he grew weaker every day, but he was so anxious to work, especially to finish the pieces for which he had already received payment, that he would not give up, even when he was so ill that on returning home he had to support himself by holding onto the fences.

 

WE GO TO CEDAR CITY

About this time we received an invitation from his father and mother to go down to Cedar City and visit them. The invitation seemed opportune, as we thought the change to a somewhat milder climate might be beneficial to him and the baby.

Arrangements had been previously made for us to make the journey with a Bro. Wesley Willis, in his covered wagon. This Bro. Willis was an intelligent man, in good standing in the Church, and he was very kind to us. It was in January 1855 that we started on our three hundred mile journey through the frost and snow. Our mode of travel was to make an early start with a heated rock at our feet to keep us from freezing, and at night we would stop at friends of Bro. Willis's. One night we stayed with a Mrs. Roper, a friend of my father's. She was so handsome, intelligent and kind that it made me happy to look at her.

The journey was very fatiguing to my husband, and the baby was so ill that as I sat with my husband at my side and my baby on my lap I did not know which would die first. Just before we reached Cedar City, it seemed that the baby would surely die, but his father, sick as he was, administered to him and he grew better, and both lived to reach the journey's end.

When we arrived we were taken to the home of my husband's brother, Elias, who entertained us until Father and Mother Morris came to take us to their humble but cheerful home with a kindly welcome.

 

DEATH OF THE BABY

We did all that we could for the invalids, but the baby grew steadily worse, and for the second time I was strongly impressed that he would die. Finally he was taken with convulsions, and on the Second of February he passed away. We laid him in the new and barren graveyard in Cedar City, Iron County, and so I drank the bitter cup of parting with my own flesh and blood.

 

THE SHADOW OF DEATH STILL HOVERING OVER US

My hands were now empty and I could give more attention to my husband, who was no better of his affliction. The month of February 1855 was very mild in Cedar City and we would take a walk every day for the benefit of his health. He had a peculiarity during his illness that I could not understand at the time, but later learned that it was characteristic of a consumptive. When a friend would meet him and tell him he was looking better he would reply that he was not feeling so well, but if they happened to say he looked worse, he would always insist that he was better. Sometimes I took him outside the Fort, as the wall protected him from any cold blast. During these walks, nearly everybody we met had a different remedy to offer, but we had brought with us the best remedy, i.e., Cod Liver Oil.
The 20th of February fell upon a Sunday that year, and as he was accustomed to go out every day we thought it would not hurt him to go to meeting, it being but a block away. That day, however, he seemed especially weak and as we came out of the meetinghouse a stiff wind came up, which nearly took his breath, but father and mother being with us we managed to get him home all right and seated him in an arm chair at the fireside. In taking off his shoes I noticed his feet were swollen and though very young at the time it seemed to me a bad omen, and went right to my heart, and I called mother's attention to it but she made some reply to make me think lightly of it. Although this was done in kindness it did not at all remove the anxiety that this new symptom had created.

The next morning he was no better. I had just put the bedding out to air when he asked me to engage in prayer with him. The burden of it was a supplication that his life might be spared as we loved each other and wished to remain upon the earth together. It seemed to us that some climax was approaching.

It happened that the Stake Presidency were in the settlement at the time and they were called in to administer to him. They told him that he had faith, and his family had faith, he should be healed. After the administration he walked across the floor alone. I went outside the fort wall and thanked my Heavenly Father for the promise that the Elders had made.

Towards dusk however, he grew worse. Toward evening his brother Elias and his wife came down, when the former administered to him, using their own, the Welsh, language. I regretted that he had not spoken in English. Elias asked us if his brother had seen anything and we told him he had not. He and his wife then returned home, but about nine o'clock as my husband was so much worse, we sent for him again as my husband had a great love for and all confidence in his brother Elias.

Elias, mother, and I continued to watch at the bedside all night. The poor sufferer was restless and could not remain long in one position as his breathing was difficult. Part of the time he would be in bed and then in a few minutes sitting in his chair again. Towards morning, or long past midnight (there was no clock in the house) I could see that the end was drawing near. He was in bed, and the sweats of death were already upon him. We all continued to watch, except his father, who had laid down to rest. While Father Morris was sleeping, he dreamed that he saw a man carrying a suit of empty clothes across his shoulder. We took this as a bad omen.

 

A MOMENTOUS COMPACT

Feeling that my husband's end was near, and being anxious to know if he had anything upon his mind and fearing that he might become unconscious at any moment, I asked if he had anything to say to me. His answer surprised me. He said, "You speak as if a fellow were going to die." I said nothing more, but continued to watch with anxious eyes. Finally he said, "If anything should happen that I do die, I do not want you to leave the family." I replied that I had no desire to do so. Then, turning to Elias, he said, "Will you take Mary, and finish the work that I have begun" Elias said, "I have no objection, if she is willing." I replied, "I am." He then said, "Do as Elias bids you, be obedient to him and do not be influenced by other women, but do as you have done."

 

BEREAVEMENT

A few hours later, about nine o'clock in the morning as he was sitting straight up in his chair, he looked up to the ceiling, at the corner over his bed, opposite to where we were sitting, and said, "I see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and John, and the Angels." As he told us what he saw his eyes were staring wide open, and appeared almost black in color. When the vision ended, his eyes closed, his jaw fell and his spirit was released from its fair, but frail tenement.

He was prepared for burial by a friend of the family, a Mrs. Hannah Evans, who told us that he had been during the night to call her, as many others had done for whom she had performed the last offices.

When Elias returned home the next morning, his wife knew as much as he did and testified that John had been to see her during the night, while we were still watching him, and had told her that Elias was going to take me and had asked her to be kind to me.

As soon as I could, that morning, I wrote down the words that my husband had said to me, intending to carry them out as long as life should last.

So was I, while yet in my teens, bereft in the short period of Twenty days, of my husband and my only child, in a strange land, hundreds of miles from my blood kin and with a mountain of difficulty before me.

I will here explain that in the fall of 1852 Apostle Orson Pratt was sent to Washington, D. C., to publish a little periodical entitled the Seer. In this but two subjects were treated, viz., Patriarchal Marriage, and the Pre-existence of Man. We subscribed for the Seer, and read and believed its teachings. One of its doctrines was from the law of Ancient Israel, that if a man died without issue, his brother should take the widow to wife and raise up children to his deceased brother, that in the morning of the Resurrection he might take her and children she had borne in the second marriage and present them to his brother.

So you will see, my dear children, how the reading of this pamphlet, "The Seer," had prepared us for the events that were awaiting us.

This second bereavement opened the wound of the first afresh and I wished that I too, might die and join my loved ones.

Being so young it seemed to me that I could not endure the thought of a corpse being in the rooms where we lived. There was a little room leading out of the living room, and not much used, and here the dear remains lay while the coffin was being made. Even then, I felt as if I could not remain in the house, so went to the home of a very dear friend of ours, Bro. Job Rowlands, who lived next door. Here I paced the floor hour after hour in an agony of distress.

 

FUNERAL

The coffin was of plain white wood and an ordinary wagon served for a hearse, and there we, the mourners, sat: Father and mother Morris, Elias and his wife, myself, and a very few friends. It was a dark, stormy day, the 23rd of February, 1855, and the clouds seemed to hover over us as we sat in the wagon, surrounding the remains as they were conveyed to the cemetery of Cedar City, Iron County, Utah.

A young man in rough attire, followed on horseback, and I think I shall never forget him for that act of sympathy shown in that hour of grief. His name was Jack Walker and he was a resident of Cedar City. The grave of our little son, which had been made but eighteen days previous, was opened to receive the body of his father.

Later the loving brother Elias erected a monument to mark their resting place upon which was engraved an inscription in the characters of the Deseret alphabet.

As we sat by the firelight after our return from the cemetery I looked back upon my life, and though in deep sorrow, I was able to see where the hand of the Lord had been over me and felt how thankful I should be that he had sent me to parents who had taught me to serve Him in all things, and to count all things as dross, compared with the wisdom that God gives to His faithful children.

As a little child I had so loved to attend meeting that I often went alone, even on dark nights, and there I drank in the Spirit of the Gospel which now, in the hour of bereavement and tribulation, was with me to strengthen me and give me hope which reached beyond the grave. I felt that I had served God to the utmost of my ability, that I had His approval, and that He would stand by me.

 

WIDOWHOOD

My husband's parent sympathized deeply with me and told me that I should have a home with them as long as they lived. I appreciated their kindness, and as their only daughter Barbara, a girl about my own age, had just married, and their youngest son, Hugh Conway, was absent from home, there seemed to be a niche in the home that I might fill. As I understood housework and sewing I could make myself generally useful to my good adopted parents, for like Ruth of old, I intended to remain true to them and to their beloved departed son.

One Sunday evening I was taking a walk with my friend, Sister Mary Rowlands, and we passed by the mill, where I had so often taken my husband to walk for the benefit of his health. I was reminded of his absence and my intense loneliness and as I wept bitterly I could see, as it were in mental vision, the steep hill of life I should have to climb and felt the reality of it with great force. A deep depression settled upon me, for the enemy knows when to attack us, but our Elder Brother is mighty to save. Through my home training in Christ's example, a practical knowledge of the principles of the Gospel and the help given me of the Father, I was able to battle with all the forces which seemed to be arrayed against me at this time. Having had a thought which I knew was not right, I supposed I should confess it to my block teacher, but this experienced and intelligent Saint, instead of expressing censure, blessed me and said, "You will yet receive a great exaltation."

As spring approached, one Sunday I was invited with father and mother to go to tea, after meeting, at the home a brother, and there met William and Margaret Williams, who were members of the choir. The afternoon passed pleasantly and by entreaty I sang a song for them. I think this was the first time I had been out since my husband's death, except to meeting. Soon afterwards, I was invited to join the choir. When I attended the first practice, the leader said to me, "Thou must come up by me, because thou art bashful."
In this choir I found many friends whom I learned to love very dearly. They were mrs. Ellen Whittaker Lunt, Sarah Whittaker Chaterly, Mary Whittaker Thornton, and later Mrs. Mary Ann Wilson Lunt. Sisters Ellen W. Lunt and Mary Ann Wilson Lunt were the wives of Bishop Henry Lunt. I also met John M. and Ann Chaterly McFarlane. May I meet these dear people in a better world hereafter.

The peculiar circumstances surrounding my widowhood, and the agreement I had entered into at the time of my husband's death caused some rather unkind criticism by those who did not countenance the principles I was expected to sustain. This opposition was very hard for me to bear, especially as sorrow had rendered me extremely sensitive. But my trust was in the living God.

One Sunday afternoon there was a testimony meeting which I think I shall never forget. It was a great effort for me to arise at the prompting of the Spirit of God, yet I dared not disobey. As I stood, saying my few words in weakness a feeling came over me that the Lord was on my side AND ALL THE WORLD COULD NOT HURT ME. I had accidently heard that by a certain class I was nicknamed "Holy Woman," but I did not mind it much as long as the Lord was my guide.

In the month of May following my bereavement, Pres. Young and a company came down to visit the settlements, and my brother-in-law went to see him relative to my husband's death and the covenant entered into.

This met the President's full approval and he set the date for its consummation for a year from that time. The deferring of this event for that length of time was a great consolation to me, for while I had confidence and great respect for my husband's brother, the thought of marriage at that time went against all my natural feelings.

I continued to live with Father and Mother Morris, who were always kind to me and I was as contented as I could be under the circumstances. I knew at least I was earning my bread. Of clothing there was none to be had.

Our social enjoyments consisted of quilting parties or a wool picking, the 4th and 24th of July celebrations and Christmas.

In the autumn I was invited by a Brother Wardman Holms to join a Dramatic Association which had been recently organized. He said they were studying Hannah Moore's Sacred Dramas, by which he wished me to understand that every play presented would be strictly moral and usually devotional. Later he asked me to sing solos between the opening Farce and the play of the evening. This, for lack of confidence, I blankly refused to do. I have always regretted this, for I learned afterwards that at the time the organization was effected, the members promised to do whatever the manager required, and also I feel that the confidence I should thus have gained would have been a benefit to me in after life, as I have always had a great dread of coming before the public. The members of the Dramatic Association were nearly all members of the Choir.

A Bro. Samuel Jewkes, a member of the choir, who had a very good voice, asked me to sing with him and his sister one evening, which I did. I also took part in a farce as Lady Scraggs, in "Sketches in India." During the rehearsals the ladies would crochet or knit while others rehearsed, thus occupying every moment of their Pioneer evenings. My association with this organization afforded me a little change in a social way.

In the latter part of the Fall, my brother-in-law asked me to come and live with him and his wife and help her. This I was perfectly willing to do, taking this view, that as I was young and empty handed and that if I lived, and he lived, he would have a great deal to do for me so that in turn I should be willing to do all that I could for him and his family. So I went and took the burden of the house upon me, for my sister-in-law had Barbara, a little girl of two years old, and Winnie, a baby in arms, and her time was almost entirely occupied in caring for them.

Two young men named John and Evan Owens, boarded with us. I attended night school that winter taught by an English brother named Martin Black, a very refined and intelligent man. There were also quite a number of social parties held in the homes of the people. At these I was generally asked to sing. There were no pianos or organs and our musical entertainments were altogether vocal. The Dramatic Association also afforded us a great deal of enjoyment but this organization was broken up by Bro. Holms leaving the settlement.

One evening during the winter of 1855-6 I was outside the house sawing wood (perhaps my brother-in-law was away building). It was twilight, and as I rested for a moment to regain my breath, a vision seemed to come before me showing how dark my future life would be. Not in detail were the events shown to me, but the general impression was a future of suffering and woe.

 

TWENTY YEARS OLD

I was twenty years old and in the forty eight years that have elapsed since that winter evening I have never seen a darker hour.

I considered the covenant I had made with my husband on his death bed. I knew that Elias was worthy of all the confidence and love that his brother had reposed in him, and I knew that I was all that my departed husband had in the world to look to his interest in the world to come and his eternal increase. God knows that I believed and had accepted the principle that His law required of me. I took a mind's eye view of the other brothers. One was older than Elias and two were younger. The youngest, Hugh, had sent word from California that it was his right to have me. There were also two Apostles, to either of whom I might have been married, but could I have taken either of these and kept my conscience perfectly clear before God? Did either of these excel Elias in point of honor, virtue and integrity? Could either of these take the interest in my departed husband that his brother Elias did? Had either of them, except Elias, been asked to perform this sacred duty, though all had known and loved my husband? Was I willing to endure whatever might befall me in this straight and narrow path I had chosen? Yes, I had already counted the cost, had already tasted the bitter cup which I had agreed to drink the dregs.

 

A PECULIAR SITUATION

A few months after my husband's death I chanced, one day, to meet his brother Elias, who told me that he and his wife were invited to a wedding to which he would have like to have taken me, but as the invitation was for only one couple he could not do so.

In the Spring he invited me to attend a party with him and his wife, and told me that at a certain time he would call for me. Being ready in good time and having an opportunity to go with a friend I left before he arrived. Perhaps this was unwise, also unkind to him, as opportunities for showing me any regard were very meager. My motive, however, was principally to save his wife's feelings, and also perhaps, I was prompted by my own natural independence.

In the Spring following the winter that I lived with Elias and his wife, William P. Jones, the husband of your Aunt Barbara Morris Jones, came home from his Las Vegas mission, and with him came a Brother ____________, who had formerly been a drill master in Her Majesty's Army in India. I was told that this gentleman had formed an attachment for me before he saw me, from what he had heard of me. He was a man of refinement, as may be supposed, having occupied such a position, was fine looking, of good address, well-acquainted with horsemanship, a very good singer and devout and sincere in the religion he had espoused. I have no idea how he began to come to the house, but he came frequently and took a great deal of pleasure in teaching my brother-in-law sword exercises. He would come also on Sunday evenings and sing for us and afterwards we would all sing together.

 

A FRIENDLY ADMONITION

When this had continued for some time, a friend of the family who understood my position and sympathized with me, drew me aside one evening and in a very kind manner told me that if I intended to be true to Elias and the covenant I had made, I had better not allow my affections to turn in a channel where I might be led to break my sacred vows. This friend was unmarried and ten years my senior, and he felt that there was danger of my being led in a direction opposed to that of duty, and I must admit that it was me and my God and stirling principle for the battle.

 

A CALL OF DUTY

Some time afterwards, on a Sunday evening, my brother-in-law asked me to come and sit down at the family hearth, as he wanted to talk about something. Of course I knew upon what subject he wished to converse and sensed my position keenly. It was very embarrassing for all concerned, as there was a third person present, whichever way we might take it, and all had an equal right to be present as all were equally concerned. In honor of the Principle, obedience to which had created the necessity of our coming together as a family, we were obliged to meet in order to discuss the preliminaries which should cause us to enter into a relationship which would place us in a more trying but more exalted position. For how can gold be cleansed from dross except it be placed in the crucible? Imagine how hard it was for a girl, not twenty years old, to be asked if she intended to be true to one of the three persons present, and that in the interest of a fourth person, and he departed this life? And yet how very hard also for the lady who was the third to the two contracting parties, in this particular case? And how hard for this man of God, this loving brother, to take another's wife into his care and to all present appearances break up the happiness of his married life? Nothing but the love he bore his brother and the covenants he had made at the water's edge could have induced him to climb the rugged path, upon which alone now he could ask the Heavenly Father's blessing. And in view of all these circumstances, how very much easier for this girl widow to renounce the sacred covenant she had made with her husband's brother, at the death bed of the former, than to be true to what the law of God required and to the life-long contract she had made? No one was to blame for the circumstances which surrounded us, but this was one of the ordeals we had to meet, as all have their fiery trials to pass through who set their faces like steel to serve God to the end. There was only one answer that I could make to this solemn and weighty question, and that was that I intended to keep my covenant. The time now approached for our marriage, according to the date set by President Young a year previous. There was much laborious work to be done to prepare for a journey to Salt Lake City where we were to receive our Endowments in the House of the Lord. We travelled by ox-team and were two weeks upon the road. It was in the month of May 1856. Our company consisted of five persons, viz., Elias and his wife and their two children and myself. Upon our arrival we stayed at the home of our brother-in-law, Richard V. Morris, which was situated near the City Hall, and often during the time that we stayed there I went outside that historic structure and prayed that my deceased husband would come in person and tell me if he really did require me to drink this bitter cup. He came not. I was again left alone, I and my Heavenly Father, for the battle. I talked with my beloved and only sister about the matter. She suggested that perhaps my husband wanted to prove me and know what I should do while standing alone in this dark world. Now, as I look upon things, I think that my Heavenly Father wished to prove how I should stand the trying ordeal. If I had wished to forsake my husband I should have done so while he was in this life, and could have chosen another helpmeet, and I had the power, for I knew that he was not in the best of health. But it was not in my nature to desert an afflicted person. No, and now my duty was clear, I would lay my life's happiness upon the altar of the requirements of the will of God, and trust in him for the future. There was no one to take me by the hand and give me a word of encouragement at that critical moment, or at least no one did so. All had their trials.

 

THE CONSUMMATION

So I kneeled on the altar in God's Holy House with the deepest dread in my heart that I had ever known. No physical strength could have drawn me there, had I consulted my own feelings. But God required it. I sensed keenly that it was not my happiness alone that was sacrificed, but it was marring the happiness of others, which rendered the cup doubly bitter. I knew that nothing I could do would remove the sting that comes to the heart of a first wife when her husband enters into the order of Plural Marriage. I had been so conscious of the suffering she must of necessity pass through, that during the time that I had been living with my sister-in-law, I felt that no service was too menial, or labor too great, to serve her, and so strong was my sympathy for her that I felt willing to forego almost everything, except honor, for her sake. There was only one way to relieve the situation and that was to recant, and this I could not, I dared not, do. I would rather have died than have shrunk from my duty. If God is angry with me, I can only leave myself to His Mercy. My motives were as pure as those of an angel. On our return to Cedar City, we arrived about mid-day and Mother had prepared an excellent repast, set out on a long table. I could not imagine what it was for. It had no charm for me, my heart was too sad in contemplating the future. After many, many long years, however, I have come to the conclusion that our dear mother intended it as a wedding feast. A room had been prepared for my use, as comfortably furnished as circumstances would allow, but it was needed as a kitchen for the use of the family, and as I was doing the housework I used it as such. My own nice furniture, which had come from my home in Salt Lake City, had been placed in the sitting room previously, and there I left it, so that by permitting my room to be used as a kitchen, I deprived myself of any privacy, except I retired into the sitting room after the family had gone to bed. In this year, 1856, the Handcart Company came in, and a Relief Society was organized for their help, I being called to work in it. The following summer the United States troops entered the Valley and after the 24th of July I went to Salt Lake City to visit my sister. It seemed as if a merciful Providence had provided a season of happiness for me at this particular time, and I thoroughly appreciated it. My dear sister and I had been separated so much that it seemed to take a month for us to get time to say all that we wished. The next summer, 1858, the soldiers entered the city and the people moved south. I also returned to Iron County that Fall in company with our friend, Job Rowlands. On my journey home I read "Uncle Tom's Cabin". My heart was full of sadness and dread for the future, and as I approached the town I was reading a pathetic part of the story that referred to little Eva, and this, coupled with my own sorrow, caused me to weep most of the time. Upon my return I met all that I had anticipated, and asked my Heavenly Father that I might die. One night I dreamed that I was dying and felt as if nature were dissolving. I had been making molasses during the day, using pitch pine as fuel, the smoke therefrom being so blackening that my underwear had become soiled. In my dream I remembered this and could not bear the thought of being found in this condition, so aroused myself, and found it was only a dream. Another time, I thought that I was in the spirit world and meeting my husband, he looked sadly at me and in spirit, (for we conversed in spirit) he asked me what I had come there for? I told him that I was unhappy and wanted to come to him. I took this as a rebuke, realizing that God knows better what is good for us than we do. I was not going to parties that winter, but took great pleasure in preparing lunch for your father and auntie when they came home for intermission; also in caring for the children while they were away. On one of these occasions, your father told me that he had come home to hear me sing. He also brought me a book of songs by one of Zion's sweet singers, Brother William Willis, who had come down south to sell his books. Bro. Willis was one of the first members of the Sunday School Union Board.

 

THE FIRST RAILROAD TRAIN ENTERS SALT LAKE CITY

On the 10^th of January, 1870, tFhe first railroad from Ogden to Salt Lake City was completed. I saw the last spike driven in the line which brought the first train to Utah's capital. President Brigham Young drove the spike and Joseph A. Young made the speech. It was welcomed by a great celebration. At night we stood upon the steps of the theatre to witness the great display of fireworks in honor of the occasion. One piece was General George Washington on horseback. This created quite a sensation in those early days. Effie was then ten years old, having been but six when her father went away.

Soon after your father's return from his mission he took a trip into Iron County with the intention of locating there again, and was received with open arms by his friends, but being advised to remain in Salt Lake City, he came back and after a while obtained employment as Engrossing Clerk to the Legislative Assembly, there being nothing doing in his trade during the winter.

The trip occupied a couple of months, during which time he would, had he been at home, have made provision for the cold weather, but under the circumstances we found ourselves poorly provided with fuel, having almost nothing but the tan bark collected by the little girls. Upon on occasion I remember being unable to obtain sufficient heat to make the potatoes boil, but when the usual supper hour arrived, was surprised to find the potatoes perfectly cooked, although they had not boiled, so I thanked kind Providence for this, as for other blessings received from time to time.

My knowledge of millinery work was a great help to me during the following Spring, for a mason's work does not open up early, although by the middle of March your father had begun building an addition to the largest hotel in town, the Townsend House. Often we could not get butter for our bread, but I felt more sympathy for Auntie's family than for ourselves, as she was sick. I was glad to take whatever I could get for my work such as dried fruit, fish or even flour. I remember taking a few hats to the Ward Store for which I was to receive thirty-five cents, and buying something to eat with the money. I know the last five cents was spent for butter! You younger children do not know how good food tastes when you have been deprived of it.

As the Spring opened up however, I was able to save a little money and finally, by borrowing five dollars upon a piece of velvet I had by me, had enough to send to England for a sewing machine. It was called the "Little Wanzer". Your father had brought one with him for the combined use of his two families, but I thought I would get one for my exclusive use while trade was brisker than it might be after the Fourth of July. I bought dresses for Effie and Addie and shoes also I think, and proud was I to see my two little daughters neatly dressed by my own earnings. The dresses were dark blue delaine with small pink roses on them, and being a milliner their hats were easily arranged for. I also made a hat for your father of fine rice straw, which he wore for best. Your brother Johnnie when he was six months old, I made a turban with a round brim, of fine white rice straw trimmed with blue plush with rosettes to match.

 

BIRTH OF NEPHI

In May of this year I discontinued my very pleasant associations with the Ward Choir and on October 2^nd, 1870 my son Nephi was born, about two o'clock in the morning. He was a welcome guest and was received with a thankful heart. When, a month later, I took him to the Fast Meeting his father blessed him, to be mighty in Truth, like Nephi of old. Before he was many months old I had a gathered breast and before this had healed the other breast gathered also, causing me much suffering. While the first one was so bad I did my work as usual and made a little dress for Addie to wear at a party. Sister Eccles, who was herself an industrious woman, remarked; "I don't see how you manage to do it all under the circumstances."

When he was four months old I took him in my arms and visited my block in the capacity of a Relief Society Teacher. A little later a slight eruption appeared upon his head which gave me great uneasiness, so I took him to Bro. C.R. Savage, the photographer, to have his picture taken, fearing that he might die. Bro. Savage spoke sharply to me telling me that the eruption was nothing and was a good thing for the child, but I had not recovered from the shock of the horrible death of my last little child and the least thing made me nervous. Before he was a year old he became seriously ill with summer complaint, so much so that at one time I listened to hear if he still breathed. The night the desease assumed its most dangerous symptoms was the night that your grandfather Morris lay dead at his home in the Sixth Ward. Thinking I might get some consolation, about midnight I took him in my arms and carried him to where your father was watching by the remains of HIS father, but I carried my baby back home again, without consolation, and so the night wore on. The following morning your Uncle Richard came over, in a very kind manner, to see us and suggested some simple remedy. In those days for summer complaint we would burn a corn cob and make tea from the ashes. Sister Eccles also came over and begged me above all not to become discouraged for the same of the child, so for his dear sake I tried to be brave and after a time was thankful to see signs of restoration to health. This illness occurred soon after we had moved into a little new two roomed house which your father had build for us in the lucern patch.

 

VALUE OF A BUCKET OF WATER

A little incident happened just about this time which is worthy of being mentioned. Your Aunt Nancy's little daughter Catherine Vaughan, was very seriously ill, so your father and I went over one night to relieve them by sitting up with the sick child. It had been my custom to bring in a bucket of water every evening in case it might be needed during the night. Upon this occasion we left Effie with the baby, in my bed room and Addie, with Addie Ridges, who was staying with us, upon a lounge in the kitchen.

The carpenter, in finishing the kitchen, to make it more complete had put a small cupboard in the fireplace to hold the stove furniture, also a large cupboard upon either side, These, with the mantel being of wood, the whole side of the room practically was of that material, even the top of the little cupboard, upon which , unknown to us, during the evening, some soot had fallen and was smouldering, and during the night broke into a blaze, burning the cupboard and part of the mantel and would soon have reached the other woodwork but for the presence of mind of our little Effie, then about eleven years old. Addie, and Addie Ridges were paralyzed almost, with fear, but Effie coolly took up the water PROVIDED and extinguished the flames, and so the children were saved.

A few days later little Katie Vaughn, your cousin, went to a brighter and better home.

The following spring your father added three more rooms to this house and in the following May we moved into these, renting the first two and adding a pantry to our side.

 

BIRTH OF RAY GODWIN

On June 20^th, 1872 another little son came to bless our home. We called him Ray Godwin and he was as fair and amiable as one could desire. It has been said that he was too fair and good for this world, but I think many have lived as fair and pure as he was. Patient, even when imposed upon, I can see him now sitting, all too long, in his high chair, while I prepared supper for our two boarders who lived with us the following winter. Their names were Ed and Will Durnford, and they were doing work upon the Germania Smelting Company's plant which your father was building. Their home was in the eastern part of town but they boarded with us, having to go to work each day upon the train which passed our house. They were nice pleasant young men and we enjoyed their society. Cousin Isaac, then an orphan and about 12 years old, was also added to my family a little later.

The two rooms of which this house at first consisted were built from material that had been formerly used in the Overland Stage Office. After the advent of the railway this building was pulled down and your father engaged to erect another building upon its site so he bargained for the old material for his own use, hence the two large cupboards which had glass doors, in the kitchen where the fire took place. While these rooms were neither modern nor elegant they were nice and comfortable for those days, especially when a front and back porch were added.

The summer that little Ray was born your father built a handsome new house for Auntie's family. I was told that the paper upon the walls was the most costly in the city. After it was finished your father invited some friends to come to his home after meeting, and as the friends were dear to me also asked me to come over and join them. As I stood upon the threshold of this elegant parlor I asked myself the question, "Shall I enter here and have my feelings hurt?", but these friends being related to me in marriage and knowing that I had a warm place in their hearts, I said, "Yes, I will enter." But I wished that I had not done so as I sat near the door beholding so many things that would have wounded a nature even less sensitive than my own, as I sat there like a stranger.

The following February, when little Ray was seven months old, your father was taken seriously ill and with little Ray in my arms I went over to see him on my way to meeting. While in meeting I felt impressed that trouble was ahead of us and in spite of every effort could not keep back my tears while the meeting was progressing, feeling all the time that your father was going to die.

A few days later I again felt the presence of death so vividly that I could not shake off the presentiment. The baby too was quite sick, and I had taken  him to our dear friend Sister Esther La Baron, who pronounced the trouble which he seemed to have in his groin, as canker. She knew a great deal about sickness and many remedies, but was opposed to doctors, saying that she wanted no more children killed by them. I had often seen babies sore in those parts during teething and had known of many obstinate cases where, when the trouble with a particular tooth was removed, the soreness had healed by itself. Auntie's little son Earnie, during teething, had been troubled with an eruption upon his head which the doctor had succeeded in healing, only to have it break out in another place, so I could not see that any good had been done by his attendance.

 

DEATH OF LITTLE RAY

But had I realized that it was the canker that ailed my baby and known at the time the seriousness of this dread disease, which like a snake may attack the vitals before we are aware of its presence, I should have been aware of the danger and might have taken more precaution , perhaps. And so our treasured one passed away on the 20^th of February, 1873. The snow was so deep at the time that we did not step out of the carriage. It was a great shock to me as I had not realized the gravity of his condition. In order to bridge over my grief a little, dear Aunt Aggie too me home with her for a few days. Little Ernest was so bad that night that we did not know how it would go with him. Here are some poems I wrote some time later, in memory of our darling.

 

POEM TO LITTLE RAY

LITTLE RAY

Son of Elias and Mary Lois Morris, Born June 20^th, 1872

                Died February 20^th, 1873

 

Thou art gone far away to thy beautiful rest

                We cannot behold thee again,

Thine own precious image we may not caress

                In this world of sorrow and pain

We fain would retain thee, it 'twere Heaven's will

                That thou shouldst remain with us here.

But the Father hath called thee, a mission to fill

                In yonder bright Heavenly sphere.

 

We cannot recall thee, nor ask thee to stay.

                Thy sufferings are grevious to bear.

While angels are waiting to take thee away

                Where all is most lovely and fair.

Thy hand is outstretched to receive the last kiss

                Thy mother doth fondly bestow

Thine eyes glancing round, on thy father to gaze,

                For death, now, creeps over thy brow.

 

Thine eyeballs grow weary, thy patience unchanged

                Thy sufferings no tongue can describe

(The heart-strings are subject to piteous pains

                Where death has the power to divide.)

Thy breath draweth shorter, thy life's ebbing fast

                Thine eyelids now closing in rest.

Thy woes are all ended, thy tortures are passed,

                Thy spirit is now with the blest.

 

POEM: THE VACANT CHAIR

 

                                THE VACANT CHAIR

                The vacant chair, that hallowed spot

                Where sat my cherub bright; -

                His limbs were round, his eyes were blue,

                His brow was spotless white.

 

                His gentle ways, his happy smile,

                His patience seldom met,

                For even when imposed upon

                He was contented yet.

 

                The golden glint upon his hair,

                His soft and loving touch

                There's nought to me that can compare

                And nothing else is such.

 

                Wilt thou not take a word of love

                To dear ones, gone from earth

                From parents who, though now bereft,

                Were honored by thy birth"

 

                Go, Angle, Lamb, and stay thee there

                In those fair realms of light

                While we, for lasting peace prepare

                In this dark land of blight.

 

 

                                TO LITTLE RAY

                                June 20^th, 1873

 

                A ray of rosy sunlight

                                That gladdened all my heart

                Alas, too soon, it perished

                                And left a stinging smart.

 

                "Tis the birthday of my cherub

                                And  he has passed away; -

                How sharp the pang that pierces

                                My heart, this livelong day!

 

                But the rosebud fair will blossom

                                On a brighter, happier shore

                And there we may caress him,

                                Where parting is no more.

 

                The ways of God are perfect

                                The "why" not always clear

                But resting in his perfect love

                                The end we need not fear.

 

I will turn back a year or two in order to relate an incident, which in view of subsequent events became important in the history of our family.

In the Fall of 1871 Edward Ashton, one of the early members of the 15^th Ward and a man highly respected in the community, came, bringing his eldest son, Edward T. Ashton, to your father in order to apprentice him to the firm of Morris & Evans to learn the building trade. When the preliminary arrangements had been completed Bro. Ashton jocosely remarked that perhaps when his son had finished his period of apprenticeship he might wish to continue the association by marrying one of Elias Morris's daughters.

The Spring following the death of little Ray, Sister Maria Burton was very sick with canker, and having her son Willie's dear little motherless babe to tend was badly in need of help. Your father wanted Effie to go and render her what assistance she could, especially as Bro. Burton was just preparing to go on a mission and there was much to be done. Sister Burton was a good housekeeper but our little girl, although only fifteen years of age, was able to give her such good satisfaction that when she was leaving and Sister Burton was settling up with her, she remarked, "You have done the work of a woman and you shall have the pay of a woman". Effie was always energetic and the year previous to this, when we had little Ray, although only fourteen years old, she would do the week's washing and then ask if she might go up to Aunt Aggie's. This summer, I remember, she wore a simple, though tastefully made buff  suit with a sailor hat with blue gauze streamers fastened with a bunch of daisies. This hat was becoming to her face with her large blue eyes and wealth of golden hair. The following winter she went to school. About Christmas time Sister Sarah M. Kimball, president of  our Relief  Society, offered a prize of a gold ring for the best essay on the Birth of Christ. Sister Kimball remarked that if her daughter Lizzie would read it, she would write an essay for her upon this subject. I concluded that if it was right for Sister Kimball to indite the paper for her daughter, it was perfectly proper for me to do so for mine, knowing that with her retiring nature, Effie would deserve the ring if she could get sufficient courage to read the essay. So I carefully read over the story as contained in the Gospels and one morning I arose early and taking my paper in hand, asked for Divine guidance upon my labor. Sister Kimball had charge of the affair which was to be held on Christmas Day. The meeting house was darkened and candles burning upon a large Xmas tree gave a subdued but beautiful illumination. Bishop Edward Hunter, of the Presiding Bishopric was the guest of honor and Mrs. Belle Guthrie and Bro. T. C. Griggs the adjudicating committee, with one other. Effie wore a very plain, neatly fitting black and blue plaid dress with a pink ribbon. One of the girls who was competing was a rather pompous person and dressed accordingly, and as Effie passed her she seemed to feel an influence come from her, which might have been expressed in these words; - "You need not think that a poor little thing like you can get the prize". This added to poor little Effie's nervousness and lifting up her heart to God she asked him to cause that the one who deserved the prize might get it. This simple earnest prayer could not fail to ascend to the place to which it was wafted by a sincere heart. I suppose too, that Effie read the little essay in a spirit of humility, trusting in God alone. In any case, it proved satisfactory to the adjudicators and she received the ring. This added to the enjoyment of our Xmas repast, to which we had invited Mrs. Lulu Green Richards, Editor of the Woman's Exponent and her husband Elder Levi W. Richards, fellow missionary to your father, to Great Britain, your dear Aunt Aggie and Aunt Kesiah Pratt were also our guests upon this occasion. One of the dishes we had for dinner was dressed ducks. Your father said something about the bones, and Bro. Richards rather humorously remarked that he supposed they were made to hold the meat that was on them.

Sister Richards made a complimentary notice of our little dinner in her paper, and later Bishop Hunter asked for a copy of the essay that Effie had read and a synopsis of it was published in the Exponent. My father, who was then residing in De Kalb, Ill. saw a notice in a paper with regard to it and was much pleased and sent Effie a beautiful book mark in black and white silk with a design representing Our Saviour blessing the Cup.

Effie, by this time, was able to make her own clothes and showed much ability in this direction. Upon one occasion I gave her a pair of dotted swiss curtains, with which she made a pretty polonaise, which worn over a blue skirt had a good effect. She also made a pale green chambray, which was very becoming to her, but one which I think I liked the best was a white dress with a soft gilt leather belt which corresponded with her hair. At that time young girls wore what was called a Grecian braid. The hair was combed to the back of the head where a braid as broad as the hand was made, tapering of course naturally to the end, where it was tied with a bow of ribbon, or, as Effie did, with ties made of some inexpensive material. Some of the girls had such beautiful hair that their braid would reach half way down their skirts.

Speaking of Christmas just now reminds me that a few days before Christmas in 1872, I think, your father took one of his best teams and one of his men and canvassed the ward, asking for provisions, etc. to make Christmas happy for some of the less favored brethren and sisters. This was the beginning of the custom of the Bishop's collections at Christmas time which has now become general. It would take a man with a generous heart, like your father, to concoct such a plan.

Our home by this time was quite comfortable. The two rooms that I had previously rented becoming vacant, your father told me to go to Brother Evans and he would attend to the matter of furnishing the little parlor for our use. The carpet, which your father helped me to select, was a handsome ingrain with shades of brown and orange with a white thread for relief; also a rug to match. Then we had a large round table and can seated chairs and a rocker. For the table I had a beautiful green damask cover which your father had brought from England some four years previously. This cloth is handsome today after the wear and tear of thirty years. A fire-place was built under the mantel-piece to which I referred in speaking of the fire and this gave the room a cheery appearance. The window was small but looked well for those days.

 

BIRTH OF GEORGE Q.

I remember the night of the 19^th of February, 1874 as distinctly as if it were last night. Effie, Addie and I were seated comfortably in our front room and I was directing Effie in making a school dress. I was not feeling very well and retired early leaving her at work. The next morning about 11:20 another precious son was born to us. The morning was cold and a heavy snow had fallen during the night, drifting so that it was higher than the front porch, and the little snow birds came to the window looking for food and leaving the marks of their tiny feet upon the snow. But within the happy mother and her darling  baby lay cozy and warm.

We named him George Q. in honor of our highly esteemed apostle George Q. Cannon. His hair was yellow, his skin fair, and his eyes of a hazel color. When he was about three weeks old he had jaundice, and a week later, a gathered finger which affected the tiny finger nail, leaving a mark which remains to this day. At two months he contracted a severe cold which turned to pneumonia. Alarming symptoms set in and Sister Pierpont, a neighbor, assisted me in putting him through a course of Lobelia. While under the influence of this treatment we thought he was going to die, so your father, in administering to him, ordained him to the High Priesthood. When he recovered from the affects of the lobelia, however, he seemed better, but I took him out of the kitchen and remained in the bedroom with him and did not attempt to do anything but take care of him. Your father stayed with me while he was so ill and your Aunt Aggie, Sister Richards and Aunt Hannah Morris all helped by sitting up at night.

The night Aunt Aggie sat up with me she asked me what I thought of him? I told her that I thought he would recover. One afternoon our dear president, Sister Sarah M. Kimball called and taking him upon her lap, she remarked; "It is no matter now, but if you ever have a case like this again, put a wet cloth over his chest with a flannel one over that." On her way home she called on her mutual friend, Sister Le Baron, and said, "I think in the morning you will send me word that he has gone home." He used to like me to sing to him and it seemed to comfort him. One night I sat up all night with him in my arms, singing at intervals, and your father good humoredly remarked that it was a good as a concert to be here. But the Lord was gracious to us and spared this precious babe to prove a blessing in later years.

 

DEATH OF GRANDFATHER WALKER

Your Grandfather Walker and his wife had moved some time previous to this, to De Kalb, Illinois, where his wife had died and Aunt Aggie, hearing that his health was failing him, sent for him to come and live with her in her home in Sugar House Ward in order that she might care for him to the end, but when he arrived, your cousin Aggie being very ill, your father and I met him at the depot with a conveyance and brought him to our home where he stayed for several weeks. I remember how delicious the children found the remains of his lunch, in spite of the fact that it had been brought hundreds of miles over the railroad. He was interested in the children and would amuse little George, then about nine months old. One day he remarked, with regard to Addie; then about thirteen years of age; - "There is a great deal of the executive about that child".

In the beginning of this Sketch of  My Life, my dear children, I gave a brief account of my father's conversion to the truth of the Gospel and of his faithful labors in the missionary field. At that time he was full of the Spirit of the Gospel and the blessing of the Lord followed his efforts wherever he went. After the death of our dear mother he returned to England where he again engaged in missionary work. At the time he left we were living in St. Louis. I married soon afterwards and came on to the Valley with my husband and his parents. It was four years before my father returned, and during this time I had buried your Uncle John, and at the latter's request; - and in strict accordance with the command of God to both ancient and modern Israel, I had married my husband's elder brother namely, your father.

In the meantime, my father had married a Miss Mary Ann Morton, whose acquaintance he had made in Great Britain during his missionary labors previous to our emigration. This lady was of a refined nature and very devotional. She was the authoress of several hymns which are to be found in the Latter Day Saint's Hymn Book, above her signature.

It was during a visit to your Aunt Aggie, that I first met Mrs. Walker and I treated her with all the respect due my father's wife. I also stayed at their home a few days later, while I made a suit of Temple clothes by hand, for your Uncle Charles.

Now, Mrs. Walker, though a very devout person, and believed firmly in the Bible, did not seem to understand that God must have a channel through which to communicate to His people. It was during one of the nights of this few days of my stay with them, that I tried to convince Mrs. Walker of the necessity of the Holy Priesthood. During this interview she told me that she received Mormonism and Spiritualism at the same time! (No wonder that they did not assimilate very well!) I continued to labor with her, but in the morning she was of the same opinion.

About two years later, during another visit to your Grandfather's home one Sunday afternoon, he read to me from a periodical called "The True Latter-Day Saint's Herald" It was a vile sheet and very much like the Salt Lake Tribune in spirit. I listened to him very attentively until he had finished. He then paused for a moment as if for comment. After a little reflection, I said to him, - "Father, I am your child, and but a child compared to you, yet I can see that if you continue to read that paper, you will apostatize". He made no reply verbally, but I could read his answer in the influence that came from him, as plainly as if it had been written upon his face, and it was this; - "It makes no difference if I do."

I think it was during this visit that he gave me my choice of one of three Daguerriotype likenesses of himself, and the one I chose I have to this day.

After our return to Salt Lake City from Iron County, he used often to call to see us, but seemed to have a fault-finding spirit. On one occasion he was returning from his High Priest's Quorum meeting and he sneered at the singing of the President of the Quorum. At another time, in conversation with reference to the building of the Salt Lake Theatre, he asked; - "Why build a theatre, why not build the Temple and do work for the dead?"

Your Grandfather was of course aged by this time and perhaps did not realize as well as he might have done when he was younger, that working men need some wholesome recreation. And besides, it was not my father's place to attempt to steady the Ark!

At another time when I called upon him and reference was made with regard to the settling of Dixie, as St George was then termed, and I happened to state that the climate was improving, he replied that he did not believe it. I assured him that it was so however. This was after your Uncle Charles  had moved down there.

During the time that we were living in St. Louis, Mo. we made the acquaintance of a man by the name of Joseph Morris, who was a member of the St. Louis branch of the church. This man Morris was very good looking, but decidedly soft, in my opinion and you will agree with me when I tell you a little incident with regard to him.

One day he called, and in conversation with my father, told him that he had received a letter from a young lady who had made love to him. The epistle was signed Caroline Parthing, and she gave her address. I remember an extract from the letter as follows; - "Come to me, dearest, I am lonely without thee; Daytime and night time I'm thinking about thee." At the same time he told my father that he did not get along with his wife very well! The burden of his errand was to get into communication with the young lady, and he seemed to think that your grandfather could help him, so it was agreed that I should call at the address and see her. I was only fifteen years old and did not relish the job at all, but would not think of disobeying my father, so I found the young lady but she knew nothing about the affair, so we concluded that someone had been making a fool of Mr. Joseph Morris.

You may well ask; - "What has this to do with your Grandfather's apostacy?" but you will see presently. It was said that this man Morris was twice cut off the Church for committing adultery.

Notwithstanding this he found his way to the Valley, and started up a new sect, if you please. He had a facinating manner, but did not have brains enough to carry on any great scheme, but was assisted by a man of the name of John Banks, who was a man of great intelligence and who had presided over the London Conference at the time that your Grandfather was traveling in that district.

There was also another man named Richard Cook who was very prominent in the Manchester Conference at the time that Banks was in London. Both these men joined the Morrisites, as they were called, and I think I helped Morris found his new sect.

My heart aches as I recall the names of these men whom we had so loved and esteemed, but who were now treading the downward path, and I feel like saying with David of old; - "How are the mighty fallen!".

These new religionists once held a meeting in my father's home here in Salt Lake. Your grandfather Morris, whose house was next to your grandfather Walker's concluded to stand outside and listen to what they had to say. This is the doctrine that one of its members had to advance. Speaking on the principle of plural marriage, he said,- "I will not believe it, no, not if an angel from heaven should teach it to me." As a number of members of their sect were in this order of marriage, it made them appear very small and unprincipled to adopt a religion which caused them to break their covenants with their wives who were the mothers of their children.

These people took up their quarters in Weber County , Utah, and I think your grandfather was the only one who did not move up there.

Your father had asked me to question your grandfather at some time when he called, with regard to the doctrines of this new sect. It was your grandfather's custom to come to our house upon his return from meetings at the headquarters of these people, so I thought one day that I would talk to him upon the subject. I had put some milk down to heat near the coals on the hearth (we had no stove in those days) knowing him to be very fond of it. While the milk was heating I ventured to put the question your father had suggested. Instantly he became very angry, and replied.- "Do you think I do not know the difference between a gas light and a rush light?", and picking up his hat he left the house and the comfortable lunch I was preparing for him.

Another day, I had occasion to call upon him on a little matter of business which was to his interest, when he took a paper from his pocket and read it to me. The article was purported to be a revelation received by Joseph Morris, and was to the effect that spirits who were destined to earth were ordained to a certain priesthood before taking upon themselves tabernacles of flesh. I listened attentively while he was reading and upon his looking up at me for an answer, I simply said, in a very calm tone of voice, that it might be true, or not, but it was of no importance to us.

Time went on apace, and he opened a little school in his own house and his teaching gave so much satisfaction to the parents that he was asked to take charge of the Ward school. However, before the matter was consummated someone remembered that he was an apostate and on this account not eligible to the position. When he was told this it so hurt his feelings that he concluded to leave the country. At this time the Civil War was in progress.

So he and his wife commenced to make preparations for their departure, which seemed a pity since they were quite comfortably situated. While Mrs. Walker was not much of a housekeeper, she was very clever at her trade, that of a straw braider. She did beautiful work for gentlemen's hats as well as for ladies hats and bonnets. For this it was necessary that she should keep her hands soft and smooth, but your grandfather, having been the eldest of a large family, had been taught the art of housekeeping. So, by united effort they could make each other very comfortable. Your Uncle Charles also made his home with them, adding his portion towards the support of the home. In this way they were independent, I think, although your grandfather must have been quite seventy years old and Mrs. Walker seemed just about the same age.

Your Aunt Aggie and I went to see them before they left and when we departed he accompanied us part of the way home. It was a pleasant evening in the spring, I remember; all was peace and tranquility. As we were walking along together, enjoying the peace and safety with which we were blessed, your grandfather began to talk of his grievances. Among other matters he spoke of the ward school incident, and remarked; - "They who would take my bread would take my life!" I answered, "You belong to a general class of people, like myself, and nobody wants to kill me. Why go to the seat of war to find peace?" He replied; "I wanted to spew, - I have done so." We made no reply, and when he had walked as far as he cared to, he returned and we continued our course homeward, contemplating the influence of one who is possessed of a fault-finding spirit. The manner in which he spoke to us was so different to what we had been accustomed to, for he was a man who dearly loved his children. And, I believe too, that he also regretted his attitude, for the next morning he called early and ate breakfast with me.

After they had been away some time, he wrote to your Aunt Aggie, expressing a good deal of bitterness towards certain persons. Again, he wrote a letter to your sister Effie and enclosing a note for one dollar, suggested that her mother would advise her what she should do with it.

Knowing that he had always loved her so much I thought he would be pleased to have a likeness of her. Accordingly a tin-type picture was taken and sent to him. In the return letter he expressed a dislike for the style of  her hair, although it was quite simple. At that time it was the style for young girls to wear a circle comb and Effie's hair being very abundant we thought it becoming, as the hair rolled from the forehead made a background to her face that many would have appreciated. I suppose he preferred the Quaker style, parted in the middle and combed smoothly at each side.

Some time afterwards he sent me twenty dollars. He was quite frugal in his habits although generous where he saw a person in need. He also believed in having something on hand for a rainy day, and debt was a stranger to him.

Your grandfather and his wife were living in Illinois, but after a while Mrs. Walker died, and hearing that her father was in poor health and her children all being married except Wilford, your Aunt Aggie wrote to him to come and end his days with her, so he again turned his face towards the City of the Saints.

Your father went, I think, three different times to the depot before the delayed train brought him to us. As your Cousin Aggie was very ill at the time, it was agreed that your grandfather should remain with us until your Aunt Aggie was at liberty to take him to her home in Sugar House Ward, which was five miles out of town.

He was somewhat reduced in flesh, his beard long and silken and whitened with the frosts of seventy-seven winters. He had lost that bitter feeling and love had returned to his heart. He spoke very kindly to little George Q. who was then a baby. He also met your father with good fellowship and appreciated the kindness he had shown him.

In due time your Aunt Aggie took him and had the satisfaction of making him comfortable in her quiet peaceful home. When his cough grew worse she would arise during the night and prepare him something warm to comfort and strengthen him. His former loving spirit seemed to return and the family became much attached to him.

Your cousin, Elnathan Eldridge, particularly admired his intelligence, his gift of relating anecdotes and his original style of doing so; also his fund of general knowledge.

During the fine autumn days that followed, he would take long walks, and at such time he would often call upon your cousin Eva and have pleasant chats with her. The following Christmas she got up a party, in his honor, I think and invited us to be present. During the evening he asked me to sing, but little George Q. seemed to sensitive that he would begin to cry as soon as I started to sing, so I concluded to wait until he should go to sleep. I then sang my father's favorite song; - "Woodland Mary".

A little later he was asked to make a few remarks. One of the first things he said was, - "I would walk five miles to hear that child sing". Pointing to me. He spoke of card playing, which he had always shunned; also of the intoxicating cup, to which he had never been addicted; then he added "But if, in the end, Elder Walker is not right?" Little did we think what was revolving in his mind.

Your Aunt Aggie's home was, as you will remember, situated in a clear grassy place, with large windows letting in plenty of light and sunshine. One day, while in conversation with your cousin Lona Eldridge, he told her that he wanted to be where they would be in the future, and added that ever since he had been at your Aunt Aggie's he had been looking for a place where he could be baptized. He then told her that the 11^th day of the coming month of March would be his birthday in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and he added, - "I will be baptized that day, if I die!"

Having formed the above resolution, he one day, when your Aunt Aggie had come up town, sent for Elder Abraham O. Smoot, and made the following statement, in substance; - "I have been away ten years, have come back, and want to be baptized."

I will here remark that although your grandfather was very devotional, there was nothing sanctimonious about him, and being somewhat proud there would be no palaver about his statement although he was quite penitent at heart. I suppose he mentioned the 11^th of March as the date as that was the anniversary of his birth into the Church, so it was agreed that your cousin Moroni Walker Pratt should perform the ordinance of baptism upon that day at the Warm Springs bath-house and Bishop Abraham O. Smoot promised to come over and confirm him. Your Aunt Aggie was to go with him to assist him, since she had been his attendant and nurse during the preceeding four or five months.

So they set out on the day appointed, March 11^th, 1875, although the day was cold and the ground covered with snow. Arrived at the baths, Sister Arnold, who was stationed at the bath-house, did all in her power for his welfare. But the five mile journey to the Warm Springs, added to the fatigue and possible excitement of the ordinance of baptism, seemed too much for him, and while riding in the buggy upon the return journey he became so weak that he was unable to sit up, so Moroni held him up while Aunt Aggie drove the team.

Upon reaching home he was put to bed as quickly as possible with hot water bottled placed at his feet. He continued to complain of coldness in the extremities, and becoming alarmed at his condition your Aunt Aggie sent for Bro. Preston Free, a neighbor, to come and administer to him, but it was found that your grandfather had departed this life.

Bishop Smoot, who had promised to come and confirm him had been called to guard President Brigham Young, who was a prisoner in his own house, and had, on that account, been prevented from keeping his promise.

That day, I and my family, at your father's request, had moved from the cottage he had built for us, to a much larger house recently vacated by your Auntie. As most of our belongings had been taken over to the house we were soon to occupy, I slept on a couch that night. Now I knew nothing of what was going on at Sugar House Ward, and was not frightened or uneasy, but somehow I could not sleep. Early in the morning, even before I was up, your cousin Moroni came and told us of what had occurred and that he had come, at his mother's request, to consult with your father as to the best mode of procedure in reference to the funeral.

After a few moments reflection your father concluded that it would be best to hold the funeral that day, and from your Aunt Aggie's house where the remains lay. So a little later your father, Effie and I were on our way to Sugar House Ward. When we arrived your Aunt Aggie had all in order, your grandfather's clothes beautifully made and a lovely lunch ready for us after our long cold drive.

Aunt Aggie said that your grandfather had looked miserable after his death, but when dressed in his temple clothes his countenance changed. His brow was smooth, his teeth perfect (for all that I ever knew), his eye-brows dark and well marked, and his venerable beard long, silky and of a snowy whiteness. One might imagine him to be in a sweet peaceful sleep. I could lean on his casket and take solid comfort in looking at him; - whereas, had he not returned to the fold of Christ I do not think he could have rested in his grave.

Your father was asked to take charge of the funeral. Your Aunt Aggie's house being situated near that of President John R. Winder, she and Sister Winder were very intimate, and knowing that your grandfather was not in the best of health Sister Winder came over through the deep snow to inquire after him and just in time for the funeral. Your Aunt Aggie led the singing, I taking the alto part. The first hymn was "Unveil Thy Bosom, Faithful Tomb" (L.D.S. Hymn Book Page 220). Your father, who was the principle speaker, in his remarks said, - "There is no spirit of death here". And such was the case. The spirit of peace and tranquility pervaded the house and the funeral. The same spirit remained with us as we followed the dear remains to the City Cemetery. Some years later your Aunt Aggie and I had what work was needed done for him by a very excellent man Bro. Wm. H. Miles, a brush maker who had emigrated from New York. And so we leave him in the hands of an All Wise Father, who, as the Psalmist says, "Knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are but dust."

When we arrived at our home after the funeral, we found that Addie, then fourteen years old, had, besides tending the baby, laid the dining room carpet and put up the stove in the house into which we were just then moving. This substantiated her grandfather's opinion of her. She was a fine little mother, and when the railroad was built in front of the house would run out to see if the little boys were all right. I believe she would have risked her life to save theirs. She was very fond of dressing her little brothers and taking them out, but evidently thought that boys did not offer sufficient scope for her talent and would remark ruefully, "Say, I wish I could make him into a girl!"

In the Fall of 1876 Nephi was five years old. One day he had two tasks to perform. One was to wash a tubful of small potatoes and the other to pile some wood into the woodshed. By night the potatoes were all washed and the wood piled higher than his head, which we thought a good days work for a little boy of his age. His birthday came on the 2^nd of October and I spent about three hours selecting a suitable book for him. At last one which would suit our purse and yet was fine enough to present to the little boy we loved so well was found, and Effie and I sat up till almost mid-night devouring its contents. It was about eight inches square and upon the cover was a sunny faced little girl in a blue dress and a red hat with a white plume on it. It was called "Little Snow-Flake's Album". On one page was a picture of two little girls praying, and these words followed; - "And as ye would that men should do unto you, do ye so unto them in like circumstances." Upon another page was represented a little girl descending a handsome staircase and holding to the banister. Then followed these verses. "

 

                "This is our baby, our darling

                Coming down the stair,

                Just washed and dressed for the morning,

                Looking so sweet and so fair.

 

                Papa will watch from the landing,

                Mamma will watch down the stairs. 

                Soon we will all have our breakfast,

                But now, fold your hands and say prayers."

 

Another little verse was; -

 

                Dear little children, don't waste the day,

                Always remember that work sweetend play.

 

Upon the fly-leaf I wrote the following lines; -

 

                "Accept this book, my little boy,

                It's lessons treasure well.

                'Twill be to you a source of joy

                When you can read and spell.

 

                Take it, keep it, while you live,

                That when I'm dead and gone

                'Twill tell you of the love I bore

                My darling little son."

 

A little before Christmas father gave Effie and Addie some money to buy some new winter dresses. Effie chose a pretty shade of green and Addie's was red. I worked hard to make the dresses by Christmas day, as the two girls were invited to a party in the evening, and also were beginning to receive attention from their young man friends.

Besides the dresses your father had given Effie and Addie each a pin cushion with a pocket mirror upon one side, and a tablet on the other. Master Nephi, then about five years old, evidently considered them cute also, and took Effie's to school with him, afterwards trading it with one of his little school mates for something else he wanted. When I was made aware of the fact I told him he would have to get it back and return it to it's owner and also ask forgiveness of our Heavenly Father and return fourfold to the owner the amount of the article he had taken. After dark that evening I took him out where there were some tall trees and with the stars looking down at us I talked to him again, and he was impressed, for the first nickel he received, he brought to Effie and continued to do so, until he had paid four times the value of the small article.

Our parlor was a very pleasant room, and with a bright fire in the grate reflecting upon the handsome rug before it made the room appear still more cozy, and when during the afternoon, the girls received their callers, a good feeling prevailed. One of Effie's presents, I remember, which she received during the evening party, was a large orange; a rare treat in those days.

About this time Effie and Addie attended a singing class, conducted by a worthy young man of the ward, named Douglas Swan. This class gave them much enjoyment and on one occasion the members surprised him, taking picnic and spent a very pleasant evening. Addie's cake, on this occasion, was the first she had ever made and was quite a success, being beautifully baked in a rather flaring in, scalloped at the edge and much used thirty years ago.

Another surprise was one which Effie took upon her esteemed friend, Miss Jane Barlow. In opening a new can of yeast powder she had found a recipe for making a cream cake. It was the first we had heard of but she tried it, and was delighted with her experiment, as it stood on the table with the stiffened cream showing between the well baked layers. The happy company of pure young people gathered together at our house first, where the picnic was placed in a large clothes basket. This, with much merriment, they carried with them, Elder Thomas Howells taking one of the handles I remember, while Effie, busy and happy, although not without care and anxiety as to the success of her project, followed in the rear.

During the winter of 1875-6 your sister Effie worked at a tailor's shop. It was conducted by a member of the ward and was a ward enterprise, the employees being also members of the ward. Your father thought it would be a nice place for Effie to learn something of that trade, but we did not know that she would be required to work a No. 2 sewing machine, which was entirely too heavy for her, and indeed positively injurious to her health.

 

She was also such an active member of the ward that almost every evening she was engaged, - Tuesday at Mutual, Wednesday Choir Practice; and Thursday, Sunday School Choir-practice. On Sunday also she took no rest, being anxious to attend Sunday School and evening meeting. 

 

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She soon became thin and nervous and I remember you father's partner and esteemed friend Bro. Sam'l L. Evans saying to her, - "Effie, whatever you do, try to rest at night."  But the poor child was too fatigued to sleep and soon her health became so seriously impaired that she has felt the effects throughout her whole life.

 

THE EXPLOSION OF THE POWDER MAGAZINE

On the 5^th of April, 1876, two boys, one a son of Bro. Archibald Hill and the other a son of Dr. Robinson, were amusing themselves on Arsenal Hill with a gun.  One of them shot at the great powder magazine which was located there.  In an instant it exploded, shaking the earth for miles around like an earthquake and blowing the boys to stone.

That day, having a quantity of good soft rain water, I had washed my linsey sheets previous to putting them away for winter, and was hanging them out on the south side of the house when the explosion occurred.  I thought it was the report of a gun and was indignant that anyone should fire so near the house.  Then came another report followed almost immediately by a third, when the chimney of the house occupied by my neighbor, Mrs. Van, fell down.  At the same time Addie was standing upon the step between the kitchen and pantry, holding little Georgie by the hand.  She felt the shocks, heard the glass in the window smash and the hams, etc. suspended from the ceiling of the storeroom above, come crashing to the floor.  Calling for little Nephi, she exclaimed, "The world is at an end, we shall all go together," and many older persons were of the same opinion.

Your father was in his buggy in the vicinity of Arsenal Hill returning homeward from a trip, and his horse, instead of taking fright, to his great astonishment, stood perfectly still while huge pieces of rock came whizzing past them, but they were unharmed.  A woman, not far distant, however, was killed in a most shocking manner. 

 

BIRTH OF CATHERINE VAUGHAN

On the 10^th of April, five days later, my little Kate was born, and I concluded that my love of cleanliness saved me from injury and my little daughter from premature birth, as the shock received while standing upon the ground outside was not nearly as severe as if I had been inside the house.

Fifteen years had elapsed since a little daughter had been born to me.  When Addie was told by the midwife that her mother had a little baby, she closed her eyes tightly, and remarked, "If it is a boy, I won't look at it!"

Our baby had dark hair and eyebrows and a rosy face, and was as welcome as the flowers in May.  When she was nine days old someone declared she laughed.  Your father went over to Auntie's and told the folks that baby had long curls the next morning after she was born.  As I had thwarted him in naming our daughter Addie I determined to let him have his way about naming this one.  He had almost idolized his maternal grandmother, and wished to have the baby named after her.  At the fast meeting when he took the baby in his arms to bless her, her asked me, very politely, if I had a preference, and upon receiving my assurance that I had none, he named her, after his wish, Catherine Vaughan.

When baby was about three weeks old, Nephi, George, and she contracted measles.  The two others had it in a mild form, but little George had a more severe attack.  Effie continued to work at the tailors shop so Addie and I had to do the house work and attend to the sick children. 

One night George was very sick, my nurse had left me and I was feeling far from strong.  Your father, too, was out of town.  About four o'clock in the morning we were much alarmed and prayed ernestly (sic) to our heavenly Father for help and He again listened to our suplications (sic) and made him better. 

It was a long time, however, before he recovered his health and his sweet disposition, which was one of his chief characteristics.  Addie will remember his periodical crying spells, and he would not stay in bed after he had been put to rest for the night, but we loved him just the same.

Miss Baby continued to thrive and would lie on the pillow and laugh and kick for hours together, making us all very happy.

The following Autumn your father took a contract to build the Great Ontario Silver Mine.  He took a number of workmen with him, among them being Edward T. Ashton and his uncle William Treharne.  He also took his daughters Winnie and Effie to cook for the men, and a man to butcher the beeves and help the girls do the heaviest part of the work.

As Ed and Effie were now keeping company, and both going away so far from home, I requested Effie to have no more association with him than with any other of the men during their stay at the Park, and was gratified to learn that his parents, with the same careful forethought concerning his welfare, had made a similar request of him, or at least instructed his uncle to see that he was in bed by nine o'clock.

Effie was as careful to carry out my wishes as I had been to give them and when Ed, good natured boy that he was, would go into the kitchen and offer to help the girls with the dishes, Effie would leave them to him and Winnie while she went to another table to mix bread.  Winnie, from her youthful point of view, thought this restraint between Ed and Effie was time wasted, but we did not think so.

The night that Effie left to go to the Park, Addie and I felt so lonely that we actually brought our beds down in to the dining room for the first night or two and we watched eagerly for the mail to bring us letters from our loved one.  The little boys, too, were anxious for her return and would send loving messages to her.

Father came home to attend the October Conference and Winnie came in a day or two later, but Effie stayed till the job was finished.  During this time Effie was the only lady in the camp, but there was not a man who would have harmed their little "Red Bird" as they called her, (because she wore a red waist), so she locked herself in her little bed room at night and enjoyed the sweet sleep that hard work and innocence can give.

A little before Christmas she returned home and was joyfully welcomed by us all.

Christmas day she cooked the dinner assisted by Ed Ashton, who seemed very happy to cut wood for her and render any help he could, in spite of the fact that he was not to enjoy the repast, his own parents being desirous of having his dear presence at their family board.  Some time previous to going to the Park, Ed had asked permission to call upon Effie, but at this particular period there was no positive engagement between them so far as we knew.  So he went home to dinner and returned in the evening to take her to a party.  During the evening Ed returned home, and came into the parlor, where Bro. Morris and I were seated, and formally asked for the hand of our dear daughter in marriage.  Her father gave his free consent, having known him intimately for a number of years, and I told him that there was no one whom I preferred.  The time for the marriage was set for the coming spring. 

A pleasant incident occurred on the following New Years Day.  Your father had sent a message asking Ed Ashton to come over to our house.  When he entered the Parlor, after wishing us the compliments of the season, he remarked, - "Bro. Morris, I brought no tools with me, as I did not know what kind of work you wanted me to do."  Your father then presented him with a beautiful silver cased watch engraved upon the inside plate, stating that it was presented to him by Elias Morris and Samuel L. Evans as a token of their esteem.  Father said that during the four years of his apprenticeship he had not spoken in an unbecoming manner or been guilty of an unbecoming act, or broken a rule of the agreement entered into.

Effie's earnings stood her in good stead as she turned her attention to the coming event.  Besides the trousseau there were household furnishings, quilts, rug, carpet and mat.  When the Log Cabin pieces for the quilt were completed they were set together and a quilting party arranged for.  Those invited were dear Aunt Aggie, Cousin Belinda Pratt Musser, and Cousin Lucy Pratt Russell.  The quilting was done in our cozy parlor and pleasant jokes passed around the quilt as the needles were sewed upon the pretty blocks.  This, with the rug and door mat were all made from pieces of cast off wearing apparel so that they represented part of her maidenhood's history.

She had already, with neatness and care made some pretty suits of underwear and a short time previous a nice dark blue cashmere dress.  Sister Bird, an expert dressmaker was engaged to do the cutting and fitting, but the rest was Effie's own handiwork.  It was made with a polonaise, and she also made a winter wrap to wear with it, and bought a black felt hat of becoming style.

A pale blue cashmere was selected for the wedding dress which was given into Sister Bird's hands to make, but a dainty white dress to wear in the Endowment House, Effie made herself.

The date for the wedding was the 4^th of April 1878.  By this time all was in readiness but the date had been kept a profound secret from all but Aunt Aggie, until the day previous, because of bashfulness of the young couple.  They did not wish for an elaborate wedding, so in the afternoon of the eventful day we went quietly to the Endowment House, there being no Temple nearer than St. George. 

In order not to attract attention Effie and Aunt Aggie went along Second South Street and Winnie accompanied me on Third South Street.  Winnie represented the other family, in order to show them proper respect.  Then Bro. Ashton took his invalid mother in a buggy and father came over from his office with his coat thrown over his shoulder, for the day was warm.

Apostle Joseph F. Smith (now president) performed the ceremony which  made them husband and wife, and Aunt Aggie said she saw the ruffles on Effie's dress tremble as she knelt at the altar to be married.

In the meantime Addie, little brick that she was, had prepared a nice hot supper.  Before we sat down, Aunt Aggie took her beloved niece upstairs and soon returned with her arrayed in her perfectly fitting pale blue princess dress and presented her to us as Mrs. Ashton.

Sister Ashton being an invalid we appreciated her company very much.  About ten o'clock the party broke up, the bridal couple going to their pretty new home built by the groom's own hands, which was situated on the south-east corner of First South and Sixth West.

The Ashton family had expressed their love by many substantial presents, and Sister Ashton sent a quantity of provisions, so that they would be supplied for some time.

The day following their marriage Effie made a cake and some lemonade, in order to entertain the friends who would be sure to call when they heard the news.  The lemonade of course, took the place of wine, which is so often served upon such occasions, but they would have no intoxicants, and those who desired such would be placed at small value.

The following Sunday, the boys and girls came down in a troop with shouts of joy, bringing many tokens of their affection and esteem.

You will remember a picture of your brother Nephi, when he was a little fellow, dressed in a velvet kilt and cutaway coat with a horn attached to his belt.  When Georgie was three years old I made him a pair of knickerbockers of this kilt of Nephi's, which worn with the little jacket made a nice suit of which he was very proud.

We began to teach him to recite verses from a linen picture book Bro. Evans had given him.  It contained Scripture incidents.  The one we taught Georgie was as follows: -

 

"Behold the Dreamer comes,

  Seize him, hold him fast,

  And in the lonely darksome pit

  Was gentle Joseph cast."

  (he pronouncing Joseph, 'Jovus')

 

A few weeks later he recited the following verses at the Sunday School.  They were taken from "Little Snow-Flake's Album" which Nephi had received for his fifth birthday.

 

"A little bird built a warm nest in a tree,

  And laid some blue eggs in it, one, two and three

  And then very glad and delighted was she.

  She spread her soft wings on them all the day long

  To warm them and guard them, her love was so strong,

  And her mate sat beside her and sang her a song.

  Then after a while, how long I can't tell,

  The little ones crept one by one, from the shell

  And the mother was pleased, for she loved them all well.

  One day the young birds were crying for food,

  So off flew the mother, away from her brood

  Then came up some boys, who were wicked and rude.

  They tore the soft nest down, away from the tree,

  The little ones tried but could not get free

  So at last they all died away, on, two and three.

  When back to her nest the mother did fly

  Oh, then she set up the most pitiful cry,

  Then moaned a long time, and laid down to die.

 

BIRTH OF MY FIRST GRANDCHILD

In the early part of 1879 my daughter Addie was called as councillor (sic) in the Primary Association of the Fifteenth Ward.  On the 12^th of the same month, (January) my first grandchild was born, in the person of Edward Morris Ashton.  His Aunt Sarah Roberts called him Edward the Third, because his father and grandfather bore the same name.

The Sunday Afternoon that he was blessed there were two of your father's grandsons present to receive a name.  One was little Willie Swan, who was blessed by your father, who, in the course of his remarks said that he expected to see his children's children.  Eddie was blessed by Bro. Ashton.  Both grandfathers were called upon to speak. This was Bro. Ashton's first grandchild and in speaking he made this very humble remark: - "I hope that I shall never do anything to disgrace him."  Bro. Thos. C. Griggs selected an appropriate hymn for the occasion commencing, "This Child We Dedicate to Thee."  (Bless his memory)  Page 223 L.D.S. Hymn Book.

 

ANOTHER SON IS BORN AND DIES

On the 20^th of July 1882 another son was born to me.  He was a remarkably large child, weighing fifteen or sixteen pounds, the midwife said, but was lost for want of proper help.  Your father was at home with me and would have gone anywhere or given anything to get help but it was not obtainable at the moment.  The loss of this little baby was a great disappointment to me and also to Addie, and even little Katie, although only five years old, felt it keenly and would go to the drawer where the tiny articles of clothing had been placed and weep bitterly.  I was forty-seven years old at the time and my husband fifty-seven.

 

LINES IN MEMORY OF RICHARD VAUGHAN, SON OF ELIAS AND MARY L. MORRIS.  BORN JULY 20, 1882.  DIED JULY 20, 1882

Little floweret, you have left us

In this shady sorrowing sphere

Death's cold hand has thus bereft us

Thickly falls the bitter tear.

Who was it hovered near our bed

When in the throes of Motherhood?

Who was it came with noiseless tread

And bore our Baby heavenward?

Perchance some dear departed one

Commissioned from the realms of Joy

To take our little new-born son

Where pleasure reigns, without alloy.

 

On August 16^th, 1878 Auntie too lost a dear little daughter two years old.  The following lines were composed by me upon that occasion.

 

A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF LITTLE JESSIE PEARL.  DAUGHTER OF ELIAS AND MARY P. MORRIS.  Born August 22, 1876 - - Died August 16, 1878

 

Oh, sweet little Jessie, the pride of our heart,

How little we thought that with thee we must part;

How bitter the sting; how piercing the smart!

Thy beautiful eyes! How they follow us now.

How bright were the curls that decked they fair brow.

We fancy we're smoothing thy silken locks not.

Pearly thy teeth, and sweeter thy kiss,

The sound of they dear little feet, how we miss;

To have but one look at they face would be bliss.

Oh sweet little Pearlie, who brightened our path,

How fain would we take thee from cold mother earth,

To cheer us, and bless us, and gladden our hearth.

We think thou art coming, but no, it is vain,

We never shall clasp thy fair image again

In this world of sorrow, and darkness and pain.

We know thou art gone to the dear ones above,

Their arms shall embrace thee, their hearts best with love

We know they will take special care of our dove.

 

When my little Kate was five years old I taught her to sew and composed the following little poem, which she learned to recite.

 

Come, little Kate, upon my knee

And bring your work and thimble,

And nice stitches, one, two, three

You soon will be quite nimble.

Your alphabet you've conquered now

And soon you'll learn to spell

And pretty lessons then you'll learn

And pretty stories tell.

And then you soon will learn to knit

And many uselful things; -

For surely half our happiness

From love of labor springs.

 

When she was about three years old, we made her a winter suit of very soft and rather bright blue flannel, with a hood to match.  It was a pretty sight to see her in it, with her bright blue eyes, rosy cheeks, fair complexion and brown hair, her new dolly in her hand, as Effie took her over to her little home. 

Before Effie was married Addie was beginning to receive attention from a young gentleman friend, and was often invited to nice parties, but the young lady seemed to be very hard to please and this young suitor was followed by several others.

After the death of the little baby to whose advent we had all looked forward with so much joyous anticipation, she seemed sad and gloomy, and as a young lady who had been staying with us was about to return to her home in St. George she wanted Addie to return with her so that she might visit her Uncle Charles Walker and his family.  We hurried and did a little sewing for her and in due time she departed.  The day she left I cleared away the remains of our dress-making and tried to do some ironing, but finding some of her clothes I began to weep and felt almost as if I had lost her, and when I went in to the quiet orderly parlor I so missed her dear presence that it seemed for a while as if she had gone from me forever.

While she was away I cleaned the house throughout as I always did in the Fall, and also that it might look pleasant to her, as well as doing the usual housework.

On the 24^th of December she returned.  When the train which bore her passed the house it was about 7 A.M. and I was upon my knees scrubbing the porch.  A few minutes later she arrived from the depot, bringing with her her cousin Zaidee, whom I had not seen since she was a little toddler.  Now she was seventeen years old and reminded me very much of her father, my brother Charles. She possessed a good deal of her Grandfather Walker's wit, humor and satire.  She was of medium height, fair complexion, dark brown hair and eyes and small hands and feet.  I felt rich now with my daughter and niece also.  As it was the day before Christmas and I was very much absorbed in home affairs, I concluded that, for an outing Addie and Zaidee could do the Christmas shopping.  Father gave them each a new dress for Christmas.

As Christmas Day this year fell upon a Sunday, our esteemed friend and Sunday School Superintendent, Bro. T. O. Griggs, suggested that we keep the celebration on Monday as to presents.  So on Sunday evening, after the children had gone to bed, Addie and Zaidee arranged the presents upon the side table.  While they were doing so, Addie made this remark, "I bet I'll be married in two years from now, if I want to."

One of Nephi's presents was a Chatterbox, which his cousin took great pleasure in reading to him during her visit.  I remember a favorite story about a man named Paul Parker who killed a mad dog and thus saved several lives.  Many of the stories were of English life and very interesting.  There was also a little joke about England to the effect that their American cousins think that England is so small in comparison to their own vast continent that English people are afraid to go to bed at night for fear they will find themselves in the sea in the morning.

Again, under a picture of a donkey were some verses referring to his very hard life.  I think there were some carrots dangling in front of him to make him go by coaxing him along.  Two of the lines were as follows:

In all the three kingdoms you scarcely could see

Such a little, old, rough looking donkey as he.

Your cousin Zaidee was extremely fond of reading, and like her grandfather, was a good conversationalist and would have us laughing till we shook.  We became very much attached to her during the nine months she remained with us.  The day she returned home we prepared a chicken dinner.  Auntie Barbara happened to call in and asked me to accompany her to town, remarking that I should be back in time to see Zaidee off.  This was however, unfortunately, not the case and as the dear child stood at the depot and realized that the last ray of hope of seeing her Aunt Mary before she left was passed, she sobbed with grief.  And that aching spot is in my heart yet to think that my beloved niece so longed to bid me a loving good-bye.

On January 1^st, 1884, Mr. George M. Cannon and his friend Dr. Leslie W. Snow called and left their cards.  We had noticed that Mr. Cannon was showing our daughter Addie some attention and you father expressed his satisfaction, he being an intimate friend of Bro. Angus M. Cannon and knowing the son to be intelligent, a good business man and a consistent Latter Day Saint.

In the early part of the year Bro. Angus M. Cannon and his family dined with us and a little later we went to dinner at their home, where we spent a very pleasant evening.  Apostle Erastus Snow, who was on the eve of taking his departure on a mission to a distant part of the country, (probably Mexico) was one of the guests.

Later in the evening Addie accompanied Mr. Cannon to a Leap Year Ball, a function which was not at all to Addie's taste.  Some time afterwards, I remember, she was called to act as floor manager to a Leap Year Ball in our Ward, a position which was repugnant to her natural feelings, but she performed her task well, however. 

As we were returning from the dinner party your father told me that Bro. Geo. M. had asked if he might pay his addresses to Addie, and he had replied that there was nothing in the way.  I objected to this last statement, as she was corresponding in a friendly way with a young man who resided in a distant part of this state, and had several other admirers.  It was, I think, the following morning, about 10 A.M. that Mr. Cannon called to ask my permission also. I expressed my esteem for him personally but explained that the choice must rest with the young lady herself as to whether she should be the favored suitor.

When father would bring Addie a letter from this other gentleman he would look rather archly over his spectacles at her and ask, "How many beaus are you going to have?"

It was on Sunday night, the last day of Spring Conference that Mr. Cannon had the promise that Addie would be his wife.

The following month, her friend with whom she had been corresponding, came to Salt Lake on his way to Logan to attend the dedicatory services of the Temple there.  He had heard of her engagement, and called several times in a friendly way, but previous to his departure, came with the intention of talking the matter over with her.  Some time later I saw him about to leaves the house, and in a kind manner asked him to stay to dinner, but he replied, "I am extremely obliged to you, but not now."  My sympathies are very strong, and I felt so sorry for him that I wept most of the afternoon.  It seemed so cruel for a young man of his worth to come hundreds of miles to offer his hearts best affection and find that it was not returned.  Addie did admire him and appreciated his fine qualities, but if she had a choice, it was her privilege to manifest it.  Both these gentlemen are friends today, and even at the time there was no bitterness in his heart towards his rival, for he remarked, while wishing her good-bye, "Well, Addie, if you decide in favor of Bro. Cannon, he will have one of the best wives in the world."  I may say that this young man later obtained a wife of many gifts and graces and as good as the world makes.

Upon one occasion I remarked to Br. George M. that after he had traveled out in the world, as most of our Elders do, he might see some fair maiden whom he would have preferred to my daughter.  His reply was very fine I thought.  He said, "Sister Morris, if the Gospel does not make girls more attractive than those of the world, than I have no more to say."

He would like to have married Addie in June but she would not agree to such an early date, nor yet in September, nor at Thanksgiving, but finally consented to let the event transpire on Christmas Day.  So we did our best to have matters in readiness.  She made many fancy articles to ornament her new home and sewed carpet rags, which I dyed in brilliant colors.  I made three quilts, one a dainty greyish blue shade of soft flannel with a red star set in every other block and quilted to match the pattern.  It was a beautiful quilt for a brides outfit.  A second was of bottle green cashmere arranged in what was called a goose-chase pattern, in suitable colors.  A third had diamonds of orange and blue shaded material arranged upon a soft flannel background.  Besides these I had earned enough money to buy a guitar, which I thought to give as a wedding present, but upon second thoughts bought a handsome Chamber set instead.

ADDIE'S WEDDING

Three days before Christmas I hired Miss Annie Waterfal to do my kitchen work while I cleaned house, painted, and varnished and cooked.  On the 23^rd and 24^th I dressed fat chickens and a turkey.  I had engaged Miss Amelia Howells to make the cakes and pies and they were well done.  I had also made a fruit cake.  Father brought another turkey weighing seventeen pounds, on Christmas eve.

It was three o'clock of the morning of the 25^th before I went to bed and two hours later I arose.  At seven Bro Ball came to ice the wedding cake, which was in three tiers and was made by Sister Ann Duncanson.  We prepared for sixty guests and had food enough for twice that number.  Aunt Nancy came and cooked the vegetables. 

The young couple had desired to go to the St. George Temple to be married as they had received their endowments there, and also it was the birthplace of George M. but on account of the approach of severe weather it was deemed wiser to go to the Endowment House in Salt Lake City.  They were accompanied thither by the parents of both, - Bro. Angus M. Cannon and his wife Sarah Maris, your father, and myself.  President Cannon performed the ceremony of marriage and kissed his son and new daughter at the close.

We reached home early in the afternoon and soon afterwards the groom presented his bride with a set of jewels, a breast pin and ear-rings.  The design was a beautiful little bird with a diamond in its mouth.  This was a magnificent present and a token of love in more ways than one, for I think the birds were doves.

Among our guests were Pres. Angus M. Cannon, his wife Mrs. Sarah Maria Cannon, and Aunts Amanda, Clara, and Dr. Mattie Hughes Cannon, with all of the grooms brothers and sisters together with Mina's husband Abram H. Cannon and their children.  Also two little girls whom Aunt Clara Mason Cannon was rearing.  Bro. Abram H. Cannon was a cousin of the bride-groom but also a brother-in-law, but we felt unable to invite all the cousins, except Cousin Billy Morris and his wife Diantha, whom father insisted must come as he was the eldest and more like a brother, although Addie was afraid of giving offense by the discrimination.

I was obliged to leave the bride to entertain her company while I superintended affairs in the kitchen.  The huge turkey was in the over by two o'clock, allowing it four hours to cook and claimed more or less attention all that time.  We had fires in the dining-room, parlor and down-stairs bed-room where the presents were displayed.  Also in the cook-shed where the fat chickens were gently stewing, and in the kitchen, where the lesser and greater turkeys sent forth their savory odor while the vegetables cooked to taste.  I believe our six o'clock dinner was cooked without accident and our guests were pleased to pass a favorable judgement upon it.

During the evening Dr. Mattie recited, "Mary, Queen of Scots" in a very pleasing manner.  Addie was induced to sing, but broke down in tears.  It was a song of home.  That very evening, two years previously Addie had remarked to her cousin Zaidee, - "I guess I'll be married in two years from now, if I want to" and so her own prophecy had come to pass, to the very hour even.  When ten o'clock arrived the guests took their departure.

When the last of the guests had gone the groom waited to take his bride to their pretty new home, but little Katie, then about nine years old, began to raise objections to this plan.  With her arms about her beloved sister, who was about to leave the parental roof, she piteously begged her not to go, crying, "You said you would not leave me tonight!"  The groom walked the floor in silent distress, while Miss Waterfall, who had been assisting in serving the dinner, joined her tears with Katie's.  The gentleman, however, did not seem much affected by our sentiment and quietly waited, while his brother in a buggy outside, where it was raining, did the same.  Finally Addie was able to tear herself away from her little sister and stepped into the buggy with her husband, to make bright and happy their future home.

I am afraid Mr. Cannon did not love his bride's little sister very much in those days, for Katie had been rather spoiled and had the idea that where her sister was, there she might be also.  I know she had often intruded herself upon their company, when he, at least, could have dispensed with her, although it was at Addie's invitation, not because I wished it. 

On the 11^th of October, 1884, another strange feeling came over me and as I felt as if I were going to a higher sphere I began to weep and did not know why.  It was Saturday night, the evening meal was over and your father had finished his stay with us for that week.  But before his departure I asked him if he required any more of me, in my course of life, than I had already done.  Putting his hand affectionately upon my head he replied, "No, lass."  After he had gone I wept still more, and thought, "Well, if I am to depart this life, I am perhaps, as well prepared now as I shall ever be.  My house is clean and so is my person," and I felt at peace with all the world.  And so I retired to rest.

APPOINTED PRESIDENT WARD PRIMARY ASSOCIATION

The next evening, as I was seated in the meeting house, Brother Binder came down from the stand and told me that the Bishopric wished to see me.  I remained seated after the meeting had closed and Bishop Pollard, with his councellors (sic), William L. Binder and Nathaniel V. Jones, came and told me that they wished me to preside over the Primary Association of the ward.  I remarked upon my lack of qualification for such a position but they replied "You are qualified, if you will only take hold of it."

The following Thursday, I think, October 16^th, 1884 a little meeting was held in our fine new meeting house when the organization of the association should be effected.  Besides the Bishopric there were present the officers of the Relief Society; Mrs. Ellen Clawson; Stake President of the Primary Association with her councellors, Mrs. Camilla C. Cobb and Mrs. Lydia Ann Wells.  In those days, before the Primary Association had a General Presiding Board, the Relief Society had jurisdiction over the Primary Association, so Sister Sarah M. Kimball, our beloved friend and President of the Relief Society, had charge of the affair and expressed her desire to make it as important as might be.  Mrs. Elizabeth Duncanson, president of the Visiting Committee of the Relief Society was also invited with Sisters Susannah Waterfall and Hortense Lang Jones.  After preliminary remarks by the President, Bishop Pollard addressed the meeting as follows: - "I have looked this ward over and over again and can find on one so suitable as Sister Morris.  She has reared her children in the order of marriage that the world is fighting and her children are a credit to the ward, and I consider her a proper person to help others rear their children." 

These eulogistic remarks caused me to feel very humble and tears came to my eyes.  Mrs. Duncanson turned to me and said in her emphatic way with her Scotch brogue: - "Ye mustn't refuse, but we will excuse ye from visiting the blocks."

My councellors were Sisters Susannah Waterfall and Hortense Lang Jones, with my son George, then ten years old, as Treasurer, as Sister Kimball suggested that I could then oversee that part also.  Pradie Brown was our Secretary with Vernie Lufkin as assistant.  Our first meeting was appointed for the following Thursday, which being Thanksgiving Day, we concluded should be in the form of a party.

While the children were happily dancing, two or three boys, aged from fourteen to fifteen, came and stood beside me on the stage.  One of them remarked, rather contemptuously, - "Too small!  Too small!"  His companion replied, "Rather than speak to a lady as you have spoken to that lady, I would sack my head."  A little later Bro. Henry P. Lindsay came and stood beside me but he was delighted, and said, "This is pretty!  This is beautiful!"  One little maiden danced so beautifully that had we been in possession of a bouquet we would have presented it to her, but upon consultation we concluded to give her the money to buy a pair of shoes, as her mother was a widow.

We had $4.00 in the Treasury at the beginning, and this was spent for much needed books, but this entertainment brought us $16.00, half of which we gave to the ward fund, to pay for the use of the hall.

Our next meeting was in the form of a concert by the children, but of course there was but little time for preparation, but Sister Sarah M. Kimball, who came to visit us, was much pleased, and Sister Elmina S. Taylor, General President of the Y.L.M.I.A., who had accompanied her, spoke encouragingly to us.

I put my best energy into the work; I loved it; I loved the children and the children loved me.  I controlled them by kind firmness and would allow no harshness used towards them.  I never went to a meeting without seeking Divine guidance.  My gift for singing served me well in this work and my natural idea of reciting was a help also.  With cheerfulness, kindness, patience and firmness, aided by the Spirit of God we got along very nicely and enjoyed the work.

We gave many entertainments in which the children took part, but did not charge for admission as I felt that the work was too sacred in its character.  If we needed funds we raised them in some other way.  For instance, a fair, which I worked hard to get up, left fifteen dollars in the treasury when I left the Association.

At one time I had an elocutionist of some merit for one councellor and a good reciter for the other.  But I, being president, did not propose to stand idly by and let them do all of this class of work although I always paid them due respect and consulted with them in everything.  But when I had anything to teach to the children and did not feel myself quite qualified, I went to the best elocutionist in town and at considerable expense took private lessons n the exercise I desired to teach, so, having learned myself, I was competent to teach others.  Many times, mothers, feeling proud of the achievements of their children would come to me and say, - "You have more patience with my children than I have myself" and they would express their gratitude for my efforts. 

I held the position of Ward President of the Primary Association for twelve years to the day, lacking one month, and was then called as Councellor to the President of the Salt Lake Stake Primary Board.

CALLED TO ACT AS COUNCELLOR TO PRESIDENT OF SALT LAKE STAKE PRIMARY BOARD

On one occasion I was called to act as one of the Committee on Programs for the Primary Stake Conference, with Miss Olive Derbridge, a distinguished Primary worker and Mrs. Ella W. Hyde.  Miss Darbridge thought we should have something original, and as our Conference was to be in September, the month in which the Prophet Joseph received the plates, I suggested that it should be in the Prophet's honor.  Miss D. thought that it should take the form of recitation from the children and that the title should be shown by letters hung upon the breasts of the little performers. She also intimated that she was in the habit of composing verses, and I asked her to prepare something for this occasion, but she begged me to undertake the labor for this particular time.  I agreed, with the proviso that Miss Derbridge should put it upon the stage.

Afterwards, having company in my home, the weather being very warm and not feeling well myself, I felt I could not undertake it, but finally concluded to make the effort at least.

As the little ones were to stand upon the platform in the Assembly Hall, the letters, hung upon their breasts would spell the name of the Prophet Joseph Smith, so I wrote my Acrostic accordingly, as follows,

 

AN ACROSTIC

 

Just when the time was due

For God to send the Truth,

An angel from his presence flew

To a pure, un-lettered youth.

On our fair western land

This favored boy had birth,

His parent's guiding hand

Formed character of worth.

So Joseph knelt and prayed

Upon the forest sod; -

There Satan, too assayed

To thwart the Living God

Enshrined in glorious light

Two persons then appear,

In robes of glorious white

Their countenance most clear.

Pointing to His own Son

The Great Jehovah said, -

'Hear Him, He is My own,

In Him my plans are laid.'

Have sects and parties strife?

Said Jesus to the boy,

'In them there is no light,

They bring to you no joy.

Standing by power from Heaven

The Truth you shall proclaim,

Though earth and sky be riven

Yet will I you sustain.

Much will Satan try you,

Yes, Hell will ope her jaws

But I am always nigh you,

You'll triumph in My cause.

Ingrafted in the Gospel

He grew from youth to man,

No trial was too heavy,

No suffering too keen.

Thousands dearly loved him

And he loved millions too,

He gave his life, a martyr,

What more could mortal do?

Having done the work assigned him

His course is ended here,

All foes are left behind him,

Nations shall him revere. 

Note: - The strongest terms used in the above verses will be found correct as to Church History.

 

Mrs. Zina D. Young was so well pleased with this little poem that she had the exercise repeated in the afternoon session. 

As the children marched up onto the platform and descended from the opposite side, the organ played "Praise to the Man Who Communed with Jehovah" to which melody the children marched in perfect order. 

I served some four years in the Stake Presidency of the Primary.  One of my last visits while in this position was to the Ninth Ward, where, in company with my Daughter Katie I attended a Primary Conference.  I had asked several questions on the subject of the Book of Mormon, and had purposely made them a little puzzling in order to make the children think.  One little boy in particular was much interested and gave some excellent responses. 

Knowing that children like riddles, the idea came to me then to write some verses so that, at the end of each, the children might guess at the name of the person or place to which it had reference.

The following was the result:

 

A boy came out of a city of old

He had father and mother and brothers, threefold,

And when they had journeyed three days on the plain

Their father commanded, they go back again.

There lived in this city of error and sin

A man who held records of their people and kin.

This man of the city was mighty and tall

He had many servants who came at his call.

These boys were afraid of this man that was tall

So they councelled awhile, outside of the wall.

And after some terrrible things had been done

They brought out the records through this faithful son

This boy, though the younger, was braver than all

He was stalwart and manly, and noble with all.

And so he went forth with his life in his hand

To do, and to keep, God's holy command.

One morning, their father stood near the tent door,

When a beautiful compass he found, on the floor;

This fine compass, it pointed which way they should go;

Our Father in Heaven had ordered it so.

Then onward they journeyed, and forward they went

Now traversing desert, or camping by tent,

Encountering dangers from beasts of the glen

O'er sod never pressed by the footstep of men.

No stop by the wayside, where harvests might yield

The pleasant and bounteous crops of the field,

No couch for the mother, or soft pillow liad,

When she pressed to her bosom her newly born babe.

No warm food or kind nurse to sooth when in pain,

But onward, still onward, they journeyed again.

Their huntsman and leader had broken his bow.

They smote him, and scourged him, to add to his woe.

But an angel was sent to deliver this lad

Whose brothers were wicked, rebellious and bad;

He made the earth shake, on the place where they stood;

They knew he was sent from the presence of God.

And when they had wandered eight years on the plain

And suffered much hunger and hardship and pain,

They came to some water, the beautiful sea!

Now, how could they cross it? the question must be.

Our Father, who watched them by night and by day,

Now showed the young Prophet the only true way.

A ship must be builded, with stern and with bow,

To glide o'er the water in safety, you know.

This ship was not built from the manner of men,

The great Master Builder had shown forth the plan,

The work of this ship was exceedingly fine,

The Creator of Worlds had made the design.

He showed the young builder where he could fine ore

To make needed tools, from the metals in store;

The ship now completed, o'er the blue waters ploughed

But the people she carried were exceedingly rude.

They danced and made merry, forgetting their God

So the young Prophet feared they'd come under the rod.

He spoke to them plainly and gave warning words,

For this they rebuked him, and bound him with cords.

His dear little children had come on the scene,

Their father in bondage for three days had been.

His wrists and his ankles were swollen and sore.

They begged, for their father, sweet freedom once more.

They ask that their father be given to eat,

And the cords taken off from his hands and his feet.

But the brow of their uncle grew dark, with fierce hate;

"We love not your father, nor pity his fate.

For we are the elder, and he, but a youth.

We serve not your God; we love not the Truth;

The good ship now tossed and heaved up so high

The water was foaming, and black was the sky.

The lightning was flashing, the loud thunder roar

No land was in sight; far, far, was the shore,

Their uncles now feared they would sink in the sea,

So for their own safety, their brother set free.

Their brother was happy, his heart filled with joy.

His praises to God had ascended on high.

And when he took hold of the compass once more,

The gallant ship glided in safety, to shore.

 

If I have accomplished any good in the Primary Association I leave it in the hands of God.  But I know that I have made the same earnest effort and pleaded for divine assistance with the same solicitude, with the children who have come under my care in this work, as I have with my own.

I remember upon one occasion there were present at a meeting a number of the larger girls, very few, if any of the little ones being present.  I felt impressed to speak to them of their future, of their virtue, and of their bodies being sacred as the Bible and of their virtue being more precious than their lives.  I then asked them to express their opinion as to the remarks I had made, and they all seemed to consider them correct.  Whether these dear girls ever attended Primary or not any more, my skirts are clear as to their future conduct. 

At another meeting where a great many small children were present I spoke to them on abstaining from intoxicants.  In the audience were two little boys in whom I took a particular interest, for I had seen their aged father hand their mother a drink from the door of a saloon.  This grieved me very much, although I did not mention the incident to anyone.  But I tried to get all the little ones to promise they would try and never partake of alcoholic drink.

Not long after, one of these little boys was gathered into the fold that knows no error, and the other I learned some time ago was on a mission.  Another also of the little boys present upon that occasion was gathered home in his approaching youth.

Upon the occasion of these funerals our little Primary band attended in a body, wearing white rosettes, to do honor to their little departed comrades.

In February, following my appointment to the Stake position, I was invited to attend a meeting of the Ward Primary.  A nice program was rendered during which the announcement was made that a poem by Mary L. Morris would be recited.  This rather surprised me, as I could not imagine which one it might be or how they came by it.  A little girl then came forward and in a delightful manner, for she was quite an elocutionist, recited a little poem I had written some time previously for Kate. (See p. 188)  Then another little girl came forward and addressed me in the following manner.

"Sister Morris? "

"We, the Primary children of the Fifteenth Ward have invited you to our meeting this afternoon for the purpose of expressing our gratitude to you for your past long and efficient service as our President, and as a token of our love and esteem, we present you with this remembrance, and trust that we shall ever retain a place in your memory, though a higher calling has taken you from us.

Salt Lake City, Utah,              February 5^th, 1897

Then a beautiful large copy of the Book of Mormon, bound in Morocco and gilt, was presented to me.  The proceeding address was written in the book.

Many years after this loving expression was received, I accidently (sic) met a group of these dear girls, who clung to me as in those days and affectionately assured me that if I held Primary meeting again they would still come!  To think of this causes a feeling of emotion to well up in my heart.

My Sunday School work was also a great pleasure to me.  I taught in Sunday School and Primary, both for a period of sixteen years, and in Sunday School and Relief Society for more than sixty years.

While I was a member of the Teachers Class, which occupied the Choir seats, I often noticed a group of young girls, ranging from eight to twelve years of age, who sat in the shadow of the east side of the stand.  I thought if I should be called upon to teach, this class would have my preference, as it reminded me of a similar group of girls whom I had taught in my early womanhood.  Once or twice I was called to take this class, and finally took entire charge of it.  There was one girl who was very shy.  Her mother told me she would not have gone to Sunday School if I had not been there.  I certainly felt sympathetic towards her.  As the fond memories of these girls comes back to me I will try to write their names as I remember them.  They were as follows:

 

                Helena Holding                                    Mary Harmon

                Clarissa Ure                                           Maggie Hull

                Isabell Ure                                             Susie Hull

                Minnie Stowell                                     Nettie Jones

Sadie Bowen                                         Julia Jones

                Maggie Bowen                                     Esther Sanburge
                                Gwendoline Harmon                            Sarah Jeremy

                Rachel Jeremy                                       Nettie Griggs

 

Little Alma Ure and his tiny brother came with their youthful Aunties and were very quiet little boys.  Esther Sanburge recited quite well.  These dear children all wanted the privilege of sitting by my side during the class, but as all could not do so at the same time, they took turns.

About this time your sister Addie had made ma a very handsome black plush hand bag with my initials embroidered in gold colored silk.  I also had a pair of heavily mounted gold rimmed spectacles which had been given me by my children upon my birthday.  This gift was accompanied by a sweet little note, written by my son-in-law, George M. Cannon.  In those days gold-rimmed spectacles were not very common and the girls liked to look at them.  I also used a real sealskin muff which had been a present from my son Nephi.  Associated with sitting next (to) me in turn, was the right too hold my bag and muff, in turns.  The love that glowed in my heart for these little girls, flows into it again as I write of those days.

One Sunday we were told that in about three weeks our class would be called upon to give an exercise upon the stand.  I thought, "What shall we do?"  The children were too young to write essays, and unless essays are very well written they are dry reading.  We had been studying Church History.  My love and admiration for the Prophet Joseph had caused me to write some verses in reference to him.  These I knew to be historically correct, and would represent the course of study we had persued (sic), and would be as interesting, perhaps, as any other matters that "came on the stand" as we called it, in those days.  Little Esther Sanburge was chosen to recite the verses and in teaching her to repeat them, I tried to imbue her little mind with the spirit in which they had been written.  The verses were as follows: -

 

HISTORIC SKETCH

 

An Angel through the midst of heaven

Flying with Gospel plan

To him the glorious truths were given

To deliver unto man.

A youth had earnest sought the Gospel

As 'twas taught in ancient days

But by man, so long perverted,

Each, to suit his own dark ways.

He had found in James's writing

Chapter first, verse number five;

If any of ye lack for wisdom,

Ask of God; he will provide.

'Twas a time of great confusion

Each declared, he had the light.

Joseph bowed, in lone seclusion

Asking God, - 'Which sect was right?'

The powers of darkness sought to slay him

By them his tongue and limbs were bound.

They, in their fierce anger threw him

Prostrate, dumb, upon the ground.

Still, his prayers to Heaven ascended

Though he uttered not a word,

Then a glorious light descended.

He beheld the living God!

Standing near the great Jehovah

Was His well beloved Son

And the Father, pointing toward Him,

Said to Joseph, - 'Hear ye Him.'

Then the Saviour plainly told him; -

'All the sets and creeds are wrong '

They are false, and I abhor them

To none of them must you belong.

In due time, if you are faithful,

An honored instrument you'll be,

In my hands, to spread the Gospel

From land to land; from sea to sea.'

Then the glorious vision ended,

Joseph's heart was filled with joy.

The Father and the Son ascended,

Leaving Truth, without allow.

 

SECOND PART

 

At night, when Joseph knelt to pray

And meekly bowed his youthful head

His room became more bright than day

An angel stood beside his bed.

His robes were a most brilliant white,

And they were girt with gold.

His face exceeded noon daylight

Most precious truths he told.

To Joseph, he of scripture spake,

Of times both new and old;

Of records that did silent wait

For Joseph to unfold.

This record gave a clear account

Of the aborigines

Of this delightful continent,

And how they crossed the seas.

How Nephi built a goodly ship

Instructed of the Lord; -

How ore was molten, tools were made,

By his inspiring word.

And how they left Jerusalem

Long centuries ago.

And how a compass true was found

Which pointed where to go.

When they in meekness bent their way

This compass guided well; -

When they from peace and love would stray

Its point refused to tell.

Still on they went, from east to west,

Directed by our God.

Until they found a place of rest

On fair Columbia's sod.

Though many nations rose and passed,

And wars did them divide;

But this record true was safely clasped

And faithfully inscribed.

'Twas handed down, as 'twas begun

From one prophet to another

Or from father unto son,

Or brother unto brother.

The latest one who had the charge,

Of this historic work,

Was Moroni, son of Mormon,

And 'twas he who brought it forth.

'Twas he, who came to Joseph

In visions of the night,

'Twas he who at Cumorah's hill

Met Joseph by daylight.

'Twas he when Joseph had made plain,

In our own English tongue,

Who took the record back again,

To the place where it belonged.

 

THIRD PART

 

When hireling priests well understood

That God was with this boy,

They thirsted for his precious blood,

And sought him to destroy.

Still on he went in light and knowledge

Many languages he learnt;

Yet he entered not a college,

No, by heavenly power was taught.

Much he strove to bless his nation,

Liberal principles he taught,

And how the slaves emancipation

Could on peaceful terms be bought.

He taught the Gospel of our Saviour,

To the land that gave him birth,

And to bless it was his labor,

They regarded him with death.

Naught can stop the onward progress

Of the work by him begun.

It's founder is the great Jehovah,

It's master, the Beloved Son.

(Written about the year 1882)

 

The little maiden who recited this poem did well, and was a credit to herself, her class and me.

It happened that upon this Sunday also, our class had to report upon the attendance of its members, and the eyes of little Esther beamed with love as she announced; - "And Teacher was perfect too!"

Later the time came for the class to be promoted, but the girls said they would not leave the class unless their teacher went with them.  So an arrangement was made and a year of two later our class was moved to the west side of the Meeting House, near the center.  Added to their number now were Mary McLaughlin, Nellie Collins, Jennie and Sarah Thomas, May Billings, Lottie White, Josie Morris, Sissy Swan, and Lottie Griggs.

In due time we were again called upon to be represented upon the stand, and as I did not want to do just as everybody else was doing, in order to make a little change, I asked the girls how it would be if we should get up a dialogue.  They were delighted with the idea so I set about writing the following: -

 

A DIALOGUE ON GENERAL MORONI.

JANE.     Who do you think is the greatest general spoken of, as far as we have read, from First Nephi, to the 56^th Chapter of Alma:

EDNA.   I consider Moroni the greatest General we have read about.

JANE.     Who was Moroni?

EDNA.   He was the chief commander of the Nephite armies.

JANE.     What was it made him so great?

EDNA.   In the first place he feared God and loved Him with all his might, mind and strength; and in the second place, he seemed to possess natural tact and ability which peculiarly adapted him to such a position.

JANE.     And I have noticed that whatever happened, or whatever emergency confronted him, he was equal to it, and seemed to know just what to do and how it should be done.

EDNA.   Yes, and we can see, all the way along, that his heart burned with love of liberty, home, friends, country, and humanity at large, and above all, a determination to carry out the will of God.  I think him one of the greatest patriots that ever lived.

JANE.     Do you remember about the Liberty Pole?

EDNA.   Yes, we read of it in the 12^th and 13^th Chapters of the Book of Alma.  He tore a piece of his coat, and wrote upon it, - 'In memory of our God, our religion, our freedom, our peace, and our wives and our children.'  This he fastened to a long pole and called it the "Title of Liberty," and bowing himself to the earth he prayed mightily to his God for the blessing of liberty to rest upon his brethren as long as a band of Christians should remain to possess the land.

JANE.     And besides, the flag of Liberty waved from the towers, and thus he caused the Standard of Liberty to be planted among the Nephites.

EDNA.   I often think, in studying these great characters, that if we continue in the straight and narrow path to the end, we may perhaps, some day, have the privilege of talking to them of the history of their day.

JANE.     It is very remarkable how similar were the struggles of the ancient Nephites to those of the Puritan Fathers; and still more remarkable that there should be a condensed, though true, history of the United Sates of America in the Prophet Nephi's wonderful vision, 1^st Nephi, 11^th Chapter.

 

This dialogue was given by Mary McLauchlan and Josie Morris and was well received, and was repeated in the Sunday School Union monthly meeting.

About the year 1893 or 1894 I was asked if I would act as a missionary in the Relief Society, but in reply I said that I did not feel that I could leave my family over night.  In October, 1895, however, your sister Effie was taken seriously ill with inflammatory rheumatism, so on the 13^th of the month I went to stay with her and remained until the following January, only coming home at intervals to get a night's rest.  I had a good faithful girl in the house named Alice Bugess and with her were my sons Nephi and George, and my daughter Katie.

During this time I attended Sunday School as often as I could, but became discouraged, perhaps because I was overworked.  One morning, a little before Xmas I felt that I would resign, asking myself, "What good am I doing?"  "What do I know about teaching, and who wants me at Sunday School?"  As I was walking along with these thoughts in my mind I was overtaken by one or two of the young ladies of my class who greeted me so cordially that I could feel the love that was in their hearts for me.  The brethren at the Meeting House also greeted me with more than usual kindness, it seems to me, and later I found that while I had been indulging in these gloomy thoughts, my dear girls had been clubbing together and bought me a handsome book entitled "A New Witness for God" by B. H. Roberts, bound in morroco and gilt.  With this beautiful token of their love they had come in a body to the house, but not finding me at home, came again a few days afterwards, and your father came also, to see me surprised.  Between the pages of the book was one of the most exquisite bookmarkers I have ever seen.  It was of cream celluloid with pale blue for-get-me-nots embossed upon the upper part with a little landscape in natural colors below and the words "Hearty good wishes" in gilt letters.

Here are the names of the loving donors: -

 

Jennie Thomas                     Gwendolin Harmon              Lucile Mower

Clarissa Ure                           Annie Perkins                       May Billings

Effie Morgan                         Nellie Collins                         Zina Holding

Josie Morris                          Sadie Mower                         Mary Guiver

Minnie Stowell                     Nettie Griggs                         Mary S. McLauchlin

Martha Baldwin                    Isabell Ure                             Lottie Griggs

Sarah E. Jeremy                    Lucille Badger

 

The lessons that I learned were: - First, that I could leave my family at night and no harm would come to them while I was in the line of my duty; and secondly: - that when we become discouraged and think our friends do not love us, we may be quite mistaken in our judgement. 

About this time Brother John M. Mills gave a series of lectures upon the Book of Mormon at the former home of Thomas W. Ellerbeck (now the L.D.S. College).  These we attended with great pleasure and profit.

Our Ward Sunday School class was allowed to choose it's own course of study again, and as the members were willing that I should make the selection, we continued to study the Book of Mormon from the point where we had recently left off, and began the Third Book of Nephi.  When the time came for us to go to the stand again, we arranged another dialogue, as follows: -

 

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THREE MEMBERS OF THE CLASS.

(Using assumed names)

GLADYS.               Do you remember how many cities were destroyed upon this continent at the time our Savior was crucified?

ELLA.                     There are sixteen mentioned.  The city of Zerahemla was burned; the city Moroni sank in to the sea; earth was carried upon the city Moronihah, and many were carried away by whirlwind.

GLADYS.               The city Jacobugath, if you remember, was more wicked than the other cities, if that were possible.  I think it was named after the wicked kind Jacob, who was the leader of those who secretly murdered the prophets, put the chief judges to death, and trampling laws underfoot, took peace from the land.

ELLA.                     Yes, I remember that city.  It was so wicked that the Lord sent fire down from heaven to consume it, that He might behold their sins no more.

GLADYS.               The city Gilgal sank into the earth.  The cities Onihah, Mocum and Jerusalem sank and waters came where cities had stood.  The cities Gadiandi, Gadiomnah, Jacob and Gimgimno sank and hills and valleys arose in their stead.  The cities Laman, Joah Gad, and Kishkuman were burned with fire. (See III Nephi, Chap 9)  Can either of you tell me what the people who were not killed, were doing while these awful calamities were going on?

NORA.                   It is dreadful to think of, but they howled, wailed and said: - "Oh, that we had repented before this dreadful day.  Oh, that we had no killed the prophet, and cast them out!  Then would our fair daughters and our wives and our children have been spared us."  What made the scene more terrible was that crashing thunder pealed, lightning blazed and except for that, there was darkness upon the face of the earth so thick that it could be felt, and no light nor fire could be kindled, even with the dryest wood.

GLADYS.               And after the upheaving of the earth, the splitting and parting of the rocks, and all the other convulsions were over, the mantle of thick darkness was lifted from this scene of terror and the glorious sun shone upon the lonely few who had been more righteous than their kindred, and peace prevailed.

NORA.                   Yes, and a still, small voice was heard out of Heaven, saying, "Repent ye, and come unto me, that I may heal you."  And although the voice was so small and still, yet it penetrated them and caused them to quake.

GLADYS.               What a precious privelege (sic) Jesus granted to those who were gathered about the Temple, talking about Him when He descended out of Heaven.

NORA.                   I do not exactly remember what you refer to.

ELLA.                     He made them come and put their fingers in the prints of the nails and thrust their hands into His sides.

GLADYS.               How delightful it must have been for the Prophet Nephi to have the exquisite pleasure of kissing the feet of his Redeemer, of whom he had prophecied (sic), and for whose sake he had been cast into exile.

ELLA.                     How thankful we should be that our Heavenly Father has sent to us the Gospel, direct from his presence, as witness the Angel Moroni testifying to the Prophet that he had come direct from the presence of God.  No wonder that his presence was lustrous; no wonder that the room in that humble cottage was brighter than the noon-day sun; and still less wonder that the light which had filled the room gathered around his person, ere he departed.

(This dialogue was rendered by members of the Second Intermediate Class of the Fifteenth Ward Sunday School, March 22^nd, 1896)

Once I received a request from a gentleman, associated with the direction of the Public Schools of the County, and also an officer in the Sunday School, to appear before the Sunday School Union of the Salt Lake Stake and tell how I maintained such good order in my class, and yet had the love and reverence of the members.

All of my girls are now grown and some of them married but the same love is still in our hearts of each other, and not only the girls but also some young men who were little boys when we held the class conjointly.  Some time ago I had the honor of washing and anointing one of these dear girls, now a young matron, and through the ordinance the blessing of the Lord came to her good.

If these young people will love their own welfare, as I loved them, they will lack no good thing.

I think this will conclude the brief account of our work in the Relief Society, Sunday School, and Primary Association.

A PATRIARCHAL BLESSING

Salt Lake City.                       April 1^st, 1894.

A Blessing, given by John Smith, Patriarch, upon the head of Mary Lois Morris, duaghter of William and May Walker, born in Leek, Staffordshire, England, May 14^th, 1835.

Sister Mary Lois Morris, according to thy desire, I place my hands upon thy head, and by virtue of my office, pronounce and seal a blessing upon thee, that thy heart may be comforted and thy lineage made known.  Thou are of the house of Israel, and from thy childhood thou hast been honest in thy belief, and didst listen to the words of the Lord according to thy knowledge, with sincerity of heart.  For this the Lord was well pleased, and gave thine angel charge concerning thee, who has watched over thee, thus far, and in thy youth did preserve thee from the evils of the world and brought thee out from Babylon to partake of the blessings in Zion and to secure unto thyself an inheritance among the Saints.

Although at times thy pathway has been fraught with difficulties and thou has suffered privations, thou hast been true to thy trust and the Lord is pleased with thine integrity.  He has witnessed thy trials and thou shalt verily receive thy reward.  Thou are honered among the mothers in Israel and thy fame shall go forth far and near among the people.  And I say unto thee, let thy faith fail not; remember the promises thou hast received in times past, of the Lord, through His servants, for all shall be fulfilled.  Thy days and years shall be prolonged until thy mission is finished, therefore, look forward to the future with pleasure; be cheerful in thy deportment, for in this thou shalt find strength, and the peaceful influence of the Holy Spirit shall pervade thy system and give thee strength, and by reflection thou shalt realize that the hand of the Lord is over thee for good, and that thy life has been preserved for a wise purpose; therefore, be comforted.

Thou are of Ephraim, and shall be crowned hereafter among those who have fought the good fight, kept the faith and won the prize; therefore, be at rest in thy mind for all shall be well with thee, both here and hereafter.

It is thy duty, from this time forward, to council among thy sex, to minister among the sick, to cheer up the bowed down, comfort the hearts of the fatherless, and when thy circumstances permit, reclaim the wayward, that the younger may receive benefit through thy experience.  Therefore, I say unto thee, look always up the bright side, for thou shalt complete thy mission.

This, with thy former blessing, I seal upon thee, in the name of Jesus Christ, and I seal thee up unto Eternal Life, to come forth in the morning of the first resurrection, a savious among thy kindred.  Amen. 

HOME LIFE

In looking over my past life and the many years I have worked in the different offices I have been called to fill in the organization of the Church, it is a satisfaction to me that I have not neglected my children.  And any success I may have had in this regard also, I have my Heavenly Father to thank for His assistance, through the inspiration of His Holy Spirit.  No matter was too small for me to raise a petition to Him for help, and my prayer was always answered.

Even in those early days, when we had no bathroom or many changes of clothes, I made a point of bathing the children and giving them clean underwear twice a week.

Little Kate would be the first.  Having a large towel warm to receive her, I would wrap her in it, head and all, and after rubbing her, pretend that I had lost her, until a few minutes later I uncovered her little brown head and smiling face, pretending to have found her again, to her great delight.  The bathing would occur on Wednesday and Saturday evenings usually.  If all could not be bathed at night, it was done the following morning.  One morning, I remember, I had only twenty minutes to bathe little Nephi, or he would be late for School.  I was unwilling that he should miss his bath or be tardy, but with the help of my Heavenly Father, all went well, and he was bathed, changed and off to school in time.

It was My Heavenly Father and me in the rearing of those children, for I had sent my petition to the courts above that the King of Kings would send me spirits who would have a desire to serve Him above all things on earth.

Nephi had a very strong will; He was not inclined to do evil, but not always aching to do what I knew to be for his best good.  But I could not let it go at that.  This strong willpower needed directing.  Sometimes I would kneel down, perhaps three or four times, before I could get him to go to Sunday School, but it was generally successful.  In the line of duty, it was my God, and then my children.

When he was about ten years old I had entreated him to go to meeting with me, but this time to no purpose, so I went my way without him.  Your sister Addie, who was always very careful of her little brothers, was at home, so I had no anxiety upon that score.  While in meeting I was a man go up to the stand as if to take a message, and then your father rose and went out.  As I neared Third West on First South Street, your father met me with a buggy, and told me in a pleasant manner that Nephi had broken his leg.

In his afternoon meanderings he had been down to the barn and climbing a fence, his knickerbockers had caught, and hanging there, his weight had broken his leg.  By the time I reached home he had been made very comfortable by Dr. Joseph S. Richards.  His precious leg was encased in leather splints and over this they had put on of a pair of red and grey striped stockings, which I had knitted for my own use, such being the style in those days.  This fitted cozily over the splints and gave added support.  He was put to bed on the lounge in the dining room, which was lofty, roomy and airy, so with the bright glow of the fire, made a pleasant room for an invalid boy.  I made a bed for myself in the recess near the fireplace and having just completed some warm winter night gowns, I was ready and it was a real pleasure to wait upon him if he needed anything at night.

Many friends called to see him, amongst others Miss Mary Jones, who brought Claude Clive, a boy about Nephi's own age.  She also used to come and bring him grapes, etc.  Ed brought him a map of the United States, in blocks, which gave him much pleasure to put together.

In about three weeks the doctor said we might take him to his office.  It was on a fine frosty Sunday that Ed Parry took us up in a buggy.  Your father was at the time in Parley's Park building the Ontario Mine.  That night as we began to ascent the stairs to retire, Nephi stumbled over the first step.  My heart was filled with loving compassion and tenderness as I helped him back into the dining room and drawing the lounge near the fire, took him in my arms as I would have taken a newly-born baby, only love was so much stronger.  His utter helplessness and his having suffered so much already, drew forth the deepest sympathy of my heart.

The same afternoon, I think, the floor in front of the hearth, which had been built by a short-sighted workman, with only a foot of the space where the ashes fell, caught fire, burning the carpet and the floor underneath.  Upon examining the hole in the floor, I could see shavings underneath and feared that a spark might have fallen amongst these and that it might smoulder, and later break into flames.  I extinguished the fire, and poured water all around, but little Nephi being so crippled and your father away from home, I felt very anxious.  So I called the family together and had prayers, asking God to take care of us and after that we felt no uneasiness.  The following morning we had a man come to enlarge the hearth and make it safe.

I am reminded of a pleasant incident that occurred a few months previous to this.  The two little boys, Nephi and George, had some beautiful new suits made by your father's Welsh tailor, Bro. John Thomas, and I had knitted them some red stockings, and thus arrayed I took them to town to see the Strassburg Clock, in miniature, which was displayed in one of the stores.  When this clock struck the hour, images representing the twelve apostles came out and bowed before the Saviour.  I was April conference, and seeing the clock, and enjoying a feast of oranges, was a great treat to the little fellows.

When Nephi was in his early teens he was called and ordained a deacon.  It would sometimes happen that a party would be held upon the same evening as his quorum meeting but I always urged him to attend his meeting first and go to the party afterwards, or in other words, to seek first the Kingdom of God.

As soon as he was old enough, he went to the Brigham Young Academy, at Provo.  I wrote to Bro. Maeser, asking him not to allow my boy to room with some who might have been sent there to reform bad habits, as I had taken great care of him, thus far.

While he was there, however, I had an opportunity of seeing him sometimes, for part of the time I was in hiding, on the "underground" as we called it, I resided in Provo.

ON THE UNDERGROUND

When it was nearing Christmas, my daughter Addie was much concerned at my being away, thinking that it was a dreadful thing for a mother to be absent at the festal season, so at the end of November, much against my judgement, I went to Salt Lake.  I expected to return to Provo in February and bring my son George Q. (whom I had left in charge of his sister Effie) back with me to attend B.Y. Academy with his brother Nephi.

I have often thought since, how much more comfortable I should have been at Aunt Clara Loverage's than to have returned home to a cold, dusty house, which of course my first thought was to make as clean and cosy as possible.  But even then I had to be in hiding, and it was well that I did so, as after events proved, for it was by the veriest chance that I got out of the City again without being caught by our persecutors.  I had asked Arnold to give me an account of the amount I had received from the office during a certain period, and during the evening received a letter from him as he passed down the street to his own home.  I naturally concluded it to be merely the memorandum referred to, and as I as very busy laundering some clothes to send to Provo to the boys the following day, I put the envelope on the mantle, behind the clock, and thought no more about it.  The next day was Fast Day, in those days held on Thursday.  As I sat by the fire during the afternoon I chanced to look up and detected your father's handwriting upon the envelope.  It was from the Blue Bird Mine, which he was building for the Walker Bros. In Montana.  He said he had had words with a man who was working for him, and was afraid he intended to make trouble, so I had better get out of the way as soon as possible.

How to wash, iron and pack to leave my home for an indefinite period, in a few hours, was a pussler (sic).  I had to have my wits about me.  First I put in one lace all I intended to take with me and worked as hard as I could.  At dusk, I went to the office to make some necessary arrangements.  As I set out all went like clock-work.  The car was at the top of the street when I arrived and at Main Street I met Dean Swift, who went to the office to see if Arnold Giauque were there, while I waited upon the corner.  I shall always remember his kindness.  He brought back word that our faithful friend and business manager had not yet left, having been detained (for my benefit, it would seem).  I went into the office and made my business known to him; - if I had been a titled lady he could not have treated me with more respect; I shall never forget him for it.  He gave me what money I needed and a nice purse to hold it, and promised to see that my trunk was at the depot the following morning in time for the train.  So next day, the 5^th of December, 1885, at 6 A.M. I started out, holding little Katie by the hand.  I went early for safety and it was so dark that I had to feel my way over the foot bridge.  I was thickly veiled and afraid to look or speak, and when I met my Son Nephi at Provo I was afraid to own him or speak to him.  He, however, came to me and introduced me to a Bro. Louveridge, who took me in a conveyance to the home of his wife, Aunt Clara, a particular friend of ours, to whom he introduced me as Mrs. Vaughn.  She received me quite kindly, but when I removed my veil she exclaimed; "You little gypsy," and was ready to shake me with delight.  And so I reached my place of refuge in safety.  Dear Aunt Clara made us very happy for a short time, and was very disappointed when I made up my mind to go up to Salt Lake again just before Christmas Day.  She was a great friend of your Aunt Aggie's and was pleased to entertain her sister. 

Christmas day was not a very happy holliday (sic) for me, as I was afraid to go out and remained in hiding alone, at home, but had the consolation of being with my daughter Addie as much as I could during my stay, and was with her when, on the 11^th of the next month (January) little Addie was born.  Your father, however, did not consider it very safe for me to stay, so I returned to Provo, where I spent Washington's Birthday very pleasantly.  It was a beautiful day and the sun shone brightly as I sat looking over some back numbers of the Juvenile Instructor, which was a source of intellectual enjoyment.

In March your father came to Provo upon some business matter, and during his short stay asked me if I would like to go to St. George.  When I was in Salt Lake he had asked me to do so, but I had declined, as I did not want to be separated from my children, but now that I was already separated from them, I was pleased with the idea and gladly anticipated the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with my old friends in Cedar City, where I had spent some very happy days, and also experienced some bitter trials.  But alas, before he returned, he had concluded that I had better remain in Provo and have Nephi and George board with me, so as to lessen expenses.  This disappointment, together with a spell of very cold weather, made me feel rather blue, as it is so seldom that I give way to anticipation, and I wanted to go south and stay for a little while.  The following month your father again came to Provo, as the April General Conference was held there.  When we first went there your father requested me to take the name of his dear Grandmother Vaughan, but one frosty day, little Miss Katie wrote her name upon the window pane, and so gave us away.

Before the close of the school year, we went to Spanish Fork, to visit some old friends of your father's.  It was during the month of May, 1886 and we, little Katie and I, were met at the depot by a Mr. Stringer with a good conveyance and in the evening there was a meeting at which the real Welsh language was spoken.  It took me back fifty years!  His wife, who had formerly been the wife of John Roach, received us very kindly and we spent a pleasant week visiting friends of your father's.

The following week, on May 26^th, we went to the closing exercises at the Academy, conducted, of course, by Karl G. Maeser and James E. Talmage.  In those days of poverty these worth gentlemen had not yet received the title of "Doctor."

The exercises were delightful indeed; the pure spirit of the Gospel ran through all of them.  Bro. Talmage was a powerful factor in the mirthfulness of the occasion, at the close of which we took the train for our home in Salt Lake City.

A little before this your father had been subpoened (sic) by those appointed for such work.  They came to him early one morning.  He spoke rather sharply to them as follows:  "What do you want to come here for at this time of the morning disturbing the family?"  "I am in my office, and in my buggy and around town, and you can get me any time.  I am not running away."  On their route they had been down to your sister Effie's, but they would have it she was Briggie Ashton's wife and not Elias Morris's daughter, so they did not get her.  When the deputies went to the Academy, wise Brother Maeser brought your brother John to them, and kept Nephi and George back.  The time for the trial had not yet been set, but when all was in readiness your father told me to take his name again.  An amusing incident occurred just before I left Provo.  I had been told that the Deputies were after me, and hurried to some kind hearted family, whose name was Meldrum, I think.  Seeing a man coming towards the house, Aunt Clara hastened over to me saying: - "Aunt Mary, there is a Deputy at the house now, where are you going?"  I replied, "I am going to stay right here." So the 'Deputy' came to the house where I was hiding, and when he made his appearance this much dreaded man proved to be your father!

When we arrived home from Provo a warm welcome awaited us.  Your father and Addie had united in trying to make the house look homelike and a warm supper was cooked and ready to serve.  Addie had made me a fine white apron for my birthday present and we were as glad to be home as they were to have us return.

I was now free to set to work at my house-cleaning, feeling free for a while, or at least until the trial came off.  I was surprised to find how much dust could collect in an un-occupied house, although Addie had hired a woman to clean it before we came.  But in due time it was all done, even the wall paper in the parlour, which I had hired a woman to clean.

George, who was twelve years old, now went to work for the Home Bakery, in which your father was heavily interested.  The agreement was that he should be on hand at three o'clock A.M. but should return at nine A.M. for his breakfast and then rest.  This concientious (sic) child would say: "Now, Ma, wake me before three" which I did, although it hurt my feelings to have him get up so early.  On the part of his employer, however, the agreement was not kept.  After he had raced about town for hours delivering bread, he was given a piece of dry bread to eat, or perhaps a piece of very plain bun, and expected to attend to the team he had been using and do many other things.  Of it the boss was getting up a banquet, he was asked to go and help, or stay and make candy.  The boss liked him very much, and felt he was to be trusted in everything.

In speaking to a mutual friend of this man's utter disregard of the child's welfare and need of rest, she replied: - "Why, Aunt Mary, he works so hard himself that he never thinks of it!"  We shall see the result.

When Nephi was working at the flour mill in which your father was interested, one of our faithful workmen said to me: - "Nephi is working too hard and lifting too many sacks for a boy of his age."  I felt thankful to him for this information, although Nephi had uttered no complaint.  I spoke to you father with regard to the matter, but he was not very well pleased.  I had done my duty however.  But in the case of Georgie I had made no protest, although I suppose I made a statement of the facts in reference to the treatment he was receiving.  But to come out and asset plainly that "My boy cannot do this, or that" and take the backbone out of him, is not my idea of rearing children.  And then my circumstances were different to those of many others, and my Heavenly Father knew it.  He was watching over us.

During that summer, Aunt Net. Coslet came to occupy a furnished room in our house, and later Addie and George M. came to stay with us while their home was in course of erection.

One Monday morning, early in September, I was busy cleaning the cellar, and happened to look up, I saw a gentleman standing at Auntie's door and was impressed that he was a Deputy.  I ran upstairs to comb my hair, and then went back to my work again, my sleeves turned up to my elbows.  I did not mind that he should find me hard at work, but did not want to be caught with my hair uncombed.  Soon the man was at my door.  I bade my heart cease its throbbing and went to greet him as if I were please to see him, and bade him to be seated.  He declined, but asked me to be seated, saying, - "You are tired."  I called for a chair for him and spoke to him as if he had been a friend.  He answered pleasantly, and then in an apologetic manner gave me to understand that we should have to appear at court. When the date of the present interview was mentioned, I suggested that there was a mistake, and after a moment's thought he admitted that there was, and so we parted with a pleasant "good-morning."  I knew that it would not do for me to be fearful and hang back, for I was next in importance as a witness, to the defendant, and perhaps moreso.  So I prayed continually for courage, wisdom, and strength, for if I were to manifest fear it would give a guilty tone to the whole case.  Also I realized in what light I should be held by the other members of the family if your father had to go to prison for my sake.  In the meantime I was taken to Lawyer Richard's office and drilled as to what I must do.  He remarked to your father, "You need have no fear from this lady, she seems quite collected."  None of my children were subpoened (sic), but nearly all of Auntie's were, hired help included.

During the summer Nephi had expressed himself in some way as if he did not feel just right as to the way things were going.  Children have their eyes open and no doubt have their trials.  I asked myself the question "Have I said anything at any time to make my son think less of this principle that I have spent my life sustaining?"  In talking to him upon the subject, he said, - "You do nothing else but sustain it."  I thought, "That will do, I can stand that!"

About a week before the trial at court, George came home feeling sick, and instead of taking an interest in things, he hung around and could not eat.  He always seemed thirsty, but when he drank anything it caused nausea.

THE TRIAL

Finally the day of the Trial, arrived, and in order that no one would think that I was afraid, I went early.  Rose Thompson was with me.  She and her mother were living in one of our rooms at the time.  She had been subpoened (sic) as a witness at the same time that the papers were served on me.  I dressed in my best, which was a black cashmere dress, heavily trimmed with passementrie; with bonnet and parasol to match.  When we arrived at the County Building, the colored janitor had not yet completed his work, but I sat quietly where I was bidden until the officer whose business it was to do so, called out, "Hear ye, hear he," and court was opened.  I sat as still as I could, knowing that I must be calm and brave, however I might feel.  After a while it was my turn to go to the witness stand.  I had my fan along, and I do not know that it ever offered me better service, for it made me seem at ease, although my heart might be beating so that it almost choked me.

After swearing to what I had been instructed, I stuck to my text.  One thing to which I had to testify was, that defendant and I had not lived together for such a number of years.  The question was then asked, - "How is it that you have such feelings towards the defendant?"  I replied, "Because of his extreme kindness to me."  I think this answer touched their finer feelings.  I believe I had to relate about my first marriage.  There was an inference drawn that I was not married to the defendant, but the statement was not sustained; that we were not THEN living together as man and wife.  Another question was: - "Did you receive money from the defendant while you were in Provo?"  I said, "I had money of my own which I used at my own discretion."  Another question was, "How does the defendant pass his time with you?"  (Now, my dignity was aroused)  I answered, "Every other week, if it is any benefit to you." 

The prosecution now drew in it's horns and the council said, "Mrs. Morris, we did not intend to hurt your feelings."  They then asked me to produce a letter I had received from defendant during my absence from home.

The Court then adjourned until two o'clock.  At that hour, our case was "to be, or not to be."

When the Court resumed its operations, it decided that the charges against us had not been sustained, the defendant was discharged, and congratulations were in order.  One of the first to offer congratulations was Governor Murray, himself.

I received my witness fee, and went on my way rejoicing.  Not, however, without some unpleasant feelings.  The thought of being dishonored as a wife, after a marriage of thirty years or more, was neither comforting or flattering.  Your sister Addie was very angry about my position.

When the account of the Court proceedings appeared in the Evening News, Mrs. Sarah Maria Canon remarked, - "that it was the most ladylike defense she had ever read."

And so, I was free, at the expense of being separated from my husband!

Now, as the trial was over, and the dread of it removed, I turned my attention to my son George.  That evening Aunt Nett assisted me in giving him a good vapor bath, and the persperation (sic) poured from him, soaking his clothing.  This was satisfactory, and we then put him in a little bed in my room so that he might cool off by degrees.  The following morning, however, there was no improvement in his condition, so it was evident that something serious was the matter.  Your father sent Dr. Murphy to see him, who pronounced it a case of Typhoid Fever.  Dr. Murphy was a herbalist, and of our own faith, so that I was willing that he should take charge of the case.  I quarantined myself, with Georgie, in my bedroom; Addie, who with her husband was boarding with me, taking charge of the house with Emma Jenning's assistance.

I have seen fever patients, in delirium, rock and bang their heads in a manner that would have had serious consequences, if pillows had not been placed in position to protect them, but Georgie slept and rested, and did not seem to suffer much.

My private opinion is, that we, as a family having endeavored to keep the Word of Wisdom, is what made the case as light as it was, although his fever was the direct result of breaking that law by over-working and lack of food and rest.  There was only one period that I was uneasy as to his condition, and that was during October Conference, when dear Aunt Aggie sat up with me.  One strange feature of his illness was that of his feet being glazed, as if coated with thick brown varnish.  The fevers usually leave some trouble behind, and when he became convalescent it was discovered that he was knock-kneed.  It cost your father forty dollars from the braces to straighten them.  I did not feel very well towards the man who had caused the fever and subsequent deformity to my boy.  I thought the matter over a good deal, for this brother was a good man and one whom I highly esteemed, and I knew he had not intended to do any wrong.  At one time I thought I would speak to him upon the subject, but concluded that it might not do any good, so I asked the Lord to help me to forgive him.  Perhaps that is why George is not stronger and taller than any of his brothers.  When he returned to school, the doctor suggested that he should not take too many studies.

The following summer he went to work at the Brick Yard for a short time.  The first day, when he returned home in the evening he looked very disconsolate, but to my question as to the cause, he made no reply.  This was repeated for several days, but still he was sad and silent. Then I asked him, "Has any one done any wrong to you?"  "No."  "Have you done any wrong to anyone?"  "No."  "Then you must tell me what is the matter," I said.  Bursting into tears, he exclaimed: - "They are a set of danged beer bloats!"  Your father came over that evening and inquired how George got along at the Brick Yard.  I related the foregoing incident, and George was put elsewhere, perhaps at the Mill.

The following summer, Nephi worked at the Mill, I know, and I used to enjoy seeing him come down to the barn wearing overalls and jumber, driving the big team with a wagon load of grain, his sweet rosy face dusted with flour.

He looked just as attractive when, years later, he left the University, of his own accord, to take the place of Dean Swift, who had been collecting for the firm.  Mrs. Blanchard, a colored neighbor, used to admire him as he would ride off on horseback, dressed in a blue suit with a large soft light felt hat.  She said he reminded her of her old Kentucky home where she use to see fine looking young men on beautiful horses.

When he went to work at the Mil, I suggested that he should take a book in his pocket, and every spare moment that he could snatch at dinner hour, he should improve his mind.  I think the first book he took was the "Life of Heber C. Kimball."

When he began to collect for the Mil, I noticed that before the first of the month he would have his bills arranged in even rows across the dining-room floor, reaching from the lounge to the hearth rug.  I was amused, but said nothing, for I thought it looked business-like for a lad in his teens.

As time passed on, as I was sitting in our Ward Meeting, it was made known to me that my son Nephi would be called upon a mission in about two years from that time.  As I have before stated, he attended to his duties as a Deacon and so had gone on step by step until he was called upon to be a Mutual Improvement Missionary to the State of Idaho and Cache County, Utah.  He was instructed by the authority that called him to this work to stop off at Logan and to receive his endowments at the Temple there.  Thus far I accompanied him, as it was his right to do a little work that I wished to have attended to. We reached Logan after dark on a Thursday evening, and rising early in the morning, went to the Temple, he to receive his own endowments, and I to do work for the mother of Dr. W. F. Anderson, but owing to the water service being limited, I could not be baptized in her behalf, so took a name for the Temple instead.

Then, before we left, Nephi stood for his little brother, John Walker Morris, born October 17^th, 1854, to be sealed to his parents John T. and Mary Lois Walker Morris.

During a short interview with Apostle Marriner W. Merrill, president of the Temple, he invited me to stay a while and work in the Temple, but I told him I preferred returning to my family and being on hand at my class on Sunday morning.  This answer seemed to please him.

The following morning my son Nephi and I parted at the depot, he to fill his appointment wit his companion and college mate dear, Tommy Sloan, and I, going southward to Salt Lake City, reaching home in good time and ready for Sunday School the next morning.

He enjoyed his missionary labors and the following year had the pleasure of going over much of the same ground again, while canvassing for the Marble Yard.  While there, he met again his old friends V.P Wells, and Tommy Sloan, and made the acquaintance of many young people in Logan. 

In December, of this year, being about two years from the time referred to, he received a letter from "Box B" it was a call on a mission to the Southern States.  This, to be sure, nearly paralyzed him.  His father made a remark at that time, which I could hardly believe my ears had heard correctly when it was repeated to me.  Your father, whose every pulse beat for the Kingdom of God!  But here are his words, "You tell them, Nephi, that I cannot possibly spare you."  When I expressed my astonishment, Nephi said, "Now, Ma, don't you pray about it!" as much as to say, "What you pray for is pretty sure to come to pass."  But I did not fail to pray about it, for I did not want any many abut me who had been called upon a mission and did not respond to the call.

It was not long before arrangements were being made for his departure, but his father had him transferred to the European Mission.

I may here say that Nephi was very fond of argument.  He would argue with me just for the pleasure it afforded him.  I would sometimes tell him that he knew that what I told him was true, and he would add, "Why the table knows that it is true."  Again, he had often expressed a wish to travel, and I had told him, "If you will faithfully discharge every duty, you will have a chance to travel."

Sometimes he would tease me because of my unwillingness to go into debt, but his pleasantry at my expense did not change my mind.  At one time I had received $80 for a board bill.  I had spent some in paying my way to the Manti Temple, where I had wished to go for perhaps twenty years.  I had $20 left, which I had naturally put by for future use; I knew not what.  When Nephi received his call to go upon a mission, he owed some tithing and glad was I to lend him this money at this particular time.

He was tendered a delightful reception at the ward.  I think this was the first occasion upon which printed programs were used.  A host of friends and relatives came out to greet him and express their love and friendship, and even I received my share of congratulations.  Cousin Diantha Morris, in speaking of the affair afterwards, said, "His address was the sweetest thing on the program," and I know she was sincere in what she said.  His friend and fellow missionary, Tommy Sloan, had been called on a mission at the same time, and to the Southern States.

 

NEPHI LEAVES HOME FOR A FOREIGN MISSION

I think it was the second of December that he left Salt Lake.  Your sister Addie begged me not to go to the depot to see him off, but I used my own judgment in the matter, as I knew it might be years before I should see him again, if at all.  I also knew that I could control my feelings.  A number of his closest friends also were assembled to wish him Godspeed.

 Twice he came down from the car to kiss me goodbye, and as the train pulled out I turned away and gave vent to my feelings.  He had in his charge the wife of a missionary who was already away upon foreign shores.

As the train whizzed my darling from me, I bent my steps to the Valley House Cottage, to the bedside of your father's sister, Aunt Barbara Jones, and remained with her until, a few hours later, she passed away.  I stayed there until after the funeral, which occurred two days later, Sunday afternoon, December 4, 1892.  Little Winnie came home with us, to make her home with her Uncle Elias, as her mother had wished.

As Nephi journeyed toward Liverpool he sent postcards, which we received with great joy, and upon his arrival there, wrote me a long letter of twelve or fourteen pages.  The writing was beautiful, and so fine that it took me a long time to read it.  In this letter he said that he had met Apostle Brigham Young, then presiding over the European Mission, who told him that he had received the right kind of training to make a good missionary.  These words were like music to my ears and paid me for all my mother care and toil.

After spending a few days in Liverpool, Nephi went to London, where he met a very intelligent family by the name of Francis, a widow lady and two daughters, who were investigating the Gospel? the mother and one daughter soon afterward joining the Church.  He did not stay long in this city, as he received his appointment to labor in the Manchester Conference.

As he was bidding goodbye to Sister Francis, she, knowing that President Clawson was expecting to be released, said to Nephi: "Brother Morris, come back in a year and preside over us."  A prophetic utterance as it seemed, for this is just what happened.

He then went to labor in Manchester, the town where I with my brother and sister were reared and where we heard and received the Gospel.  He also traveled in Cheshire in some of the districts where my dear father had labored in the early days of the Church preaching this same Gospel, and where I had, as a child, visited his little flock.

While laboring in the Manchester Conference, Nephi suffered dreadfully from rheumatism, something he had never known at home.  A good sister named Davis said to him one day:  "Brother Morris, you had better go home."  "No," replied he, "not if I have to go on crutches."  His suffering did not, however, stop his progress in the work he had gone forth to accomplish nor prevent him gaining much valuable experience.  When he had labored in this conference a year, at breakfast one morning a letter awaited him from Apostle Anthon H. Lund, who had succeeded Apostle Young as President of the European Mission.  This communication requested his presence in London to preside over that Conference.  He had not been long there before President Lund asked him if he had a brother, and if he knew of any 'missionary timber?'  Here was a wide field of usefulness.

While in London he learned the art of buying and selecting books, and if he had a few shillings and could spend them at a secondhand bookstore he was one of the happiest boys in London.  At these stands he could buy some very rare books at a surprisingly low figure.  At one time he bought a history of Rome in several volumes, for a mere trifle.  The type was clear but the binding old fashioned.  These however, were rebound in red morocco for him by a young lady member of the branch who was a bookbinder by trade.  Accompanying the volumes was a polite note expressing the pleasure she felt at having this privilege.  President Lund would sometimes ask Nephi to select books for him, a mark of confidence, which he highly esteemed.  While in London he enjoyed associating with Brother Henry Dinwoodey and his wife, Victor P. Wells, Alonzo P. Kesler and many others.

During this time your brother George Q. was working at the marble yard at very moderate wages.  He had to rub marble and did not like the work, feeling that he was almost wasting his time, but I urged him to stick to it, telling him that in the end it would turn out all right even if he did have unpleasant things to meet at the moment.

When Katie was a little girl, she saw me one day trying to puzzle out the way to make a block for a patchwork quilt, which I had not worked at for some years.  She seemed to catch the idea instantly, which made me think she had good perception and artistic taste.  When she was about 14, we let her take lessons in drawing and painting from a Miss Wincott, from whom your sister Addie had taken similar lessons some time previous.  Her first work was a study of water lilies painted upon a large felt piano cover.  She was highly complimented upon this by those who had seen these beautiful flowers resting upon the surface of the water.  The next piece was a group of marguerites and wild roses, painted upon the ends of the large cover.  Her teacher was surprised at her progress, but I was not, for I knew that she inherited this gift from her Grandmother Morris.

Her next effort was a scene in Winter Quarters, where the Saints halted after their expulsion from Nauvoo.  Then followed the study of Conway Castle, with its towers in bold relief against the blue sky and surrounded by tall trees and foliage.  This painting was honored by a place in the Primary stake fair.  It was a large canvas painted in oil colors and placed in a handsome gilt frame.  Your father looked very happy and rather proud one evening, when he brought our friend Brother William H. Sherman over to look at it.  It was of special interest to your father, as his father had built the bridge at Conway Castle, and I think he, himself, had worked upon it.  Another painting Katie did, which we much admired, was a scene from Yellowstone Park, a landscape, with beautifully tinted autumn foliage and two deer standing at the brink of a river.  The expression in the eyes of these animals was as if they had suddenly heard a sound as of some danger approaching.

In her early teens, during the summer vacation, I put her in the kitchen to learn the mysteries of housekeeping, including laundry work and fruit preserving.  She soon became an expert at making candy and was honored by being asked to become a member of the C.C. Club (Chum Cooking Club) when that organization only numbered four or five members.  The daughters of Heber J. Grant and also Rose Jenkins, Ray Grant, Rye James, and Julia Howe were among the members.

It was a happy day for us when she had completed her work in the L.D.S.U. and received her diploma.  The graduates all went to have their pictures taken in a group.  I remember a rainstorm came on before they returned and President Smith's boys brought her home in their conveyance.  Our dining room presented a pretty picture as they came in out of the rain.  A pleasant fire burned in the grate, and the table was set with a plentiful supply of cake and ice cream in honor of the occasion, while the air was perfumed by the beautiful flowers which had been presented to her at the college.  We all rejoiced to think that the anxiety of the term of school years was over for both student and mother, at least for the present.

When the pictures were finished, Miss Rena Baker, one of the class, was looking at the picture with Kate, and they were in ecstasy to think that they had worked so hard and had been successful.  They were so happy that it was refreshing to look at them.  The following year Kate took the Normal Course and received another certificate.

The C.C. Club, which originally had for its object the promotion of good cooking, as years rolled on resolved itself into a Literary and Social Club and extended its membership to young men as well as young ladies.  The members were from the best families in the Church, young people who, at home and at school, every hour of the day, were taught in the principles of the Gospel, and the purity of their young hearts made this social intercourse most enjoyable.  The club would meet at certain intervals at the home of each of the girls in turn, she being hostess upon the occasion, preparing the refreshments and superintending the program, which was quite an undertaking for a young lady when the club met with from fifteen to twenty members.  But they always felt that the pure enjoyment it afforded paid for all the trouble.  The girls would remember each other's birthdays in the kindest manner, sending some dainty piece of needlework or a choice book as an expression of their love for each other.  At one time the club had a picture taken, the members standing upon the steps of the City and County Building.  When they were standing side by side, I predicted that a certain number of them would be married within a given number of years-I think it was five-and I think it came about as we said.  The young men were continually going or returning from missions and one could feel the Spirit of God which burned within their hearts when they called to say goodbye or to visit us upon their return.

Here are the names of some of Katie"s particular friends:  Rose Jenkins, Ray Grant, Maria James, Gwen Lewis, Julia Howe, etc.  Among the boys were sons of Rodney C. Badger and some of the sons of President Joseph F. Smith, and several others who attended the Latter-day Saints schools.

After a time I assumed the expense of Katie"s education, feeling that your father had done well his part, but still I wished her to have further advantages, if possible.  In order to do this I continued to take boarders, and there were always students who were anxious to stay with us.  Some would come two years in succession.  One of these was Miss Nellie B. of Logan.  At the same time Miss A. was with us.  The latter was such a quiet girl that you would not know that she was in the house until you saw her, seated with her book in her hand.  She was as good as she was quiet.  We had another very pretty girl from Logan boarding with us, a Miss C. and she and George would play together like children.  Cousin Zaidee stayed with us during the time that Nephi was away upon his mission.

George was about 15 years old at this time, and one day, after dinner, being in a frolicsome mood, took hold of Miss A's hand and drew her across the dining room and kitchen, and led her down into the cellar.  She, being so quiet, submitted without resistance.  Then he served Miss Nell in the same way, and locked them both in.  I laughed till I ached, to think that such a stripling could pull the two girls across the house and lock them in the cellar.

One evening Miss Nell wanted to dress George up like a girl.  He, in his quiet way, yielded to their wishes and donned a dress and ulster and lady's hat.  They also painted his cheeks (he needed no powder) and when his disguise was complete we started off to visit your sister Addie.  As we approached her home, a consultation was held as to who should present our 'lady friend' to her.  I did not think I could, for I could hardly restrain my merriment as it was, but Miss Nell said she would undertake it.  Addie then lived opposite the Catholic Sisters' School.  We found her, as was her wont, after she had taken her babies upstairs to bed, seated in her bedroom.  Miss Nell presented George to his sister as "Miss."  She had no suspicion whatever, but thought to herself, "How that girl has disfigured herself by cutting her hair so short!"  I was almost convulsed while trying to keep from laughing.  Presently George M. came in and was duly presented, but as soon as he grasped our guest's hand, he knew that it belonged to a man.  We wanted to repeat the joke, but learned that it is unlawful for men to dress in women's clothes.

Nephi was now in the third year of his missionary life.  Your father sent him money, and George, with his small earnings, and I with my boarders, did our part also to make up the sum required.  Some time during the winter before his return, George said that I must not send any more, and that he and his father would attend to it.  I was doing it, however, with a great deal of pleasure.  I think in the month of June before his return, I had received a postal card from him posted at the Eiffel Tower in Paris, representing that remarkable piece of engineering.  I had it with me while attending the Reaper's Club one evening, and after the meeting showed it to Sister Elmina Taylor, president of the General Board of the Y.L.M.I.A.  She told me that she had heard that Nephi was as or almost as eloquent a speaker as B.H. Roberts.  As Sister Taylor was a woman renowned for her sincerity, I valued this information as coming from her, although it was quite a surprise to me. 

In May I had begun to prepare for Nephi's return.  George thought I did some wonderful things, hardly understanding how it could be done without drawing more than my usual allowance, but I managed it somehow.  I was selling a little milk at the time, and George and Winnie, who was staying with me, paid for their board, and I suppose a blessing followed my efforts.  I had the boys' room fitted up to the best of my ability, and the dining room covered with a handsome carpet, besides having the whitewash of thirteen years scraped from the walls and afterward  neatly papered. 

Nephi, however, did not come as soon as expected, on account of some delay in the arrival of an elder from Utah to take his place.  I was very anxious to see him, as he was still suffering severely from rheumatism, so much so that at one time he could not write.

 

At last we got word that he would be home upon a certain day in August.  Addie came from Forest Dale to be there to welcome him.  At night, finding that he did not come as expected, she camped on our dining room floor, but in the morning, as he had not arrived, she regretfully returned home, and the following afternoon he came. 

 

NEPHI RETURNS FROM HIS MISSION

Father ate supper with us.  It seemed rather sad that he should be obliged to almost steal into our home in order to welcome the return of his son, but I had become used to many things by this time.  In the evening Effie, Addie and George M. and their children were here and we had a joyful time.

His face and voice were wonderfully sweet and he did not let his suffering mar the joy of our meeting.

The next day was Sunday and his address from the stand in the Tabernacle was pleasantly commented upon by all who heard it.

Before his return, Sister Francis had expressed a wish that she and her daughter Mary might dine with us on the first Sunday after his arrival, so after the meeting at the Tabernacle, Effie, Ed, Aunt Cora, Sister Francis and her daughter dined with us.  Your sister Winnie came in, I remember, and asked me if I could write something for her husband's sister Jennie Purdee, who had lost her only daughter by violent death.  I told her I thought I might be able if I could get some particulars of the sad event.  I afterward wrote the following verses in the hope that they might perhaps offer a crumb of comfort to the poor mother's wounded heart.

 

A POEM

 

A birdling sought my nest,

And filled my soul with love

And oft I pressed it to my breast;

                "Twas given from above.

 

And in my daily walk

                It prattled near my feet;

And when its infant lips could talk

                My joy would seem complete.

 

Months and years reeled by

                And she to girlhood grew;

A companion sweet had I..

                My love grew stronger, too.

 

She was quick of thought and eye,

                Her figure lithe and tall,

Her fingers deft and spry"

                She lent a hand to all.

 

She loved to help God's work,

                The young folks loved her, too;

Whatever part was given her,

                That part she loved to do.

 

One night her father dreamed

                (Which filled his soul with woe,

For sure to him it seemed.)

                Our darling soon must go.

 

We guarded her full well

                And kept her near our side,

For fear some unseen ill,

                Our loved one might betide.

 

One day she looked so tired

                And asked if she might bathe?

So on her horse she hied

                And down the road she sped.

 

I watched her all the while

                As far as I could see

No more I saw her smile

                She ne'er came back to me.

 

Until at evening hour

                They brought her body home,

The whirlpoo's cruel power

                Had claimed her for its own.

 

My God!  And shall I say

                That Thou has dealt me wrong

Oh no, to Thee I'll pray,

                For Thou cans't make me strong.

 

This treasure all was thine

                Thou only lent it me,

That I might call it mine

                Then, yield it back to Thee.

 

I know that I shall meet her,

                If I but faithful prove.

In perfect peace I'll greet her,

                And with unbounded love.

 

She's free from all temptation

                The Father's hand doth guide,

While I'm in tribulation,

                In bliss she doth abide.

 

Then let me thank my God,

                For all His loving care,

And kiss the chastening rod

                He wisely doth prepare.

 

                                                Sympathetically inscribed by

                                                Mary L. Morris

                                                                                                1895

 

 

A BIG RECEPTION

Thinking that other members of the family would like to meet Nephi, I arranged to give a reception and invite all the family.  I know that one appreciated the idea, and that was your sister Winnie, who told me that her little children had said that "Auntie had invited all the children to Nephi's party."  I could see that it pleased dear Winnie.

 

So I went to the office to tell your father what I thought of doing.  He said, "I have no money," but by the expression of his face I could see that he would aid me in my project.

 

I bought a ham for sandwiches and lemons for lemonade and made several cakes.  Also, I suppose, we had fruit.  The ham we boiled and then ran it through the sausage machine.  It was quite a large crowd that filled the parlor and dining room, and your father was pleased.  He arranged all his grandchildren in a line to make a Grand March through the rooms, the oldest grandchild taking the lead and the youngest who could walk, bringing up the rear.  I do not know if it was Winnie's or Addie's baby, or rather toddler, who ended the Grand March, but Mamie Swan would be the lead, with, I think, Elias Ashton next, as Eddie was away upon an outing.  Willie Swan was a few days older than Eddie, but Elias, being taller, perhaps, your father put him next to Mamie.  I was in the kitchen, but I thought it was a novel idea, and the line seemed to extend clear through the two rooms.  I am glad now, in looking back, that I got up this reception, for at least some members of the family appreciated my efforts, and a few days later we gave another for all the cousins.

 

This summer Katie received her Normal Certificate and was anxious to start work as a schoolteacher.  Hearing of an opening at Taylorsville, Nephi took her there to see a Brother Palmer, who had the matter in charge.  He appeared favorably impressed and called the following Saturday to see her with regard to the matter.  In glancing round the parlor he noticed and admired her paintings, remarking that he would like to own such.  Katie, being a shy unassuming girl, one had to be in her company some time in order to appreciate her, and I could see that the longer he stayed, the more anxious he became to secure her services.  Before he left they had entered into an agreement that Katie should go to Taylorsville to teach.  Her friend, Miss Rena Baker, was also teaching this year, and when she and Katie met, after teaching a week each, and related their varied experiences, it was quite interesting to hear them talk.  Before the term was finished Katie had the heaviest part of the work, for he who should have been her principal went and got married, or some such matter.

 

Katie boarded at Brother Palmer's home, and while she was there, he was called upon a mission.  He remarked that Katie's influence had been quite helpful to him. 

 

Nephi did not, by any means, leave his rheumatism behind him in England, but suffered intensely.  It was several weeks before he was able to work.  Many trials followed.  He was working with his father and several good positions were offered him, but I always urged him to stick by his father, no matter how disadvantageous it might seem at the moment.

 

He was soon called into the Mutual work.  That body being in need of funds, a movement was set on foot for the members to donate supplies for a luncheon, to be given during October Conference, the proceeds to go to the M.I.A.   He was one of the prime movers in the affair.  During the winter a grand fair, which they called a Kirmess, was given at the Salt Lake Theatre.  In this also he worked very energetically.  Later he was chosen counselor to the president of the Salt Lake Stake M.I.A, and also, under protest, to preside over the ward M.I.A.  He was, at the time, teacher of the Theological class in the Sunday School, and a home missionary.  He was also sought after to go to different parts of the state on the "stump" for some political parties but his father and I did not think it becoming in a returned missionary to engage in such MUD as politics.

 

I was invited out with him a good deal that winter and was as happy as a young girl whose sweetheart has just come home.

 

George, at this time, was spending his evenings in an aimless sort of way with a crowd of young folks who, while nice young people, in many ways had no particular aim in life.  I asked him to quit, for I thought he could put his time to better account than spending it with a lot of thoughtless young people, and I know he thought so, too, but when a chum is whistling outside, it is hard for a boy to resist going out.  There was one boy in particular who had a good deal of money and not much backbone.  I made this a matter of prayer, and this boy drifted out of the crowd.  I made it a matter of fasting and prayer also that George would become more serious.  Not long after, he asked me, "Ma, do you think you could stand it if I took a four years' course at the University?"  "If your father is able to provide for us, I can," I replied.  So he went to school and on Saturdays and during vacation, worked to earn his clothing and books.

 

He also did a good work in the ward, first as Deacon and afterwards as a Teacher.  When his father ordained him a Teacher, George thought he had made a mistake.  He was called to be a Sunday School teacher and also to act as librarian in the Sunday School.  In the M.I.A. of the ward he acted as secretary, and later, as president.

 

When Katie had taught for a year, I asked her in what she felt herself most deficient.  She said she would like to go to the U. of U. and take a kindergarten course, feeling the need of this instruction in her work among the children.  So she started the kindergarten course and continued it for two years.  During the summer vacation she took a course in kitchen gardening, which would be a lovely thing to interest the little children with whom she expected to labor.

 

As two of my children were born in February, George Q. on the 20^th of the month and Addie on the 26^th, in the early part of the year 1898 I conceived the idea that it would be a nice thing to celebrate both events on George's birthday; also to include in the festivities a farewell party to my oldest grandson, Edward Morris Ashton, who had been called to go on a mission to Germany.  Feeling that your father would like to be present, as was his right, I broached the subject to him on the morning of the occasion when an opportunity presented itself for me to speak to him as he went out.  I told him what I was going to do, and that he was at liberty to come if he wished to do so.  As he had not been living with us for a number of years, I felt a little diffident at asking him, by nature being rather independent, but in the light of events which were soon to transpire, I am glad that I did not allow my pride to overcome my better judgment. 

 

A Miss Chambers was boarding with us, also a Miss Lettie Foulger, both students of the U. of U. and of our faith, as lovely girls as could be.  I was without help at the time, and we began our preparations only the day before.  The cake was the first consideration, as that must be made at least one day before being cut, so sweet little Miss Foulger prepared the nuts while Miss Chambers and I saw to the other ingredients and mixed the cake.  I think I baked it.  These dear girls had been making a red silk throw for the large chair in the parlor and this had to be finished.  The next day I had a woman to help me, and by 2 p.m., the turkey was dressed and in the oven, while the vegetables were ready to cook and the ice cream in course of preparation.

 

We were about twenty-six in number, including Effie and Addie's families when we sat down to the repast, which all enjoyed.  Your father made some remarks in a happy mood and I think Eddie also spoke.

 

Just previous to this, Addie had given a lovely supper for her nephew Eddie at her home at Forest Dale.  I can see the table so nicely set, and the salmon, with a slice of lemon, upon each plate, which served as one of the fish courses, and remember how happy your father looked as he sat down to supper with us.  After supper we took the car and came back to the Fifteenth Ward, where a farewell benefit was given in Eddie's honor in the meetinghouse.  I recollect that it was on the 26^th, Addie's birthday, that Eddie started upon his mission.

 

DEATH OF ELIAS MORRIS

On the 14^th of the next month, your father dined with President Angus M. Cannon and seemed to be particularly happy.  Afterwards, he went to the Co-op Furniture Company to attend a meeting of the Welsh Eisteddfed Association.  In crossing a room, he mistook the open entrance to an elevator shaft for the door of a room, and fell upon the open top of the elevator, several feet below, his walking cane, which was in his hand, perhaps breaking his fall a little.  If I had the book here, which contains my journal of that period, I could give particulars of every day from this time to the day he was laid away, but my journal is a thousand miles from here, and I do not feel that I can go through that painful ordeal again, so shall write what seems best to me.

After I had retired to rest that night, word came over the telephone that Nephi was needed up town.  Soon after George Q. came in, and in a very quiet manner, informed me that his father had been hurt.  He was careful not to give my feelings too great a shock, and later told me that his father was almost killed, but that through medical skill he was partially restored.

Soon after, the carriage conveying him home arrived.  Nephi, I think, took us in to see him.  A bed had been brought down into the parlor for him to lie on.  I did not ply him with questions, as I could tell that he was in no fit condition to talk.  I do not think that he understood anything clearly, but seemed to suffer dreadfully both in mind and body.  He wanted to have his hands held continually, so that I think he imagined he was still falling.  Nephi was with his father a great deal of the time, sitting on the bed or holding his hands.  Your sister Barbara, George Q. and other members of the family would take turns to hold his hands.  It seemed to help Barbara so much when she could do it, and I was so glad that she could be there.  Your Auntie remained in the dining room, only seeing him at intervals, and I was in my own home, going over occasionally, but careful not to obtrude, or be in the way of anyone who wished to be near him.  Many friends called and many elders administered to him.  At one time a prayer circle was held around his bed, Brother William Harmon being mouth and using the Welsh language.  This took me back in memory many, many years.  After this administration he seemed better, but the doctor said it was only a matter of time.  I stayed there nearly all that night, seated upon the stairs, which were opposite the parlor door.

On Wednesday morning, I think, President George Q. Cannon called and spoke to us very kindly as he passed through the house.  The next morning, Thursday, I went over early to see how father was.  The door was closed, but upon entering I found my son Nephi and George Q. with Brother Hull, standing at the foot of the bed, and your father in his last death struggle.  It was so terrible that I could not bear to remain in the room.  I had seen many persons depart this life, but never witnessed so powerful a struggle with the Conqueror as this!  It seemed like some powerful mechanism giving its final throbbing before its final stop!  Thus showing the extraordinary mental and physical strength of the good man who was now to be conquered by the monster Death.  I went into the dining room and sat down with the folks.

Arnold also was with us.  While talking to me he said that your father had told him that in the event of his departure, it was his wish that Nephi should take charge of the business.  Your father had confided all of his business affairs to Arnold, but he had entrusted the management of the marble yard to Nephi.  It was a great comfort to us to have Arnold with us at this trying moment; he was so kind, so unassuming and so just.

About 10 o'clock, Brother Hull came out of the parlor with tears in his beautiful eyes and told us that the end had come.  Aunty remained in the dining room and after awhile, I returned home.  Josie was one who felt this blow keenly; she had been so closely associated with her father in her short life.  She came over with me and stayed day and night until after the funeral.  I was thankful that I could be of some consolation to her.  Katie had her deep sorrow also.

Cousin Florence D. Morris was one of the first callers.  She remarked to me, "I knew that you would be brave," but for all that, I burst into tears in her presence.  Josie laid upon the lounge in the dining room, and I sat before the fire.  Callers continued to come.  After a few hours arrangements had been made for the funeral.  I threw our dining room open for those who were sewing for the other family.  I, wearing black habitually, needed no sewing.  Our little kitchen seemed pleasant as it was prepared to receive all who needed refreshment, while giving their services in this time of need.  It seems to me that it was our friend Miss Susie Russell who took charge of the sewing.  Your sister Barbara also was very helpful and active in the work for her family.  I remember that Cousin Diantha Morris was happy in rendering what assistance she could and made a pleasant remark with reference to the occasion. 

At night we received callers in the parlor.  Your father's counselors in the Bishopric of the Fifteenth Ward, Brothers Joseph R. Morgan and Carl A. Badger, came and spoke to us in the kindest and most cheerful manner.  Bishop Burton, an old-time friend, also called, and Sister Francis and her daughter, Sister Kelly.  On Saturday morning your sister Effie and her husband called and later in the day, my president in the Primary board, Sister Camilla C. Cobb, and my fellow counselor, Sister Lydia Ann Wells.  Also my fellow club member Sister R.K. Thomas.

Sunday, March 20^th, was set for the funeral, and the time for viewing the remains from 10 a.m. until noon.  Then, the large concourse of friends having taken their last look, the family was called together.  Brother Angus M. Cannon taking charge, we bowed in prayer.  I noticed Elias seated in the recess between the piano and the fireplace, and shaking hands with him, I kissed him.  He, being your father's eldest son, my feelings were peculiar.  I also greeted other members of the family, and leaning upon the arm of my son Nephi, I, with my family, passed the dear remains, they to look for the last time on earth upon their honored father, and I, upon the good man, my benefactor, with whom I had passed the greater part of my life.  We then passed out and now the elder family members were left alone with their dead.

In our parlor were many friends who had come over after viewing the remains.  Among them were Victor P. Wells and Henry M. Dinwoodey and his wife, who were all in London with Nephi and engaged in missionary labor in the same conference.  We were pleased to have their company.

The funeral convened in the Tabernacle at 2 p.m., the time the meeting is held usually.  The building was magnificently decorated.  I do not think it was ever more so for a funeral.  The casket and stand were loaded with floral tributes of elegant designs from quorums, wards, associations and friends.  A blanket of flowers was presented by the Cambrian Association, I think.  An elegant harp was another token of esteem, and I know a tribute was sent by the High Priests quorum, of which he was president.  The Sugar Company, of which also he was president and I believe one of its founders, in connection with George Q. Cannon, presented an elegant and costly memoir or testimonial of his worth, showing the high esteem in which he was held.  The great building was crowded in all parts, as far as I, being thickly veiled and seated in front, could observe.

President George Q. Cannon was the principal speaker.  He referred to your father as a builder of architecture, a builder of commonwealth, and he might have said, if he did not, a promoter of labor for the working man.  In any case he referred to him in high terms of praise.  President A.M. Cannon was another speaker.  He said there were few men better known than Elias Morris.  He loved your father very dearly.  The funeral cortege was of great length.  At the cemetery I did not alight from the carriage.  Although it was drawn up close to the grave, I could hardly get sight of the casket because some thoughtless children crowded around the grave.  The grave was literally covered with flowers.  It was a great comfort to me at this time of trial to have the kind of sons that the Lord has blessed me with to lean upon. 

The next morning when I awoke, I felt a calm peace that is born of God pervading my heart and home.  Before I awoke, I saw your father standing a few feet from the bedside.  He was dressed in a neat grey suit and looked calm but serious.  Feeling a little timid, I roused myself and he was gone!  I have often regretted that I did not remain still, so that if he had anything to communicate to me, he might have done so.

 

A TRIBUTE TO ELIAS MORRIS

 

Born June 29, 1825                                                                                               Died March 17, 1898

 

My poor pen is ignorant, yes, and very weak.

How can I paint the picture, or the merits speak

Of this good man  The father, brother, friend

Many tongues now bless him, and hearts in sorrow blend.

 

                                He sought not for vain glory

                                                Such as mortal man can give;

                                The poor may tell his story,

                                                For in their hearts he'll live.

 

                                His hand was ever open

                                                To the feeble, sick and poor.

                                The afflicted and heart-broken

                                                He turned not from his door.

 

                                He has borne the Gospel message

                                                Over mountains, hill and dale

                                To castle, hut and cottage,

                                                Through streams and lowly vale.

 

                                The humble of old Cambria

                                                He sought with heart and hand

                                Leaving all his loved ones

                                                In Columbia's favored land.

 

                                No purse or scrip had he;

                                                In the name of Israel's God

                                He traversed land and sea

                                                Bearing the precious word.

 

                                He builded for mankind

                                                The structure firmly stands

                                His skill and care combined,

                                                Made work for many hands.

 

                                Most faithfully he trod

                                                In duty's path, though steep,

                                Holding the Iron Rod

                                                Till life's sands were complete.

 

                                And with this mortal coil

                                                He laid his armor down

                                There comes an end to toil

                                                Where waits a brilliant crown.

                               

                                He had no party line,

                                                He loved mankind alike,

                                His deeds with luster shine,

                                                He firmly stood for right.

 

 

                                The Father called him home

                                                Another place to fill,

                                At a faithful son's return,

                                                Each heart with joy will thrill.

 

According to your father's express wish, Nephi now assumed the management of the business of Elias Morris & Sons Company and found it no easy task, it being heavily involved in debt.

It was a great responsibility for his 27-years-old shoulders to carry, and fortunate for him that he had been trained in almost every branch of the business.  I felt thankful that he had listened to the advice I had given him during the last few years, to stand by his father"come weal, come woe"no matter how great the disadvantage might seem at the moment.

When Nephi was 10-years-old, he went with your father out to Park City, where the latter was building the Ontario Silver Mine for Mr. Robert C. Chambers.  Nephi's work was to cover and uncover the bricks, which were in course of manufacture.  Also to "stir the animal," as the man who had charge of the horse used to run the machine for grinding the clay for the bricks, used to say.

From this time and perhaps before, Nephi always spent his vacations in and about his father's works, where there were always little jobs that a young boy could do all of which gave him an insight into the workings of the business and became a source of valuable information now.

When he was about 16, he delivered for the Working Men's Co-op, in which your father was heavily interested, and later ran the mill, which at that time was the only roller mill this side of Chicago.  Afterward, he canvassed and collected for that and the marble yard, also.

When he returned from his European mission, he went to work in the marble yard, and soon his father wished him to take the management of it, but he declined at that time to assume as much control as his father wished.  But now that his duty placed him in this responsible position, he had a practical insight into all the outward and inward workings of the business in all its branches.

Your father has made it an object of his life to create employment for the working classes, and any effort to open up home industries claimed his support.  Here are some of the business ventures in which he was interested: fire brick, fire clay, imitation marble, asphaltum walks, cement walks and mercantile projects of various kinds.

Nephi took hold of the reins with an earnest desire to improve conditions, and after awhile, by the blessings of our Heavenly Father added to his own untiring energy and patience, the business was raised above the drowning watermark. 

Brother Arnold Giauque, the ever faithful and true, remained in the office several months, adjusting accounts and other important business matters, and then, at his request, his resignation was accepted at a meeting of the stockholders of the Elias Morris & Sons Company.  He had spent nearly thirty years of his life in your father's employ, having entered it when only 15-years-old, at the time that your father and his chosen partner, Brother Samuel L. Evans, were in business upon the site upon which the Deseret News Building now stands.  A piece of canvas large enough to cover a gravestone was stretched upon four poles and there Brother Evans filled the triple position of partner, stonecutter and office boy, while your father was out contracting, superintending and attending to the general business.  At this point our friend Arnold entered the services of the firm of Morris & Evans, remaining there during thirty years of his young manhood, always a faithful servant, able manager, perfect gentleman and true servant of God.  May the blessing of the Lord attend him in all his undertakings and descend upon his family, also.

While Brother Evans was attending to the marble yard, your father was taking contracts upon a large scale.  He built the Eagle Emporium on the southwest corner of First South and Main Street; the building on the corner directly east of it; and, I think the building on the southeast corner, opposite the Emporium.  He did the best work upon the Salt Lake Theatre.  While engaged upon this, he was seriously hurt by over lifting, and came near death's door.  After his return from his mission, nearly forty years ago, he built Z.C.M.I. and worked several years upon the Salt Lake Temple while that was in course of construction.  After he had completed building the Ontario Mine at Park City, the Salt Lake Herald, then a respectable newspaper, devoted a whole page in describing the work, saying that it would stand as long as the world endured.

Your father's funeral occurred on March 20^th and two weeks later, Fast Day, the first Sunday in April, the Stake Presidency, with several of the apostles came to the ward to reorganize the Bishopric.  They chose for Bishop in your father's place, Joseph R. Morgan, who had been First Counselor to your father.  For his Counselors, Rodney C. Badger, your father's Second Counselor, and Nephi L. Morris.  When asked to express himself, your brother Nephi said, "Of course I will accept the position, but I am awfully disappointed."  Many of his friends felt as he did, that in a measure he would be lariated, or lassoed out and that there would be an end to progress.  I said but little, but I thought it would be a valuable experience for him, although he had had a similar experience while presiding over the London Conference.  My nephew, Wilford O. Ridges, while speaking to me a short time afterward, said, "If the authorities want a man to preside over a stake or a mission or to fill any other important office, they will call him from wherever they find him."  We shall see

George and Kate continued to attend the U. of U. making good progress with their studies, and Miss Foulger and Miss Chambers also attended the university and remained with me as boarders.

Nephi, George and Kate, thinking to improve our home, begged me to let them remove the fence from the front of the house.  Although I had painted it a nice brown shade the summer previous, I consented, but I foresaw some trouble, in spite of the fact that stock was not allowed upon the street.  They took the lawn up, a heavy job, for it had been growing eighteen years.  Then George Q. dug the ground deep and fine.  While engaged upon a long strip on the north side of the house, a cow got in and sunk knee deep into the soft moist earth.  But dear George repaired the damage, a patient smile upon his face, and continued the laborious work every evening.  Then several loads of new soil were hauled and spread, and upon this he planted lawn grass and Dutch Clover.  After much care and constant watering, the lawn came up.  I asked him, "Who will weed it, George?"  He answered pleasantly, "Oh, the lawn mower will take care of that, Ma."

 

[MISSING SECTIONS 279-281; starting with Section 282]

 

Just completed a three-year term of service in the Utah Militia.  He had joined the militia with the consent of his father and the president of the stake, Brother Angus M. Cannon, and I did not feel that any more was required of him just then.  I told him that many could and would go to fight who had no special aim in life and not even employment wherewith to earn their daily bread.  I thought he could serve his country and his God in many and more useful channels, for in serving the latter, he was better able to serve the former.

In December of this year, your sister Addie's children had an attack of scarlet fever.  It being impossible to get help, everyone being afraid of the dread disease, I proffered to go until the quarantine should be lifted.  I had a great deal of pleasure in my duties while there, although closely confined to the nursery with the sick children.  Although Addie was doing all her own housework, she house cleaned the kitchen, cooked us lovely meals and at night, would throw herself down in her clothing at the foot of the bed of her sick little ones to catch what rest she could.  George M. would light a fire in her bedroom for me, and I was excused from the sickroom to go and sleep there for the night.  Part of the time the children's faces were as red as the scarlet nightgowns they wore.  Addie, being a careful mother and knowing the fever to be a treacherous disease, feared they might have trouble with their ears, so I volunteered to make them nightcaps.  I remembered how to make them, having seen them in England in my childhood.  They were much appreciated and considered cute.

In the morning I would hasten to the nursery as early as I could, and when later I went downstairs to breakfast, little Miss Gene, her beautiful eyes beaming from her intelligent little face, would try to entertain me by drawing pictures upon the blackboard or telling me some stories that she had read.  When dinner time came, she would bring me a delicious repast placed upon a salver and like a real little waiting maid, would rap upon the door but did not come in.

Master George, then but 9-years-old, was quarantined with us because he had been exposed to the disease, but he was not sick at all.  To amuse himself, as he could not play with the other children, he made himself a pond in the spacious garden and had a good time skating.  Besides doing the chores outside, he would help his mother in the kitchen, good little lad that he was, and clean the linoleum upon the kitchen floor every morning so beautifully that you could eat off it, as the saying goes.  He also made as nice cookies as I have ever tasted.  During this stay, my esteem for my daughter Addie increased greatly as I noted her fidelity to her family, her life of self-denial and disregard for her personal comfort, and the energy with which she attended to the details of the house in a manner which no money could hire anyone to equal.  When she would throw her weary body, dressed in her working attire, at the foot of the bed of her sick children, to catch what rest she could, I would say in my heart, "God bless such a wife."  And so the pleasant days sped on until the disease had run its course, the quarantine was removed and I was at liberty to return to my family.

When Addie took me home she somehow managed, with the rest of the family, to get me a handsome silver set of four pieces 'sugar bowl, cream jug, spoon holder and butter dish" for my Christmas present.

In the week between Christmas and the New Year, a teachers' convention was held in Salt Lake City, which was attended by teachers from all parts of the state.  We had many visitors, but for all that, I had determined to entertain some old ladies of the ward, a project that I had had in mind for some time.  These ladies were Mrs. Sarah Unger, a lady who had entertained your father many times while he was on his mission in Wales; Mrs. Sarah Williams; Mrs. Ann Duncanson; Mrs. Mary Wright, and dear Aunt Nancy Morris.  Also another lady whose name, I think, was Davis, but she being out of town, I was disappointed in not having the pleasure of her company.  I felt that I wanted to make these dear old ladies happy for a few hours and also to hear them talk.

I lighted a large fire in the parlor grate and kept it burning during the afternoon, so that the room might be warm and comfortable.  Sister Unger, who was a large woman, we placed in the large upholstered chair, telling her that it was the Bishop's chair.  This pleased her very much, for she had ministered many times to his comfort, indeed.  When she came to this country, he had gone as far as Ogden to meet her and bring her right to our house to stay.  I told them I wanted to hear them talk, but they declined, so I entertained them as well as I could with an original poem, a selected one, and a love song or two, and with cheerful conversation, I tried to make them forget their cares, aches and pains for a little while.  Then we took them into the warm dining room, where we served a hot supper and the best tea that I knew how to make.

At their departure I slipped a little gift into the hand of each and took such to the car as went home that way, feeling very thankful that it had been in my power to show a little respect to these time-tried veterans of the Church of Christ.

When your sister Katie was a baby and I, not feeling very well and strong, this dear Sister Unger would come and take care of her for awhile or rock little Georgie to sleep.  The following verses were written for and in behalf of Sister Unger, upon the death of her husband:

 

Thou art gone, and we are left

In this wide world, of thee bereft?

Our grief is hard to bear.

Our hearts are struck with sorrow sore

                                                                To think that thou will come no more

                                                                                Our joys and woes to share.

 

                                                                It seems to me I cannot live

                                                                And nothing can I do but grieve

                                                                                While parted from my mate.

                                                                The children cling around me so

                                                                Oh, mother dear, why did he go

                                                                                And leave us to our fate?

 

                                                                There's nothing lacking on thy part

                                                                To make thee precious to my heart

                                                                                While passing o'er life's wave.

                                                                Thy virtue and integrity

                                                                Thy patience, and sincerity?

                                                                                Thy soul was true and brave.

 

                                                                Thy heart was true to Israel's God

                                                                Still holding fast the Iron Rod

                                                                                And strove to lead us, too.

                                                                There's nothing that thy Father asked

                                                                That made thee feel too heavy tasked

                                                                                You loved His work to do.

 

                                                            .

 

                                                               

I've waited in the lonely night

                                                                When the fire upon the hearth burnt bright

                                                                                And the children sweetly slept.

                                                                My heart would heave and wildly beat

                                                                For him, tossed on the far off deep

                                                                                Where the Storm King fiercely swept.

 

                                                                And then, when homeward he'd return

                                                                Our hearts with joy and love would burn

                                                                                To see his face once more.

                                                                The children on his knee would climb

                                                                Each little tongue its love would chime

                                                                                Their hearts were gushing o'er.

 

                                                                But many days have passed since then,

                                                                The girls have grown; the boy's a man

                                                                                And I am turned quite grey.

                                                                Thy face is graven in my heart

                                                                Thine eyes their kindly light impart

                                                                                Although so far away.

 

                                                                Our daughter, of her spouse bereft,

                                                                She and her little children left

                                                                                Without a hand to guard.

                                                                The anguish of her widowed heart

                                                                Now wakes in me the buried smart

                                                                                That in my bosom laid.

 

                                                                But when our work on earth is done

                                                                We'll meet, in realms bright as the sun

                                                                                If we but faithful prove,

                                                                To God, and all His holy laws

                                                                And help sustain His righteous cause

                                                                                Brought hither by His Son.

 

On the 4^th or 24^th of July, 1897, George Q. performed a dangerous feat.  He and Joseph J. Cannon, a son of George Q. Cannon, agreed to swim from Garfield to Saltair, a distance of about seven miles, I think.  They engaged a man to go with them and take some sugar for stimulant for them during the trying feat, which they accomplished in the time specified, I believe.  The next morning upon the floor of the boys' bedroom was a white substance much finer than silk; the skin from the back of my son George Q., which Old Sol had succeeded in blistering off.

During this month, on the 15^th, I think, as George Q. and his brother Nephi were returning from work at the end of the day and were within half a block of home, at the corner of Second South and Third West, they met a run-a-way horse.  Fearing that someone would be hurt, George put out his hand to stop it, when he received a kick from the horse upon his head, within an inch of the temple.  A little nearer would have been instant death.  To prevent an undue shock to me, Nephi took him into our neighbor, Joseph R. Morgan's house and there washed the blood from his face.  It happened that I was out at the time, however, so that when I saw him, his wounds were dressed and he was comfortable in bed.  I do not think he was quite conscious and for some time the incident of the accident seemed to be quite a blank in his memory  The first thing he remembered was uniting in prayer with Bishop Morgan, while he was being administered to.

A day or two before this accident, Burton, son of Richard V. and Harriet Jones Morris, had been killed, and a little boy, living a door or two from us, was drowned.

It seems to me that George was in bed for a week or ten days.  Cousin Zaidee, who was staying with us at the time, seemed to know just how to help, and her company is always a pleasure.  She always thought a great deal of "White Wings," as she used to call her cousin George Q.  He did not suffer much, and when he was able to sit in the shady, cool parlor it seemed so pleasant to have him home, and many friends came to see him.  Among others were Miss Lucy Van Cott and Joseph J. Cannon.  To the latter he was always very much attached.  Another pleasing feature of his brief illness was the loving tenderness his brother Nephi showed him.  His kind solicitude for his brother's welfare and anxiety for his recovery was almost pathetic.  To a newly wedded bride he could not have been more tender and loving.  It was certainly a narrow escape, and I know that there is some of his precious blood and hair upon that huge stone building of Henderson's warehouse. 

A few days before Christmas George put in an application for graduation in the Mormon Course at the University of Utah.  The same day he received a letter from Box "B," calling him to go upon a mission to England.  President Joseph F. Smith and Franklin D. Richards had the missionary work in charge and, as I was just leaving home to go and attend Addie's sick children, I told him to consult with the brethren and that if they wished him to go at once, he must let his educational work at the university drop, but that if they were willing that he should stay and finish his course, that was all right, too.  The following Saturday, he telephoned me that he had met with these gentlemen, and President Richards had told him to continue his course at school until it was completed and then be prepared to leave for his mission to Europe the following September.

President Richards had also questioned George very closely as to his habits and general course of conduct, all of which questions he could answer in a manner most satisfactory to the brethren in charge.  He was asked with regard to his financial conditions, his father having died the previous March, but to this, as to all the other questions, he was able to give a satisfactory answer.

In the spring of 1899, I became indignant that every drop of water that we used or drank must be taxed, and determined to have some which should be as free as the air we breathe.  To this end, I concluded to have the well digger come and sink me a flowing well.  A bold undertaking, it would seem, for a widow of moderate means.  At 96 feet, a clear cold stream was found with a flow of several gallons to the minute.  It was strongly impregnated with sulfur and was accounted delicious.  The cost of the well was $55.  The saving upon the lawn tax alone was $12, and I reckoned another savings of at least an equal amount in being able to do without ice, for we could now keep our butter hard and our meat and milk cool, besides its being much more healthful to drink than ice water.  In my kitchen garden I raised with this water:  potatoes measuring eight inches long and five inches in circumference, sweet corn a foot and a-half long,   and beans as fine as I have ever seen and of a delicious flavor.  It seems a strange thing to relate, but the leaves of the morning glories were as large as my hand, the Virginia creeper thrived wonderfully and the chrysanthemum plants grew into large bushes.  I enjoyed the water so much that when I would be hoeing in the garden in the heat of the day, I used to drink until it would run over my chin; it was so cool and pleasant.  As I drank, I would think of a saying of your dear grandfather Morris in speaking of the healthful properties of buttermilk.  He would say in reference to his grandchildren drinking it, "I am like to see them drink it, until it is run down."

My next venture was to paint the house, as I wanted it to look bright and pleasant.  I had learned by hard experience that it does not pay to try to clean old, faded paint.  I could manage to buy the paint but could not afford to pay a man to put it on.  As I was no stranger to the use of the paint pot and paint brush, I concluded to do it myself.  I found that a box of paint will cover a large space and bought a can of oil, some turpentine and some white lead.  I used two shades of olive green, with buff for trimmings and white for the window frames.  Two years previous, the Jubilee Year, I had painted the floors of the front and back porches and varnished all the furniture in the house to good effect, so I was not afraid to begin.  I painted the dining room, boys' bedroom, kitchen, pantry, back and front porches and a great part of the cook shed.  I felt pretty proud when the doors were paneled in pretty shades of olive green; rather ashamed when I stood on a box and chair on top of a table to paint the cornice of the front porch; very tired when in the last rays of the sun one summer evening, I finished the cornice of the back porch, and rather annoyed when the young man who I had hired to paint the outside of the bedroom window frames daubed the glass window panes.  As I put the last touches upon the back porch, the boys protested, but I was willing enough to quit, for it was my last job and I had had enough.  I can see my paints, cups and buckets with the second can of oil, as I cleaned all carefully and put them away on the clean, cool cement floor of the cellar.

This summer George Q. and Katie Vaughan graduated, George from the Normal Course and Katie from the Kindergarten.  I was particularly gratified with the success of my son, George Q., for, while studying very hard at his lessons, he had also continued to earnestly perform his ward duties.  I fear his hours for repose were all too short, but his duty to his God would not allow him to neglect his labors in the Church, and he was certainly blessed in his school work, for he not only received his diploma, but a written recommendation from his teachers, also.

Graduation time is always a period of anxiety to young lady students.  For her dress to be worn upon this occasion, Katie chose a piece of exceedingly fine white swiss, in preference to silk.  The skirt and waist were to be trimmed with narrow ruffles, but the main anxiety was to get it done in time, the demands made upon dressmakers at this season of the year being very great.  Sister Smith, or more properly speaking, Mrs. Milly Spencer Stewart, had to work all that night; she was so busy.  But our friend, Cousin Zaidee happened to be staying with us, having come to represent the Y.L.M.I.A., so rising early, she sped over to the dressmaker's and gave such help as was needed at this critical moment.

Finally, the dress was finished and upon being worn, was pronounced as pretty as any that graced the students that day.  The weather was propitious and the exercises were held in the Salt Lake Theatre.  The program was an enjoyable one and well attended.  Then followed the really important part of the program:  the distribution of the diplomas.  Now friends and relatives began to throng the spacious stage, bearing gifts of flowers and showering congratulations upon the happy winners of this coveted proof that their years of mental toil had been satisfactory.  The flowers received by George and Kate were not numerous but very choice.  Among the foremost to offer congratulations to me and my children was Professor William M. Steward, head of the Normal Department of the university.  As Katie was the first teacher to graduate from the Kindergarten Course, he was very proud of her, and taking my hand, he spoke in terms of praise of both George and Kate, adding, "And there is not a spot upon their names."  This last mead of praise so filled my heart with emotion that I could not answer or keep back the tears.  The pure affection and warm friendship of their fellow students is treasured in my heart to this day.  All then adjourned to the photograph gallery, where Katie was particularly fortunate in posing for a very good picture as she stood in her graduation gown, surrounded by the floral offerings she had received.

George now started work again in the marble yard and saved as much as possible of his means preparatory to going upon his mission in the fall of the year.  Katie began to give her attention to domestic affairs, besides teaching kindergarten at the Orphan's Home in Farmer's Ward, next to the infirmary.  In the month of August, the first business meeting of the Elias Morris & Sons Company, since your brother Nephi had been in charge of affairs, was held, and it was found that things were getting upon a satisfactory basis.

About this time we sold our little cow Goldie, who had given us milk for three years in succession without having had a calf.  We disliked parting with her, but she was only good for beef then.  In her place we bought a full-blooded Jersey, and George took a good deal of pleasure in caring for her.  Since he was very young, I had taught him to help with the cow.  I think I can see him now, when only about 5-years-old, dressed in a clean shirt waist and little knickerbockers of my own manufacture, taking the cow with the ward herd to pasture.  I can remember a man who had come to see something about the cow, looking kindly at him and remarking, "He is too little to take a cow to the herd," but he was all I had to send, and he was true to the trust reposed upon him.  At the time to which I refer there was only myself and George and little Kate, two years younger, at home.  My policy was to milk before sunrise, so as not to be pestered with the flies.

So George was no stranger to the work of attending to a cow, and remarked with regard to the little Jersey we had just purchased, "It is worth the $10 extra we have paid for her to have such a refined little creature to attend to."  He named her Servia.  She was as handsome as a deer and as gentle as a dove.

 

GEORGE Q. LEAVES ON A MISSION TO EUROPE

Time was speeding rapidly away and the date fixed for George's departure was close at hand.  His sister Addie tendered him a delightful reception at her beautiful home in Forest Dale, inviting a large circle of his friends, including the Sunshine Circle and many of his teachers and fellow students at the university.  Then followed a choice and loving testimonial at the ward where he had labored so long and faithfully.  It seems to me also that the workmen tendered him some compliment or other. 

At last the fateful day, the 20^th, arrived and the last moments before his departure had come.  He and Katie and I stood in the dining room.  He had given me the parting kiss, and putting his arms around me affectionately, remarked, "Ma, take care of yourself."  I felt the weight of his words, as the sequel will show.  Then, turning to his sister Katie, he said, "Take care of Mother."  I felt that he had never given better counsel than that, and then with one more look he was gone.  He ran into the other house to bid them a hasty "goodbye."  I looked out into the street a few minutes later, thinking I might see him once again, but his precious form was no longer in sight.  I stood at the gate, hoping that he might turn back again to fetch something, but no!  It seemed as if I could not be comforted.  I stood at the gate still looking and silently sobbing, when Ray Grant Taylor and her husband came by.  They spoke to me very kindly.  Then your sister Winnie Tibbs came to condole with me, and speaking in the highest terms of him, said, "I am proud of him.  I am glad he is my brother."

A few days later I met our friend, Brother William R. Jones, who, in the course of conversation remarked, "Many mothers would be willing to give the ears off their head if they could have such a son as George."  I answered, "If it were possible for me to love him a thousand times more than I do, I would willingly give him for the Master's cause."  In due time I received a letter from him, and in answering it, I realized that where he was, he would receive news relating to the world at large, and from his humorous friends and correspondents from here, he would receive news of his home town; so I concluded nothing was left for me to do but to write about our home circle.  I therefore pictured to him my sitting out on the concrete walk with a newspaper in my hand and at my side a broom, which I occasionally poked through the fence to drive off the too aggressive horses who were bent upon robbing poor little Servia of her nice dinner and who, being so much larger and taller than she, the poor little animal could not protect herself.  I also told him that upon another evening our friend Victor Wells called to see your brother Nephi and of course was taken to see Servia, but she received him with a rather restive expression, as if to say, "I do not know you; I shall not trust you."  These little reminiscences he greatly enjoyed and most likely seemed to feel the milking bucket in his left hand, while with his right he would be patting little Servia upon the back while she, in response, would lip him tenderly.  She now fell into the hands of your brother Nephi, and would leap after him like a deer when he appeared with the bran bucket in his hand. 

On the morning of Thanksgiving, Katie and I were upstairs cutting out and planning some pillow slips.  We were feeling quite calm and peaceful, but I had the impression that something of a serious nature was not far off.

Winter, with the cold weather, had now come, and Nephi was still suffering from rheumatism.  When he would bend his back to get under the fence to feed the cow or reach up to feed the other stock, the pain would almost baffle description.  Still he uttered no complaint and continued to bring such heaping scuttles of coal and kindling and water to correspond, that my heart would ache to see it.  Feed had become quite expensive, and this, coupled with Nephi's suffering, made us think it better to part with our cow, and we found a ready customer in a milk dealer, who wanted to buy her for the purpose of mixing her milk with that of ordinary cows.  So now my afflicted boy had no cow to claim his care.

Toward the end of the year, Nephi's eyes were attacked with inflammation.  He had that day, besides his regular work, written a letter of fourteen pages to his brother George Q. and had read about twenty business letters.  He had to fly to the doctor for temporary relief, and was obliged to remain in a darkened room and to wear dark glasses when he went out.  For all this, there was but one day that he did not go to the office, and upon that day his bookkeeper came down to the house.  He was a member of the legislature that year and would go to the office at 9 o'clock and to the legislature at 11, and then back to the office again for the rest of the day.  One of the remedies prescribed by the doctor was to pour a kettle of boiling water into a wash basin and then bathe the eyes until the water became cool.

I had planned that upon the last day of the year I would entertain the same old ladies who had honored me with their company a year previous.  I had also invited dear Aunt Aggie to join us.  Poor Nephi had his holiday at home alone in the parlor, while I entertained the company in the dining room, where a cozy fire had been lighted.  They seemed to enjoy themselves immensely listening to and talking to Aunt Aggie and your cousin Eva Pratt Woods, who had come down with Aunt Aggie, while Katie and I served the turkey dinner from the kitchen.

After our aged guests had departed, Aunt Aggie and Cousin Eva sat with us, the latter reading an interesting book, while I finished some booties that I had been making for Tansy's twins and had been unable to get done for Christmas.  So we spent in a cheerful and profitable manner the time until the gongs, chimes, whistles and bells chimed the year 1899 out of existence.

We now found that a brilliant fire was as detrimental to Nephi's eyes as the bright sunlight.  So he moved from the cheery parlor with its open grate to his bedroom, which had a stove in it, and this room had to be darkened.  Misery was added to suffering by a defective flue.  When we kindled a fire to warm the room we were obliged to open the door to let the smoke out.  This state of things was, of course, unendurable, so we sent for a man, who understood such work, to investigate the cause of the trouble.  This man was our faithful employee, David Edwards.  Upon examination he found that the flue was so thickly coated with soot that the outlet for the smoke was no larger than a dollar.  A few days later, Davy, anxious to know if his work had been successful, asked Nephi how the stove was acting, and in reply your brother told him, "It draws so well that it may draw the bed up yet."  I think the bed was opposite the stove.

In about a month Nephi's eyes were getting better.  In the meantime he had been to the temple and had been promised restoration to perfect sight.  Katie was his little nurse during this time of affliction, and he did not fail to reward her substantially for her kind attentions.

January 27^th, 1900, fell, I think, upon a Sunday, and we all went to your sister Addie's to celebrate the third birthday of little Nora.  It was a bright, beautiful morning and our own house looked so cheerful in the sunshine that I rather hated to leave it.  I think that I put a large lump of coal upon the dining room fire to keep the room warm until our return.  Nephi and Kate came after Sunday School and we spent a very pleasant day together.  We were pressed to stay all night and chatted until the 'wee sma' hours of the morning before we realized how late it was and retired to rest.  Previous to doing so, George M. had us kneel down in prayer together.  We were still there the following day, when your sister Addie was anxious to finish a scrapbook as an additional present to little Nora.  It was such a beautiful day, and I felt that we should all be happy.  I was ashamed that I could not offer to assist Addie in her task, but I felt too sick to do so.

A few days later I felt too ill to do my usual work, and my little grandson Ray Ashton happened to come in.  I asked him to empty the ash pan for me.  It seemed that Providence had sent him to help at that time.  In misery, I tried to make the dining room comfortable.  In the afternoon Nephi came down from town with the buggy and took me to the doctor who had treated me before for similar trouble.  I passed the night quite comfortably, and the following day had another treatment from the doctor.  The first part of the night I felt pretty well, but at 6 o'clock in the morning, I was in such distress that about 8 o'clock, my son Nephi again took me to the doctor.  The morning was very cold, and the doctor, not expecting patients at such an early hour, the room where she attended to me, which was a large one, was not as warm as the necessities of the case called for.  In using the instruments I was of necessity subjected to the chilly atmosphere,  and this increased my already intense suffering.  The instruments were of no avail and my agony so severe that I would willingly have died.  The doctor had told Nephi to fetch me in an hour, but I knew that I should not be able to be moved in so short a time, but said nothing.  An hour passed and he came, but I was no better.  He returned to the office.  It  being Saturday, he had business that claimed his attention.  About the third hour after my arrival at the doctor's, I was taken into a smaller room and laid upon a lounge behind the stove, where I was a little warmer, and she gave me some medicine to deaden the pain; but I still suffered and could hear every word that was said.  For the third time, poor Nephi again came to fetch me, but was told to get a closed carriage, in order that I might not be exposed to the air.  Also, he was instructed to secure the services of a trained nurse, who could use the instruments needed in my case.

In the meantime poor little Kate was at home trying to do the Saturday work, for she was teaching kindergarten upon the other days of the week.  As hour after hour passed and I did not come home, her anxiety became almost unbearable, and when, upon hearing of the gravity of my condition, Nephi came home and, moving the piano across the parlor, brought my bed downstairs, her agony of mind increased.  When she saw me taken from the carriage and found that, although seriously ill, I was still alive, her joy knew no bounds.  And when later I found myself sitting by a glowing fire, warming my miserably cold feet with my little Kate to care for me and surrounded by so much loving sympathy, my appreciation was inexpressible.  There was some difficulty in securing the services of a skilled nurse, but finally Dr. Maggie Shipp Roberts found a young woman who had graduated from one of her classes, whom she could recommend.  Her fee was $15 a week, and then she could only stay for two weeks, promising to come on Sunday night.  In the meantime I had to bear my suffering as best I could.  True to her word, on Sunday evening, Miss       , the nurse arrived.  I sized her up as follows:  She is tall and slender, neat and tender and worth her weight in gold or precious metals.  She gave me to understand that she would take no special course with me that night but took up her abode in my room on the other side of the fireplace upon a little soft sofa.  The following morning, after replenishing the fire, she went upstairs, where her valise had been set, and soon reappeared attired in a light cotton dress, stiffly laundered.  I saw the propriety of this costume, especially when nursing cases of contagious diseases.  I also noticed that for the night she was provided with soft warm slippers, so that her step would be noiseless.  All her care and vigilance and the doctor's medicine, however, brought me little relief.  Her task was anything but a pleasant one, but she did her part well and offered no complaint.  Understanding my condition, she allowed me to see very few visitors, saying that I was not fit to receive any.  She remarked, "Many persons would be a long way off, if they suffered what you do."  She was as good a cook as she was a skillful nurse and an agreeable companion, as well.  She told me much of her life's history, which was a sad one.  She and Nephi did all that they could for my happiness.  One evening, to please me, they re-hung all the pictures in the room to suit my taste, for the previous arrangement was a source of annoyance to me.  I remember how they joked with each other and how cheerfully they tried to perform this rather difficult task to my satisfaction, but they certainly succeeded in the end.

About this time, your brother Nephi, knowing how much I admired a portrait of your father that hung in the meeting house, had a most excellent one made for me by the same artist.  It was done in crayon and was life-size.  When it was ready, he told the nurse to be careful that it should not cause me any shock when it was brought into my room.

Many friends sent me flowers.  Among those who showed me this kindness was Miss Mary C. May, a lady not of our faith, but under whose tuition your sister Kate had graduated from the University of Utah.  It was a potted plant in full bloom, and the time being the depth of winter, it seemed the more delightful.  I sent a note of appreciation in return, which she said was sweeter then the flowers!  My dear president, Sister Camilla Cobb, also sent flowers and some very fine fruit.  Some of our friends who called to express sympathy were not allowed to see me, which grieved me very much.  One of these was my dear friend Mrs. Kelly; it was so hard to deny her!  Miss Annie Cannon and her sister Mrs. Nora Cannon Stewart saw me one day, but I was not able to speak to them.  They brought me some beautiful white roses and afterward, when I was feeling a little better, I indited a note of thanks to them, which they appreciated.

One dear friend called, but she talked so much that the effect of listening to her, in my weakened condition, was like stripped ribbon upon my brain.

One morning I was so low that the door had to be thrown open in order that I might have strength to breathe.  About this time the doctor came and said, "Ah, I see you have had too much medicine and too little food."

I think it was upon this day that our young friend Matthew Miller called to bear any message we might wish to send to my son George Q. in England.  I could only send word that I loved him.  Nephi and Kate also sent cake and candy.  I had now been in bed about a month, and the second nurse was in attendance in the person of our dear friend Miss Lilly Aris.  My suffering grew more and more excruciating.  Katie, although teaching kindergarten at the University of Utah until noon, managed to do most of the housework in the afternoon.  Still she insisted upon taking turns with Miss Aris in taking care of me at night, and feeling sympathy for the nurse, would also try to relieve her as much as possible in the day.  My paroxysms of pain would start with a low moan and then increase until I had to be held.  Although so weary from her day's work and anxiety, as soon as the first moan would escape my lips, Kate would arise quickly and, grasping my hands, help me to bear the terrible pain.  At this period of my illness, your brother Nephi, who slept in his room across the hall, knowing that he could render no assistance, would cover up his head so as not to hear my agonized cries.  Such acute suffering could not of course continue all the time, and when I was feeling pretty well, your brother Nephi would read to me, although he came home weary with excessive work and responsibility and his body racked with rheumatic pain.  I often wondered if my reading to my children gave them one half the pleasure that his reading gave me.

 

[Page 309]

 

I remember one evening his reading to me from Lord's Beacon Lights of History.  The topic was the Book of Job, and this subject, together with Nephi's manner of reading gave me so much pleasure that I seemed to have renewed strength to bear my affliction.  At times, he would lie and rest upon a soft couch before the cheery fire and it gave me great joy to see him, for a time at least, oblivious to care and suffering.  Sometimes I was able to receive my sons-in-law, E.T. Ashton and George M. Cannon who were  always kind and attentive; my daughters, of course, being very much tied at home.  They came, however, as often as they could, and one day, just as Effie was about to depart, I could feel one of those dreadful periodical pains coming on.  I did not know what to do, but was thankful that she was out of the house before the pain grew too severe and thus she was saved the shock of hearing my horrible cries for by this time a complication of troubles had set in.  When I had to stand upon my feel in order to change my clothing, which would be once or twice a day, I realized how dreadfully ill I was.  One morning as the nurse was treating me, the Doctor came in and said there was a growth which must be removed, so I concluded to get the best advice I could.  So I told my son Nephi to go to the veteran physician of the Latter Day Saints, Bro. W.F. Anderson.  He manifested great delicacy in taking the case out of the hands of the other Doctor, which called forth my admiration.  He immediately prescribed some capsules.  They were of a bright yellow color about the size of peas, containing several black letters in the center as if they had been tiny globes.  The also contained one drop of essence of satin-wood and were very expensive, being imported from Paris.

That night I spent in comparative comfort.  The following day a consultation of some length was held between my former doctor and Doctor Anderson and it was decided to operate the following morning, the first Sunday in March 1900.

Sister Harriet Ann Badger promised to come and be with me, and I also wished to have Sister Jeanette Griggs to help the nurse, but the good old doctor thought we had enough help.  However, later events proved that her presence would have been desirable, for when Miss Aris saw me turn pale and heard me make gurgling sound in my throat, she became alarmed and turned sick.  Dr. Anderson administered the anesthetic but I suffered excrutiating pain in spite of it.  During this time my son Nephi and my son-in-law Edward T. Ashton were in the dining room.  For some time afterwards I suffered intensely from nausea and also from thirst, and not being allowed to take any beverage, I dared to eat an orange.  Being Feast Day, I released Sister Badger as soon as possible, the nurse, of course, being there to attend me.

When my daughter Effie heard of the operation, she thought I was going to die and experienced a shock from which she has suffered ever since.  My daughter Addie was not informed of it until several days later and wondered why she had not been told, but I had my own private reasons for thinking it would be best to keep it from her.  During the afternoon Sister Jeanette Griggs called and I told her how much I desired her presence during the operation.  In the evening my Bishop and his councellor, Rodney C. Badger came in the kindest manner to see me and administered to me.  The latter, being mouth, promised that the soreness should leave me then and there, and it did !

By the blessing of the Lord, the operation was successful, but my recovery was of necessity slow after such a long and tedious illness.

Some years before this I had been anxious to secure a copy of Dr. Watt's hymns, my mother having taught me many of them in my childhood and there being several of them to be found in the Latter Day Saints' Hymn Book.  I sent to London but was only successful in securing a tiny book published by the Religious Tract Society of that city, entitle "Divine and Moral Songs for Children," by Issac Watts, D.D.  This gifted poet lived and wrote in the 16th Century.  One of these hymns, a great favorite of mine is found upon page 22 of this little book.  It is entitled; - Pride in Fine Clothes.  The following verses occur in it:

 

3. -           How vain we are, and proud to show

                And call them rich and new;

                When the poor sheep and silk-worm wore

                That very clothing, long before.

4. -           The tulip and the butterfly

                Appear in gayer clothes than I

                Let me be dressed fine as I will

                Flies, worms and flowers exceed me.

Upon page 4 again, is another, which my dear mother taught me when I was a little child only two years old, and could not speak distinctly.  The title is;

 

PRAISE FOR MERCIES.

 

                Whene'er I take my walks abroad

                How many poor I see !

                What shall I render to my God

                For all His gifts to me

                Not more than others I deserve

                Yet God hath given me more;

                For I have food, while others starve

                And beg from door to door.

                How many children in the street

                Half naked I behold

                While I am clothed from head to feet

                And covered from the cold.

                While some poor wretches scarce can tell

                Where they many lay their head;

                I have a home wherein to dwell

                And rest upon my bed.

                While others early learn to swear

                And curse, and lie, and steal

                Lord, I am taught thy name to fear

                And do Thy Holy will.

                Are these, thy favors day by day

                To me, above the rest?

                Then let me love Thee more than they

                And try to serve Thee best.

 

Your Aunt Aggie tells me that I used to pronounce the second verse as follows; -

 

                Not more than ezzers I deserve

                Yet God hath given me more

                For I have food, while uzzers starve

                And beg to door to door.

 

I was so impressed with the value of these choice hymns that I sent for a dozen copies of the little book, and having obtained them, had them re-bound in red morocco, having concluded to present a copy to each of my grandchildren as their birthdays occurred.  I instructed the book binder to add twelve blank pages, upon which I might write as I felt impressed.  As six of my grandchildren were born in January and three in February, it came about that these birthdays occurred while I as bedridden.  I think that I had written in some of them in the former part of the month previous to my illness.  Dear Miss Aris came to my assistance and not only wrote up my journal, but one or more of the letters which I wished to have inserted in the little books.

At the present moment I am in the State of Idaho, one hundred miles from home, but I happen to have a copy of one of the letters in the handwriting of Miss Aris, with me.  It is, perhaps, a good sample of the others.

"To Little Jane Leon Ashton, from Grandma Morris, March 25, 1900."

 

(The letter)

                                                                                                                                Salt Lake City       

                                                                                                                                March 25^th, 1900

To Miss Jane Leon Ashton;

My sweet little Grand-daughter,

In presenting this little book of sacred songs to you, I offer it as a souvenir of my infancy; showing how god-fearing people taught their children how to love Him, revere His servants, and to honor people older than themselves.

I should like this little book to be kept as long as you live.  It will show you the difference in the ways of the world seventy or a hundred years ago, and the time in which you live.

Turning to page 4, you will find a hymn taught me by my dear mother when I was two years old.  And now, at the age of sixty-four years I can repeat it from memory.

The doctrine in these little hymns is not altogether correct as to principle, for the author of them lived in the 16^th Century, two hundred years before our heavenly Father sent the Gospel to the earth in this dispensation; hence, we were not in direct communication with the revelations of His will.

As childhood's days soon slip away, I would say a few words that will help you in climbing the rugged hill of life.  The first thing needed is the Gospel of the Son of God.  This I know your dear parents have taught you.  Now, as you cannot walk through life alone in an acceptable manner before God, if you will ask Him, in faith, he will aid you in choosing a companion who will lead you into His presence.  Having served Him thus far, you can claim this blessing at His hands.  And as He knows who is suited to who, you can place this matter in His charge.

And as no one can build a grand and noble structure on an emperfect (sice) foundation, you must look well to the foundation of your household.

Now, having formed this holy alliance, do not find fault with the companion you have chosen.  If you think his faults are glaring, ask God to show you your faults.  Never speak to him in a disrespectful manner before your children, but always honor him in their presence; although you may think him in error.  If you differ with him in their presence, it will diminish their confidence in him.  If you honor him, they will honor him, and he will have greater influence with them.  If parents cannot control their children by love and a worthy example, there is no other way of reaching their hearts and leading them in the straight and narrow way.

If you see a fault in your children, pluck it out as you would an ugly weed from among your choice flowers, before it had a chance to grow and produce seed after its own kind; and having plucked it out, root and branch, now plant a flower where the weed grew.  Water this flower and continually nourish it, strengthen it, and let no tares grow about it, and as sure as I am writing this letter to you, this flower will bloom on your path in ripened years and the fragrance thereof will cheer your tottering steps towards the grave.  Never cease your care over the precious plants God has committed to your charge for He will hold you accountable for the way in which you bring them up before Him.  Never leave them in order that you may go off pleasuring or visiting; if you cannot take them with you, stay at home with them !  Even in mature manhood or womanhood, STILL STAY WITH THEM.  You can weild (sic) a saving, silent influence over them which they may not be aware of, but its effect for good will be manifest in their lives.

Never let your tongue speak against a principle of the Gospel or against any of God's servants.  Honor God, and he will honor you.  Bless you, my darling child, and that you may remember these few works I have written is the desire of your loving grandmother,

MARY LOIS WALKER MORRIS.

 

In the first part of the year 1900, your brother, Edward T. Ashton, the newly chosen Bishop of the 24^th Ward (organized from a portion of the 15^th Ward) in the inate (sic) kindness of his heart, had invited the Old Folks of his former ward to a reunion of both wards.  As special guests of honor he invited Bishop Joseph R Morgan and his councilors, Rodney C. Badger and Nephi L. Morris; also the presidency of the Salt Lake Stake, President Angus M. Cannon and his councillors (sic) Joseph E. Taylor and Chas. W. Penrose, and Bro. George Goddard, the General Assistant Superintendent of the Sunday School Board.  Although the members of the newly sliced off ward were very happy in their new Bishop, good humble gifted man as he is, they had not forgotten you father, their former Bishop, nor had they lost sight of their late President of Relief Society, Sister Sarah M. Kimball, who had walked hand in hand with him, working day and night for the best good of the large flock ever which they were Shepherd and Shepardess (sic) in very deed, but who had both now gone to their reward.  Your brother, the Bishop, had requested me to prepare a greeting for this very interesting occasion.  Accordingly I set about my task, but becoming discouraged, took what I had written to him for his consideration.  In his kind way, he said; "I think it is lovely."  Thus encouraged I went ahead with renewed vigor and had it done in time.  Not wishing to read it myself, I asked Miss Laura Staples, one of my former primary students, who had now become a good elocutionist, if she would read it for me.  To this she readily consented, also to my suggestion that I might be allowed to drill her somewhat in the spirit of what I wanted conveyed in the sentiments I had written.  Having had a long acquaintance with some of the worthy veterans who were to meet upon this very interesting occasion I had taken considerable pleasure in this composition, which was as follows; -

 

A NEW YEAR'S GREETING

(January 1^st, 1900)

 

Friends and neighbors long united

For a while we've dwelt apart,

But our friendship, undiminished; -

We offer you our hand and heart.

Asking you this day to join us

In our feast take ample part.

Two have gone who used to lead us

A Father and a Mother true,

How we loved, and how we missed them

This is right, it was their due.

They are working for God's kingdom

Though now parted from our view.

One was the Prophet Joseph,

Joined him in his work of love,

Never ceasing in her labor

Until summoned from above.

Blessed woman, how we prised (sic) her!

Gentle as the harmless dove.

The other hailed from far off Cambria

A man of valor, true as steel!

No wonder that the people loved him,

He constant labored for their weal.

He is watching, he will greet us

When we've crossed life's battle field.

Others too, have followed after

In the year just sped along

They have filled life's fitful chapter

No more, they join our social throng.

Please go with them, they have conquered,

Now they sing triumphant song!

We've seen ups and downs together

Through these many changing years,

We've had calm, and boisterous weather

Mingled joy with many tears.

But Zion's onward, ever onward,

For her future we've no fears.

Prophets have been sent to guide us,

Chosen servants of the Lord,

And they daily, hourly feed us

With our God's undying word.

Heaven bless them, peace attend them,

While they scatter truth abroad.

And we have others now here with us,

Men of merit, truth and might

And though laboring, from their boyhood

Still they're staunch, and true and bright.

Ever working and defending

Battling on, for God and right.

And we've many veterans with us

Those who've stood in early days,

Here they stand, with faith unfaltering

Numbered wit the Silver-greys.

Never flinching, nothing doubting,

Walking wisdom's pleasant ways.

We once more extend our greeting,

Fathers, mothers, Welcome all

Though this year be short and fleeting

May it bring it's joys to all.

May we be humble, never stumble,

Keeping clear of Satan's thrall.

 

Note; - Sister Sarah M. Kimball was wit the Prophet Joseph when he organized the first Relief Society, March 17^th, 1842.  Your father, Elias Morris, of course, came from Cambria (Wales)

 

The following March our Ward Relief Society president, Mrs. H.A. Badger, called and asked me to allow her to have this poem read upon the occasion of their 17^th of March celebration.  I was ill at the time but gladly consented and after the meeting was honored by a visit from Mrs. Emeline B. Wells, secretary to the General Board, and Mrs. Annie T. Hyde, councellor (sic) to the General President of the Relief Society in all the world.  These ladies also spoke in terms of commendation of the "Greeting."

The following summer, an elder from the missionary field where your brother George was laboring, called upon us, speaking in the highest terms of his education and other excellent qualifications as a missionary.  He remarked that he did not think that he would be removed from the Welsh conference.  I did not say anything, but thought; - "I will talk to my Heavenly Father about that."  Writing to George Q. about this elder's very kind visit, I told him that while I would not draw a single breath to have him removed from where he was, and wanted him to do all the good he could, I wanted him to get all the good there was from his opportunities, but wanted my heavenly Father to have direction as seemed good to Him. 

I subsequently heard that this elder, or some other in the conference had pleaded with the presidency of the European Mission to have George Q. preside over the Welsh mission when the retiring president should be released to return home, and that they, in reply, had said that they had something else for him to do.  Shortly after this he was summoned to London, arriving, I think, while their Conference was being held, and was called to preside there.  A little while later, a brother named Charles Berry, from the London Conference, called on us and remarked that he would have been willing to remain a year longer on his mission in order to labor under your brother's direction.

There were some interesting occurrences during the time of his presidency.  A short time previous, I suppose, the lease of the old 36 Benton Street had expired, so the old place was deserted, with but few regrets I should imagine, and new, comodious (sic), even imposing quarters were purchased for the home of the Saints of the London Conference.  The furnishings of the house devolved upon George.  Also the selection of a house-keeper, hiring of a servant, and many other matters pertaining thereto.  Z.C.H.I. sent a beautiful steel range, but he experienced considerable difficulty in having this set up in American style as needed.  A Brother Parrott, a fellow missionary, acted as book-keeper of the household and there were quite a number of missionaries who made their home or headquarters there.  It seemed strange that only a short time previous his brother Nephi had occupied a similar position, and singular that during that time Bro. Anthon R. Lund, who was presiding over the European Mission, should have said to Nephi; "Bro. Morris, have you a brother?" as if it had passed through his mind that if such were the case, he would like to have him there.

Another very pleasant feature of George's stay in London was his association with Colonel and Mrs. _____ Thomas, highly cultured people whose acquaintance, which later developed into a sincere friendship, was a source of great pleasure to George and his fellow missionaries and also gave a opportunity to preach the Gospel to persons occupying a sphere in which it is difficult to gain access in a country like England, where the people, especially in the higher walks of life, are very exclusive.  Colonel Thomas, who subsequently joined the Church, was a retired officer of the British Army, having been stationed in India.

When George Q. went to England, Bro. James McMurrin, with Bro. Henry W. Naisbitt and Rulon S. Wells presided over the European Mission, but upon Bro. Mc Murrin's release Apostle Francis M. Lyman succeeded him.  Soon afterwards, intending to take a tour on the Continent, he invited such as could do so among the Presidents of the Missions, to accompany him.  This offered your brother a fine opportunity to see a little of the Old World.

In the early part of the summer of 1900, my health having by this time greatly improved, I took my part again in the Church work that I so dearly loved.  Still I felt that my strength was not equal to my ambition and was afraid to exert myself.  Being invited by the 19^th Ward Primary Association to their closing exercises at Liberty Park, I went, although I had accepted an invitation to attend a select birthday party later in the afternoon for Sister Julia C. Howe of the 17^th Ward, Salt Lake City.  The day being warm, added to the fatigue of a long car ride, made me very ill, so that I was deprived of the pleasure I had anticipated in the company of my friends, some of whom had been companions of my youth.  Knowing that my condition was such that I could not afford to take too many risks of this sort, at the Quarterly Conference of the Salt Lake Stake I was prompted to resign my office as Councellor (sic) to Sister Camilla Cobb, President of the Salt Lake Stake Primary Association.  I knew not why I did it, but there was the sweetest calm, happy influence accompanying this prompting, for I felt that it was my duty to my Heavenly Father who had preserved my life to use the strength that remained to me, in caring for my family, a charge which had always been sacred to me.  But there were conditions before me that I knew not of, but my Heavenly Father, knowing, prompted me to take this preparatory step.  My fellow officers and friends were astonished and as circumstances subsequently developed, might have thought that I knew what was coming at the time, but I did not.

About this time I received a visit from my friend Mrs. Rebecca E. Little, who had lately returned from a visit to the Paris Exposition.  It gave me great pleasure to hear her talk, as in our Reaper's Club, of which she was also a member, we had some time previously studied and written upon matters connected with the World's Fair, held in Chicago in 1893.  She spoke of having met my son George Q. and the object of her visit was to express the pleasure this had given her.  She was always interested in him and your sister Kate, she (Mrs. Little) having taken a degree at the University of Utah upon the same day that George graduated from the Normal Course and Kate from Kindergarten.  I admired her for having made this educational effort after her marriage and widowhood, and at an age when many think it is too late to improve such opportunities.  She had taken on or both of her children with her to both Fairs, and although a rich woman was so prudent and careful of the real interest of these dear girls that while giving them every educational advantage, instead of hiring her housework done for her, she taught her own daughters to work.  It is refreshing in these times of vanity to see a wealthy woman so wise as to dress plainly herself and take such a practical view of her parental duty as she has done, and I feel that her example is worthy of honorable mention to present and future generations, when the present age is drifting so rapidly into the whirlpool of vanity and vice.

Mrs. Little was the widow of the late Feramorz Little, ex-mayor of Salt Lake City, and one of the richest and most successful of our business men in Utah.  In the course of conversation this gentleman once remarked to your father; - "I owe my success to having personal supervision of my business affairs."  Brother Little's method will apply to nearly all cases.  It does not matter what we are having done, or who is doing it, it is best to see that our wishes are being carried out.

In May of this year, 1901, my grandson, Edward M. Ashton, returned from his mission to Germany, having left home February 26^th, 1898.  He had performed a faithful mission, but during this time had contracted that dreadful disease, smallpox.  He was left without a blemish upon his face only when his blood became heated, red spots would appear.  However, gradually every sign of his affliction passed and he was as handsome as ever, perhaps more so.

In February, 1902, I received the following patriarchal blessing;

 

                                                                                                                                Bountiful, Feb. 3, 1902

Blessing by Patriarch Judson Tolman upon the head of Mary L. Walker Morris, born May 14, 1835, Leek, Staffordshire, England; daughter of William and Mary Godwin Walker.

Sister Mary, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I seal upon thy head a Father's Blessing.

I say unto thee thou are a descendent of Jacob, though the loins of Ephraim, and through thy lineage and obedience to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, thee, and they descendents are legal heirs unto the Holy Priesthood and all the blessings pertaining thereunto.  Yes, dear sister, thy children to the latest generation shall be true and faithful to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Yes, thou shall always have a representative upon the earth to bear thy name who will be true and faithful to God and this people.  Yes, dear sister, the Lord, thy God, loves thee, because thou did obey the Gospel of Jesus Christ and left thy native land and thy kindred, and took up thy abode with God's people in the valleys of the mountains, and because thou hast been faithful and true to God's Holy Priesthood, thou shalt be greatly blessed of the Lord, thy God, all the rest of thy days upon the earth, yes, and thou shalt live until thou art satisfied with life.  And thou shalt live yet many days and years upon the earth and have joy in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, yes, to enter the Temple of the Lord thy God, and to open the prison door to those that did not have the privilege that thou now enjoy.  And when thou has lived thy days out upon the earth, when thou hast lived until thou art satisfied with life, thou shalt go to sleep in peace without the sting of death, for the sting of death shall be swallowed up in the knowledge that thou wast in the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Yes, dear sister, thy best days are before thee upon the earth, for the Lord thy God, shall touch thy eyes and they shall be opened to see, and thy heart to conceive, the glory, happiness, principalities and powers, thrones and dominions that are in store for thee when thou art brought forth from the grave, for thou shalt surely receive that crown of glory, immortality and eternal lives that was promised thee and placed upon thy head in thy pre-existence with the Heavenly Father.  That crown that was promised thee through thy faithfulness to God's Holy Priesthood, for thou shall truly be obedient and true to God and this people.  Yes, thou shall keep the faith and thou shall fight the good fight that will entitle thee to all the blessings promised unto the faithful.

I also rebuke every pain and every evil power that may desire to molest thy career upon the earth.

I say unto thee, that the blessings of the earth are thine for the blessing of life, health and peace shall be thy companion, yes, health and peace shall dwell in thy habitation and the destroyer shall make no inroads in thy family, for I seal upon thee, dear sister, the gift of faith to have power to rebuke the destroyer from thy habitation.

I also seal upon thee the blessings of eternal lives, principalities and powers, and I seal them upon thy head with every desire of thy heart, in righteousness before the Lord, thy God, in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen.

About this time, a long cherished desire of mine was realized, that of having my daughter Kate take lessons in dressmaking from a competent teacher.  This lady was also a good Latter-Day-Saint.  While taking these lessons on Saturday afternoons, Kate taught a class of Sunday School Teachers the art of Kindergarten.  The classes were held under the auspices of the Sunday School Union and were attended by teachers from Davis and the adjoining Stakes, as well as from Salt Lake Stake.

I must also mention Katie's birthday, April 10^th of this year, which was, I think, one of the happiest days of our lives.  I cannot remember all the presents she received, but I know Nephi sent some beautiful flowers, George M. some choice books, and Addie an elegant hand painted vase or bowl which was a credit to her ability as an artist.  She also sent a great birthday cake and her children a set of sauce dishes.  I think we had a box of oranges and ice cream in the evening, besides a sumptuous dinner.  In any case, it will be some time before Katie has such a birthday again.

I have not mentioned that in September, 1901 another grandson, Elias Conway Ashton returned from his mission of over two years to Colorado and of course a joyful meeing ensued.

By this time his mother had moved into a beautiful and comodious (sic) new house on the corner of First South and Seventh West, a fine location, the street car passing the door.

 

THE REAPER'S CLUB.

I had long been a member of the Reaper's Club and had enjoyed writing papers for it.  One was upon David Henry Thoreau, a naturalist and very interesting character.  It is said of this very remarkable man, that birds came to his call, cattle lipped him and that even the fish in the lakes and streams would glide, without fear through his hands.  In October, 1902, I was chosen a member of the Program Committee.  As the members of the Club were Latter-Day Saint women only, I flet that it would be well to study some subject of a sacred nature, and as Sister E.B. Wells was the mother and founder of the Club, I asked her opinion upon the subject.  It received her hearty endorsement as also that of the Chairman of the Program Committee, Mrs Carrie S. Thomas.  As I was the senior member of the Committee, the members agreed to hold their meetings at my home.  So, one lovely afternoon, in the early fall, Mrs. Thomas and I met, the other member, Mrs. C.J. Trescott being unavoidably detained.  Mrs. Thomas wished me to give the first lecture, "The Gospel of the Saviour."  The rule was that the lecture must be given verbally, not read.  I snatched every spare moment I could to prepare it, but felt very nervous when I stood before my audience in the well filled room, my notes in my hand.  I asked some of the sisters sitting near me to pray for me, and our prayers were answered for a good spirit prevailed and I was able to give my lecture without referring to my notes.  The next subject assigned to me was, "Herod the Great, and the Herods," which I studied from Josephus and other works.  How I loved that grand old book "Josephus," which my son Nephi had brought me from Europe!  This subject was so broad that one, or even two papers could not cover it.  Herod was as great as he was wicked, and the historical facts connected with his life were of great interest to me.

Our source of study was not confined to religious subjects and we found the history of Mexico, as outlined in our program, intensely interesting.  Studied in connection with the report of Bro. John Henry Smith upon his visit to this far off land made me yearn to sojourn among this people.

On June 5th, 1892, I received a letter from Box. B. requesting me to write an article of a faith promoting nature for the Juvenile Instructor.  Circumstances intervening, it was not until the following year that I was able to send it, and it appeared in the issue of August, 1904.  It was as follows; -

 

CONTRIBUTION TO JUVENILE INSTRUCTOR.      

WE TRUSTED IN THE LORD.

A great many years ago, hearing of sickness in the family of a neighbor, I went to offer my services.  I found a little child suffering from an attack of Typhoid fever.  The father, who was but a young member of the Church, had resolved no to eat until she was better.  I dissuaded him from this resolution, and as they thought they needed no help, with many good wishes I left them.

Days passed, and upon inquiry, finding the child was no better, I again offered my services.  This time my offer was accepted, and I watched the little one all night.  Many times I noticed the tender shake up the soft pillows and place them where they would protect the little one's head as she tossed about in the agony of the fever.

One Sunday morning, soon after my second call, one of the attendant physicians came to visit the little patient.  After his departure I induced the parents to discharge him, and one or two other doctors who were attending her; for it seemed to me they were doing her no good.  In the evening of the same Sabbath, while watching with the father, I said to him, as I looked at the bottles of medicine standing near a bottle of consecrated oil, "That medicine is an insult to the Lord!"  "The Elders have been called in; the doctors have been summoned, leaving the question now, 'Which will you choose?'" I asked.  After a few moments reflection, he said, "If you will kneel down with me, I will place this child in the hands of God."  We did so.

About four o'clock the next day the child seemed to be dying.  One of the doctors who was attending her was called, but did not come.  The mother, who up to this time had been cheerful, now gave way to weeping, and said "I can do no more."  Sympathysing (sic) friends stood looking on.  Glancing toward the window, I saw an elder passing.  "Shall we call him in?" I asked.  He was called in, and the child was relieved through his administration.

Later, the last engaged doctor called, but was told that his services were no longer needed.  Seeing that he felt hurt by this, the father said, "If any one can cure my child, you can, but we have concluded to dispense with medical aid."  A lady whom he met as he left the house said that he wept, and remarked, "I can butcher, but I have no luck with these fevers."

The doctors were all dismissed, and still there was little or no change in the condition of the child.  The father said to us, - the mother and myself "I have placed this child in the hands of God and in your care, and will not go back on it, but will stand by you, and get you anything you want."

Now was my turn to feel the great responsibility.  They had done this through my suggestion, and the mother having a small family, and a young baby, could give me but very little aid.

I began my responsible task by calling upon the persons, the members of whose families had been brought safely through severe attacks of this fever.  On faithful saint whom I went to, told me that her daughter, during such an attack, had lost her sight, speech, hearing and reason.  "And what did you do for her?" I asked.  "Nothing but call in the Elders."  That child is a wife and mothers today.

Another good neighbor brought in a little work Dr. Coffin, saying that the Prophet Joseph Smith had more confidence in him than in any other Doctor.  We looked up the remedy for typhoid, prepared the herbs as described, and administered them as directed, and carried hot bricks to the feet for twelve hours, at the same time putting under similar treatment the mother, who had now given out.

The night that we were giving this remedy our Bishop came in with other Elders to administer to the child, but gave us no hope.  Indeed, he expressed himself as having no faith in the case, although he was possessed of the gift of healing to a great degree.

This arduous though simple treatment had the desired effect, and the child so far recovered as to be up, dressed and out in her perambulator in less than a week.

Having now spent three days and five nights with the family, I went home for needed rest, and all went well.

But not long after I was told that the mother had again given out, and on that account our little friend had taken a relapse.  I called again and told the father that I had but one proposition to make, and that was to set apart a day for fasting and prayer.  It was Sunday afternoon, and we agreed to fast the next day.

That evening the father went to meeting, and finding President Wilford Woodruff there, asked him to accompany him home to administer to his child.  He came, accompanied by his wife Phoebe and Sister Sarah M. Kimball.  The first thing he did in his administration was to seal the child up to eternal life.  Now, thought I, that little one will soon be freed from this world's sorrow and temptation.  The child was so ill that the mother utterly refused to leave her side fearing she might pass away at any moment.

To relieve the parents of any other care, I took the oldest child home with me.

Morning came, and I went to see how the little sufferer was.  "She has slept all night." said the mother,  "What do you think of her?"

I answered, "If she is to go, it is so much better for her to pass in peace than to be racked with convulsions; and if she is to recover, sleep is just what she needs to restore her."  The child slept and rested until she was able to be about.  A fever sore followed, but it was not serious.  I saw this little child a few years ago, a healthy, robust girl.

                                                                                Mary L. Morris.

 

Early one morning in June I was awakened by a sever pain in my side.  I hastened down stairs in order to kindle a fire that I might use hot applications for my relief.  But the pain increased so rapidly that I was obliged to call my son Nephi to do it for me.  Meantime the pain became so intense that I was writhing upon the floor in agony.  I looked the matter squarely in the face and told my son of two matters that I desired to have attended to if the worst should come.  I thought of sending for a doctor and decided who it should be if we decided to call in such aid.  But in my heart I said, "Doctors cannot heal, if the Lord does not will it so."  As the intensity of the pain increased, so did the coldness of my body, and cold perspirations streamed down my hands, face, and it seemed to me, from every pore of my body.  A big fire had been kindled in the dining-room grate, and as I lay upon a couch drawn up in front of it, no fire ever looked so delightful as that.  The summer sun, too, shed its generous warmth across the hearth.  But neither the sunshine, the fire, nor the hot applications had any more effect than if I had been stone.  I approached the fire so closely that if it had not been for the care of my attendant, my loose robe would have caught on fire.  Hot drinks were given me but they also had no effect.

I now asked your brother Nephi to administer to me.  I was so eager for relief that I asked for and took a large quantity of the oil.  The moment it touched my lips I was relieved.  The Spirit of life that is in Him in whose name the oil had been blessed and given, now permeated my whole system and I was healed.

The afternoon previous I had painted the kitchen furniture, or I had done a good deal of painting upon the wire screens, using green paint, and I supposed that during the following night the injurious ingredients had been absorbed into my system and had poisoned me.

Some time previous to this, your sister Kate had decided to keep one of the laws of God which the world, with the enemy of souls at the bottom of it, has been fighting for the last seventy years.

And I will bear this testimony, if I never bear it again, that God has sent to earth through this principle some of the noblest spirits that ever left their Father's courts above.  And so much faith have I in this Celestial order of marriage that I would go to the ends of the earth to sustain it, although I am verging onto my seventy-seventh year.  The way is thorny and the path is steep.  I have trodden it before them, and I hope that my children will have the courage and integrity to walk therein.  I know such a path is "the refiner's fire and the fuller's soap."  So we will leave our little Kate in the crucible and I know that God will stand by her if she trusts in Him.

 

GEORGE Q. RETURNS FROM HIS MISSION.           

July 2^nd, 1902, my precious son, George Q. returned home from his European Mission.  For this event I had been preparing for some time.  I was however, not situated so as to help prepare a banquet as I had for his departure, or as I had for his brother's return, but I did as well as I could and arranged to have a pleasant meal for the whole family upon the afternoon of his arrival.  A day or two previous I made a large cake and the next cooked a pot of beans, and the meat was, I know, cooked beforehand.

Our darling arrived about 9 A.M. and about 6 P.M. the family arrived to see him.  We had laid the table to seat the whole family, with but one exception.  It was a pleasant sight.  There was Ed, with his modest, kind solicitude, and Effie, with her whole-souled happiness at her brother's return.  Here was George M. as pleased as anyone to welcome his wife's youngest brother, and Addie, with a heat full of love for the brother for whom she had cared as a mother might, while he was in his babyhood days.  All the children were delighted to see their Uncle George Q. and our meal passed merrily so.  The beans, as a side dish went off like hot cakes, and then followed the desert and fruit.  George Q. was very happy but there was a sad spot in his heart for his little sister Kate and he felt her absence keenly.  They had been almost as sweethearts and now after an absence of three years she could not be there to welcome him.  Such is life.  On the 6^th, four days later, my little grandson, Elias Morris Cannon was born, the finest child of his parents, George M. and Addie Morris Cannon.

During the month I accompanied your brother George Q. to see his sister Kate, finding her well and as happy as people generally are who are compelled to live in exile.  I also went to several receptions given in his honor.  One I know was held in the home of our friend Johnnie Owen and his lovely bride Mrs. Lutie Whitney Owen, and another at the home of Austin "Tooey" Whitney and his sweet little bride Kate Hardin Whitney.  The ward also gave a reception for him and there were others which I could mention if I had my notes at hand.

 

MARRIAGE OF EDWARD MORRIS ASHTON

On October 1^st, 1902 my oldest grandchild, Edward Morris Ashton was married to Louise, daughter of our esteemed friends Rodney C. and Louise Ashby Badger.  The marriage was solemnized at the Salt Lake Temple and afterwards a delightful reception was given at the pretty little home of the bride's parents.  The bride is pure, beautiful and industrious and will I think, make a thrifty little wife.

From the month of September onward, I had the pleasure of having my two sons at home with me, which was a great pleasure, as during the past six years, one or the other of them had been away upon their missions.  I did all that I could to make home pleasant to them, a labor which had been one of my life's studies.  I did not keep help, but was fortunate in finding a good German Sister who did my washing and afterwards had time to clean a room, so that by degrees I managed to get my house-cleaning done.

At the end of November I arranged with my sons, sons-in-law, and grandsons, to meet me in the House of the Lord on Thanksgiving Day, and there do a work for the male members of your father's family.  Nephi and George Q. accompanied me and George M. I know, made considerable sacrifice in order to come.

Elias and Eddie were unable to be present but Colonel Thomas, who was there, gave ma a day, so that four males and one female received the ordinances and we all felt very happy in the way in which we had spent the holiday.  A holiday is a business man's opportunity to have this privilege and many do not know that they can be out of the Temple by about one o'clock and still have a part of the day for recreation.  It seems to me that to spend a part of the holiday in helping the helpless gives me more real happiness than anything else.

Afterwards Nephi and I went to your sister Addie's where as per previous invitation, we were to eat our Thanksgiving dinner.

 

A PLEASANT VISIT.

A few days later I received a visit from Col. and Mrs. Bryce Thomas who were now making their home for a short time in Salt Lake.  Colonel Thomas and his wife were both members of the British aristocracy and of course, very cultured people.  The Colonel was a retired officer of the British army and had served many years in India, his wife also being a resident of Calcutta and daughter a member of the Governor General's staff.

They were living in London while George Q. was presiding over that conference and a warm friendship existed between them.  I felt a little nervous at receiving such distinguished guests, but concluded to treat them in a perfectly natural manner. I had cleaned the dining room and had a pleasant fire in the grate and was seated in my little rocker darning stockings when they arrived.  I was wearing a good black dress, white apron, and as usual wore something white as a finish around the neck of my dress.  I found Bro. Thomas to be a gentleman of very simple but courteous manner and his wife being a real lady there was no ostentation about her.  I know I must have treated her with cordiality, for, as a friend of my dear boy, this was the feeling of my heart towards her.  The afternoon was warm, and as she did not wish to remove her hat, I did not press the matter.  The Colonel seemed to wish me to lead in conversation and relate something of earlier times with us.  Mrs. Thomas, who was a nice looking lady, young for her age, and modestly dressed, seemed to like our house saying it resembled some she had seen in India.  We had a most delightful visit, and soon afterwards they came to see us again.  This time I received them in the parlor, and upon entering they were delighted to see an enlarged life size bust picture of George Q. and Brother Thomas said "If I cannot have a picture like that, there will be a row," or some such expression, and Mrs. Thomas said; - "I never wished for a son until I saw yours."  Again we had a most enjoyable visit together.

 

EXILE.

About this time I was advised, if able, to go into exile with my daughter.  This I as willing to do and would have gone to prison also, rather than betray my brethren or bear witness against them.  I left home in a hurry as most people do when taking flight.  It was on a Saturday and my little grand-daughter Effie came and did my kitchen work while I packed, although the dear child did not know that I was thus engaged.  I had many matters to attend to and it was 3 A.M. before I could retire to rest.  Two hours later, I arose and it was still dark when I arrived at the depot to board the train.  I did not know whether I should ever see my home or my children again.  Anything rather than betray my brethren.

I reached my journey's end about 1 o'clock.  My daughter was surprised to see me, knowing nothing of our intended trip for which we had only a day and a half to prepare.  There was a great washing to be done and the weather was very severe.  Everything had to be dried in the house, but I undertook to see to this part and soon had the clothes hanging upstairs, downstairs, and everywhere.  When we came to start a lady friend was to carry our darling baby and I was to go wit her and the mama to follow after.  There was a certain minister who boarded the train before it started and again when it started so as to see who was on board.  A little later he came and stood square in the car door and actually talked to a man who had us in charge.  There was a lady on board the train with them I was acquainted, but whether she knew me or not she did not come and speak to me.  My daughter was sitting opposite to me as a stranger might do, and wore a white fascinator, which perhaps disguised her.  We were in misery, suffering almost mental agony with fear of detection.

After a while, at one of the stations, the minister stepped off and we breathed a little easier.  Now we neared a city where there was a large station.  In this place dwelt some of our relatives and we were again in terror in case we should see them and be recognized.  We were glad that they were not at the depot, although we loved them very dearly.  Dear Baby did not make a sound, and did not know that she was being carried to a far country in her mother's arms.  Oh, how thankful we were that she did not cry, and felt that our Heavenly Father was very merciful to us.

Now, we arrived in Salt Lake, and additional dread came upon us.  We changed cars and were put in an elegant Pulman where there was but on couple besides ourselves, but alas, had soon to change cars again.  Still we no detected.  While comfortably seated in this car a person came up to us and made himself rather familiar, as I thought, causing a feeling of indignation to arise in my breast; for I very much dislike undue familiarity in anyone.  As we engaged in further conversation, however, I discovered that he was a staunch Latter-Day-Saint and was informed that he came as our guardian to a foreign country, and I accepted him as a good shepherd.

Now we traversed the plains of Colorado and enjoyed the beauties of the Grand Canon (sic) and the Royal Gorge, following the Scenic Route all the way.

Arrived in the city of Pueblo, we found we had to wait an hour and a half, during which time our friend and guide took us through the city and back across the River Arkansas on the street car, and afterwards to lunch.  At 1:30 we boarded the Pullman again for Delheart, Texas, and settled down about 2:30 A.M with the moon shining through the window of our little berth, thankful to be quiet for a few hours.

The following morning, at 10:30 we reached New Mexico and traversed the plains of Texas, landing at Delhart about 2 P.M.

While here an old lady accosted me and would like to have been made acquainted with my business, as people will do sometimes, when traveling, but I was not at all inclined to satisfy her curiosity, but busied myself writing up my journal.  About 9:3 we boarded the train for El Paso, and about 11 settled down in a comfortable berth in which we enjoyed more air than we had been able to get upon the previous night.  The next night we could not get a berth and when the morning came I was much mortified upon being awakened from a drowsy sleep to see other passengers come on board the train looking so bright and fresh while our hair was disheveled and our clothing covered with dust.

About 1 o'clock we reached El Paso and took comfortable quarters, but there was no fire except in a sort of general room or hall.  It was raining, but I kept my precious baby warmly wrapped up in a shawl while I read "Evangeline," her mother meanwhile was transacting some business and seeing some places of interest across the line.  The first chance I had I dedicated our room to the Lord.  Our company had been augmented by this time and we had agreeable companionship.  In the evening I went to see a play entitled "A Poor Relation."  Upon returning I became dreadfully frightened because I could get not answer from my daughter when I knocked at the door.  I knew that the poor child  was dreadfully fatigued but was not prepared for an event of this kind.  So I asked a brother and his wife who were in our party to go and open the bed-room window and call louder, and she awoke, to my great relief.

The next day it was still raining and I missed my cheerful fire at home, but managed to keep baby warm while her mama went also to see the play, "A Poor Relation" in which there was some very good acting.

The next day it was again wet and miserably cold but as Sunday is the day for pleasure and also a great day for business, and as this was my only chance to buy some drawn work which I wanted for Xmas presents, I in company with one of the sisters, went over the border to do a little shopping.  We visited a number of stores and saw a great quantity of drawn work of different grades.  One of the pieces was worth $150.00 and took an expert hand a year to make.  There was also a great amount of silk shawls, filigree work, shell work, etc.  The sister said that this was a very wicked place and I certainly seemed to feel a strange influence as I went from store to store.  This feeling of Oppression seemed to weigh me down, mind and body.  Upon reaching home, even, I could not escape from it, for it seemed to have followed me.  I proposed that we have evening prayer.  Just then our Good Shepherd, as we called our faithful guide and companion, happened to come in and he knelt with us, asking that this influence might be removed, and it was, and peace abode with us.

The next day we continued on our journey, starting off very early as we had a long way to walk and carry our things, and might be detained at the Custom House.  We boarded the train which was to take us as far as Colonia Dublan about 9 A.M.  I was not feeling very well, having slipped while taking a bath upon the previous day and hurt my side.  Besides, having a cold, my lungs hurt me.

We had pleasant company during the journey, having me a Bro. D.H. Harris who had visited in Utah and stayed at the home of my daughter Addie.  We also met a Bro. Boman, a merchant in Dublan.  About 6 A.M. we arrived in that city, staying at the home of our relatives Pres. Holeman Pratt and his cultured family.  We found Aunt Dora to be suffering from Rheumatism and confined to her bed.

I also visited Mrs. Victoria Pratt, whom I had not seen for many years and later in the day Dora's daughter Irene played and sang very sweetly for us, and by special request I sang some of the old love songs that I had sung in my youth.  I also me a Bro. Anson Call who had been a companion of your brother Nephi while has was upon his foreign mission.

We should no doubt have enjoyed a longer visit with our friends her but the weather was a little stormy and as there was fear that the river, which we must cross, was rising and might become dangerous, we were advised to get ready and continue our journey to Colonia Juarez.

About 11 A.M. we were seated in a good conveyance with a fine team and a careful driver.  The ride of about eighteen miles was quite pleasant with exception of a little anxiety with regard to the river.  Our driver's conversation ran on our religion and many marvelous things were related thereto.  During this drive over the mountains, and plains of Old Mexico we saw, for the first time, bunches of misletoe (sic) clinging to other trees as parasites until they kill the tree that feeds them.  We crossed branches of the river several times and when we reached the main crossing, where there was the greatest danger, we crossed that also in safety.  The scenery was beautiful, but when we drew to our journey's end we thought it still more lovely.  The mountains seemed smoother and the valley's prettier and when we saw the settlement with its little homes nestling beneath the mountains, surrounded by orchards, we thought that the prettiest scene of all.  As we drove along the quiet streets we saw some nice little houses and found that many of them were owned by our friends.  It was about 4 P.M. when we reached our journey's end tired, but with thankful hearts.

The house in which we were to make our home was a two story brick structure comfortably furnished and neatly kept.  The lady who owned it was anxious to break up housekeeping and offered to sell some furniture, piano included.  She also brought us in some provisions to make us a good meal.

In the evening our dear friend Bishop Bently called to welcome us.  Also, a little later, Apostle John W. Taylor.  We much appreciated their visit.  We also appreciated the quiet of this little pocket in the mountains where no odor of tobacco befouled the air and no word of profanity was heard and we were not in terror every minute, that the officers of the law would come and carry us off to prison for obeying a higher law than their own.  Another great advantage, we were under the shadow of the Stake Academy.

We soon began to fix up the rooms we were to occupy, our Good Shepherd rendering what assistance he could, putting up stoves while other friends helped to fit and sew carpets, etc.  Our kitchen was dark, with only one high window with small panes of glass, bare floor, but a good stove and some very common chairs for which we paid a high price.  Our window faced east, but no ray of sunlight entered the room.  It is said that the settlement of Jaurez is not laid out strictly to the cardinal points owing to the peculiar position of the canyons, so strange to say, the only spot touched by the sunlight was the clock.  Our bedroom was very light and pleasant, but we could not put up the bedstead for some time owing to the fact that some slats were needed, so we had to make our bed upon the floor, having two good mattresses, but it was hard for me to stoop to make the bed.  To enter our bedroom we had to cross a shed and the corner of Sister Lack's living room.  It was quite a trial to me to be obliged to intrude upon her privacy although she was very kind and polite about it.  From our window we could see the mountains which seemed like a protecting arm around us and reminded us of home.

Across the street south was a pretty frame house painted in a nice shade of green with buff trimmings.  Flowering vines covered the porch and shade trees grew on each side of the path from the gate to the house, and here stood the Mexican 'olla' or drinking jar with its hospitable cup near, offering refreshment to all who desired it.

In this pretty home lived a dear friend of your Uncle Charles Sister Deseret Eyring of St. George, whose husband Bro. Henry Eyring was one of the leading men of St. George and also of Colonia Juarez, and was the very essence of honor uprightness, and integrity to God and his cause.  His wife was acquainted with your Cousin Zaides, in her childhood and with your brother George M. Cannon when he was an infant, he having been born in St. George.  It was her excellent son who helped us in our emergency.

The following Sunday, at the afternoon meeting I was struck with the number of children present, and wondered if the spirit of the meeting would not be marred by the hum of baby voices, which caused a confusion in my opinion, but soon found that the presence of these precious jewels was no detriment at all to the flow of the Spirit of God.

At this meeting I met Sister Annie Wride Harris and Sister Fannie Hawley Lewis.  The latter, when I last saw her was a little curley headed, rosy cheeked Fanny Hawley and it seemed good to meet them in a foreign land.  On returning home Sister Gladys Bently invited me to go for a drive with her around the settlement, which I much appreciated.  When I had last me her she was a beautiful little blond maiden, Gladys Woodmansee, president of the Primary Association of the 20th Ward and now the honored wife of our dear friend Bishop Bently. 

Although it was winter the sun was constantly shining so I made two sun-bonnets out of a piece of old sheeting, with paper slats inserted to stiffen them.  Being a milliner by trade I had not forgotten how to do such things and one I made for Baby particularly was considered very cute.  I also made another for an Xmas present for baby Jasamine from a piece of clean white flour sack, but it was neat and as becoming as the one made for our own baby, and pronounced very cute by her parents.  Aunt Margaret said she would have her picture taken in it as a souvenir of our first Christmas in Mexico.

 

CHRISTMAS IN MEXICO.

The day before Christmas I was very busy preparing for the feast, for Aunt Margaret's family and our own were to celebrate the day together.  I cleaned and prepared the turkey and made a plum pudding.  On Xmas morning as the pudding was boiling merrily upon the stove, I was invited to see the Christmas tree and presents.  My daughter Kate was delighted wit the piece of drawn work which I had purchased for her during my stay in El Paso and I presented my baby with a rubber rattle and little Jasamine with the sun bonnet before mentioned and being a very pretty baby she looked sweet in it.  My daughter Kate gave me a rocking chair and Kenneth and Clyde presented me with a little mirror three by four inches in size; an acceptable gift, as I had none by which to make my toilet.  Think of it!  Little Miss Marguerette gave me an orange and some nuts and apples and she had also bought two little pin trays which she gave to babies Catherine and Jasamine to present to their mothers, a thoughtful act which brought tears to my eyes.  Aunt Margaret gave me three white soup plates with gold edges.  There were some Christmas gifts which my sons had put in our trunks for us, but our luggage had been delayed and had not yet arrived.

During the morning, our friends Mrs. Lillian H. Cannon called and brought me a beautiful handkerchief ornamented by her own deft fingers.  She also brought a bunch of mistletoe.  So much kindness helped us to bear the separation from our loved ones at home, but filled my heart with emotion.

Leaving our friends chatting I went into the kitchen and made a large batch of ginger snaps for the little ones, while the odor of roast turkey and fine cabbage sent forth appetizing odors from Aunt Margaret's room.  At three o'clock we were seated in Aunt Margaret's little low Mexican chairs around her little low Mexican table loaded with an excellent repast.

The turkey was perfectly cooked and was delicious in spite of the fact that no onions could be procured for the dressing, and although there were no cranberries, some excellent plum jelly was not a whit behind them in taste.

During the afternoon, little Miss Exora, daughter of our friend Mrs. Bently, called to see us and was invited to eat gingersnaps, and telling her mother later of this little enjoyment, the next morning Sister Bently sent me a loving Christmas card, which touched my heart in its finest fibres being a stranger in a strange land.  It occurred to me that the card might have been the only one in the settlement and its is now safely placed in my box of treasures.  We spent the evening pleasantly in Aunt Margaret's cozy parlor and before separating, Margaret read a portion from the Book of St. Matthew and then we had prayers and so ended our first Xmas in Old Mexico.

 

I STUDY THE SPANISH LANGUAGE

I felt an earnest desire to learn the Spanish Language so on the last day of the year I, with six others, took our first lesson in that interesting study, our teacher being a Brother Maurique Gonzales of the Juarez Academy and a pure Lamanite.  He was a very young man, only about 20 years old, rather undersized with very thick black hair, well kept, brown eyes and of pleasant deportment.  His history was quite interesting he having been moved upon to come to the Colonies by a power he knew not of.  After a while he returned to his home, many hundred miles away, but soon came back.  It seemed to him the right course to pursue.  He was very anxious to learn the English language and was determined to accomplish it.  He must have been about seventeen years old when he cast his lot with the Saints.  He had to depend upon the labor of his hands for his daily bread; his clothing, however meagre (sic) must come from the same source; also the means to pay for his schooling.  The learning of three very important matters confronted him before he would be of much service to the people with whom he had chosen to dwell.

First, he must learn the English language; second, the principles of the Gospel; and third, have a desire to serve God in all things in order to be able to endure the privations of pioneer life.  The English language he had acquired by study at the Academy and by association with the people; the principles of the Gospel he had also learned at the same place, and his utter dependence upon the Supreme Being for his daily needs increased his faith day by day and made the hardships of Pioneer life bring him each day into closer fellowship with his brethren and sisters.  He also enjoyed the privilege of associating with such men as Anthony W. Ivins, president of the whole Stake of Juarez, Guy C. Wilson, of the Juarez Stake Academy, and Bishop Joseph C. Bently of Colonia Juarez.  These influencial (sic) brethren did all in their power to obtain employment for him, and almost before he was prepared to do so he began to teach the Spanish language at the Academy.  A little incident will serve to show how well he had learned the principles of the Gospel;

When we first began to study we held our class in the evening and noticed that our young teacher liked to linger and talk with us after the class was over.  One evening I asked him how to spell "coffee" in Spanish.  He looked at me with an anxious expression on is face, and said, "You must not use coffee."  While I smiled at his anxiety, I admired his integrity and told him I had ceased the use of tea and coffee before he had had an existence.  He seemed to have as clear an understanding of the principles of the Gospel as if he had been born and reared amongst us.  We considered him a man of destiny, he may achieve discinction (sic) and be able to promote the welfare of his people in the legislative hells of their nation.

We used the "Combined Spanish and English Method," by Alberto de Tornos and the First Spanish Reader of the Wormans Modern Language Series.  There was a great deal of hard work in our studies, but we were not afraid of that.

Ever since there had been a school established, taught and controlled by the Latter-Day-Saints, I had felt a great desire to attend it, more especially to learn their method of teaching Theology, and now that the Stake Academy was situated but a block away from our residence I resolved to see what I could do.  So one evening after our Spanish class I ventured to ask our teacher what he thought the fee would be to take Theology alone.  He very pleasantly answered that it would be nothing.  I thought that was rather strange.  As the term for the new year was just starting, I resolved not to lose the opportunity that presented itself.  I was received in the kindest manner by President Guy C. Wilson, who conducted the class, and found that they were studying the Book of Doctrine and Covenants.  I was glad of this, as I had not studied this book to any great extent and I applied myself to the task wit ha great deal of pleasure.  My happiness was increased, as upon further attendance I found how much of the Spirit of God was there.  This is the difference in studying Theology as we read and pass along in life, and studying it in a class that is opened and closed with prayer, where appropriate music is sung and the teacher gives his instruction by the gift and power of God.  Bro. Wilson, besides being all that could be desired mentally and spiritually, was one of the ablest teachers of the day, had had an experience in the missionary field, and a personal knowledge of things in general which made his services invaluable as Principal of the Academy and instructor of a class of young people.  He treated me with the greatest respect, placing a chair for me near his desk so that I could sit in view of all the class and when a question was asked that the younger students were unable to answer, I felt at liberty to raise my hand in response.  I had lived in the Church the greater part of its existence and was a witness of many of its important events when I was a mere child, having been born in the same year that the first quorum of apostles was ordained. 

We had bought dinner plates wit the Nauvoo Temple printed upon them and around the rim of these plates were printed the name of these apostles, also the names of the first presidency of the Church at the time of President Young's incumbency.  The names of the presiding officers of the church were placed over the spires of the temple and the names of the apostles around the rim.  I was able to relate many such little incidents which seemed to interest the class. 

One day in the latter part of the month of February we, my daughter Kate and I, received an invitation to dine at President Ivin's home.  Among other invited guests were Sister Pearl and Apostle John W. Taylor and his family, all Pilgrims down there for the winter.  The house was very much like the beautiful home of my daughter Addie at Forest Dale, and left nothing to be desired.  The dinner was elegantly served, one of the courses being wild turkey, captured by the celebrated hunter, our gracious host.  A pleasant evening followed, during which time a man of God prophesied and blessed each of us.  To me he said; -"You shall live many years and do a work in the Temple which your husband is preparing for you.  Times shall so change that you can go the distance in a night and a day" and he closed by speaking in a complimentary manner of my children and spoke many encouraging words to me.  He also prophesied that President Ivins would become an apostle!  This man of God took us home in his conveyance while President Ivins, lantern in hand escorted the rest of the party to their homes.  Sister Ivins also did all in her power to make us happy.  I always feel when I see her that I must put my arms around her because she so much resembles her dear father, Apostle Erastus Snow.  Her mother, although about eighty years of age, is also a charming woman.

About a month later we spent another very pleasant evening at the home of Sister Eunice Harris.  There were a number of distinguished guests there also and we spent a pleasant time singing the Zion and listening to remarks by the brethren in authority.  A man high in the Church prophesied concerning Bro. Harris and gave a beautiful blessing to Sister Ivins who was not in good health.  Refreshments were served, the white bread and butter being not the lease delicious part of it for we were without butter from March until June and had only dark musty flour, paying a high price even for that to make bread of.

On the 17^th of March, at the opening of our Theological class, our teacher excused himself as he had to attend to another department, and asked me to take charge of the class during his absence.  I wished to decline in favor of one of the other students, but he would not accept the position.  I did not attempt to instruct the class in the lesson assigned for the day, but bore a strong testimony to the class that there was no safety or real happiness except in yielding strict obedience to those placed in authority over us.  I related incidents showing how the Lord will help those who rely on him.  I urged the class never to fail to respond to calls made upon them by those in authority and showed the evils that result from failing to do so.  I also spoke upon the evils of waltzing.

Later in the day, at our Spanish class, our young teacher, Bro. Maurique Gonzales related a dream he had had concerning me.  It was as follows: - "I dreamed that I was at my home at Bishop Bently's and that Sister Mary L. Morris came to see us.  It seemed that I said to her, - "Sister Morris, I want to give you a blessing."  She asked, "Have you the authority to do so?"  I answered, "I have not as much of the Priesthood as I would wish, but think I have enough to give you a blessing."  She answered, - "Then you may do so."  Then I place my hands upon her head and said; - "In the name of the Lord, and by the priesthood I hold, I give you a blessing.  The Lord has a purpose in your coming here to Mexico, and he is well pleased with your labors in the past, and he will help you to acquire and understand the Spanish language.  You will preach the Gospel to the natives in many ways.  There are many ways in which you can do this, both in precept and by example.  And I do this in the name of Jesus, Amen."

I noticed that he was very happy in speaking of the above dream and the happy influence seemed to remain with him as the days rolled on.

As the spring advanced we found that there were terrific winds.  The sky would sometimes be as clear as upon a frosty starlit night at home, when suddenly the wind would rise and blow so hard that your wraps would be blown over your head, while your veil would leave you forever.  A thin fascinator over the fence was the only protection from the flying drifting sands.

On the evening of the day of our arrival I had accompanied one of the little boys to a neighbor's well, about a block away, to fetch some drinking water, and wondered how a path so near to the center of town should be so little trodden, but my next trip, in daylight, revealed that fact that we had settled in a sandy locality.  In passing the corner west of us, I was vividly reminded of my five hundred mile walk along the banks of the Platt River in crossing the plains, for when the wind would be raging at this corner, the sand would be heaped up as in a snow drift, but the wading through it would be much heavier.  While this was going on outside, inside, with doors and windows tightly closed, everything would be covered thickly with brown dust, even the floors would be covered.  Upstairs in our bedroom the same condition existed.  At Aunt Margaret's parlor door, the sand had to be shoveled out after the storm was over.  This would continue for three days at a time sometimes.  At the Academy the desks, benches and floors were in the same condition and the leaves of the books filled with sand.

Once I read of a country where the wind blew at such a fearful rate that the sand would find its way into the dinner pot and into the works of a watch you were carrying, and have come to the conclusion that this country was the one referred to.  Accompanying this excessive sand were myriads of ants.  Her is a poem I wrote upon this subject; -

 

ANTS

 

There are ants on the windows and ants on the floors

There are ants on the tables and ants out of doors; -

The ants out of doors are of wonderful size

At a casual glance you'd mistake them for flies.

There are ants in the butter and ants in the cream

In molasses and sugar they also are seen.

There are ants on the pie crust, when perchance you have any,

And when you have meat, Oh, my. There are many.

They eat it like so many ravenous beasts

And hold high carnival over their feasts;

They eat it, and eat it, yes, right to the bone

And never let go till the owner had come.

We duck it, and duck it, right into the water

Till among these smart ants there has been quite a slaughter

We pick it and pick it until we tire,

And then feel like throwing the rest in the fire.

And when, of an evening, we sit down to write,

Here they come running, right under the light

With a gnat they are carrying, right under the lamp

Or a piece of a fly, over letter and stamp.

Then while we're writing, and thinking ahead,

They've cleared gnats from the table and gone off to bed.

Upstairs we find others, or daintier form,

On our beds and our pillows, but they do us no harm.

We've a lot of dried apples outside of the door

And, with tight lid, and good latch, we thought, they're secure.

But here come the ants, with the greatest of ease

And roam o'er our food and do as they please.

In one lady's cupboard are thousands of pairs

And some in the parlor, and plenty upstairs,

To control these pest she is really unable

So sets her raw meat right square on the table!

There was one place we thought would be pretty secure,

It was on our high window, in front of the door,

But this very morning, our hopes proved all vain,

For up the white curtain marched the triumphant train.

One evening, while sitting at the table to write

An ant caught a fly, but she put him to flight; -

So we see by this little incident here

That sometimes the victor has the victim to fear.

May 9, 1903

 

While the house in which we were living was undergoing some repair, a flight of stairs had been put in the yard outside near the fence which divided our house from the canal.  Here, with my precious baby in my arms, I would often sit and read or write or study, and these few lines express some of my feelings when thinking of these times; -

 

THOSE DEAR OF STAIRS.

 

Dedicated to my dear little Catherine.

I sat on those steps at the close of the day

When my heart would often wander

To dear ones, now so far away,

Of whom I loved to ponder.

Could we but see them at the door,

Or hear their much loved voice

Or clasp their hands, as we did before,

How would our hearts rejoice!

These steps were here by the merest chance

Well, just to be out of the way.

But to me a boon, so far in advance

Of bare ground, at the close of the day.

The house was undergoing repairs

Being made more roomy and good,

So they lifted out these ancient stairs,

Putting new ones where they had stood.

These stairs were painted in color buff,

Numbering five times three; -

To reach the top was quite enough

For dear little baby and me.

These steps were reared at the eastern fence

On the clearest part of the lot; -

The passer by need not come nigh

This dedicated spot.

There was not a sign of a shady tree

O'er the place where I wanted to think,

With my precious baby on my knee

Where the kine came trooping to drink.

She was very patient and very good

Though her little heart was yearning,

Wishing and wishing her mother would

Sometime that way be turning. 

The eastern mountains loomed up high

As we sat on these dear old stairs,

A sluggish stream moved slowly by

Like one who knew no cares.

To our face was the grandest of all grand views,

Where the sun, on his way to rest

Shed his gorgeous rays of a thousand hues

From the mountain's golden crest.

I sat on these steps for many an hour

With paper and pencil in hand; -

Sometimes the Muse would have full power,

At others, for facts I stand.

And if I were asked for a sketch or so

For some particular time,

Out to these good old steps I'd go

To drill on my new-born rhyme.

With steps and my baby all to myself,

As the cow goes leisurely by,

Lashing her tail, or licking herself; -

But never a fear had I.

For a fence enclosed these good old stairs

And the house where they long had stood.

There were trees outside, to the owner's pride

And an orchard, very good.

I would spend on my Spanish full four hours long;

My Mexican History, too,

My Theological work, I had no wish to shirk

My Church History was pleasant, as true.

I sang for my baby the songs of yore

As I wooed her to peaceful rest

And the sun went down, as he had before,

'Neath the mountain's rosy crest.

And I thought as I sat on these kindly stairs

Narrow and steep though they be; -

How is it the Master, with his million cares

Has considered a worm like me?

 

The climate was a good deal milder than in Utah, and in February the almond trees were in full bloom and the flies as bad as they are in the Fall at home.  I remember in the month of December, when returning from meeting at 4 P.M. feeling the sun uncomfortably warm.  As the season advanced and the land became dry, the water being low teemed with animal life.  Myriads of little insects, called 'skaters' darting across the surface at lightning speed.  If I must eat animals I prefer to eat them cooked and that is what careful people did by boiling every drop of water intended for drinking purposes.  At other times when the water was high, the quality was unsurpassed.

Towards the close of the Academic year President Wilson our teacher, told us that is would not be possible for us to complete the study of the entire Book of Doctrine and Covenants and asked the class if they had any suggestions to offer.  As I was taking only a few studies I concluded that I could go over the book, take notes of the more important parts and report to the class.  Our Principal approved of the proposition, so I had the privilege of reading the book of Doctrine and Covenants through and of making careful note of the contents of the same.  This benefitted me and rendered a little assistance to the class also.

I had also discovered a way of paying for my tuition.  I found that the poor but worthy saints of the community had covenanted to pay two per cent of their income towards the support of this invaluable institution of learning in order to provide education for the young.  In availing myself of this privilege I took great pleasure in doing this and anything else in which these good saints were interested.

On the 5^th of May the Mexican holiday, 'El cinco de Mayo' was celebrated.  A rainstorm prevented the celebration being held in the Park as intended.  The auditorium however was packed and my friend Mrs. Bently delivered the oration in a most pleasing manner.  She was followed by a native gentleman and afterwards by President Ivins.  Then followed the balloting for the "Queen of the May" which was very interesting.  With each ballot one was supposed to drop in the box a small coin to help defray the expenses of the celebration.  Roses being in fullbloom the throne upon which the chosen lady sat was beautifully decorated with a profusion of flowers and all went off with joy, peace and good feeling.

I had greatly enjoyed attending the closing exercises at the Academy and on the 6^th of May we attended the Alumni Banquet, which was an occasion long to be remembered.  That sweet loving influence which pervades all the institutions of learning in the Church was no less in evidence here.  We were treated in the kindest and most respectful manner and later in the evening I was called upon to make a speech in behalf of my Pilgrim Sisters.  My brief response was an expression of appreciation of the kindness shown us, our sense of the value of the Academy to the community, both educationally and spiritually.  As a compliment, they afterwards made us members of the Alumni Association.

On the 14^th of this month I celebrated my sixty-seventh birthday.  It was anything but a joyous day for me.  Our precious baby was not well and the elders were called in to administer to her.  My own health had not been good during all my sojourn in this far off land, and today especially, I missed the companionship of my dear sons and the visits that my daughters, with their little ones, were wont to make upon my natal day, bringing some token of love in their hands.  Still I felt thankful for the presence of the two I had with me, whom I loved so well, and also that in spite of trials I had been enabled to keep the faith which was dearer to me than life.

A day or two later a Peace Meeting was to be held here, as in nearly every town in the United States and in Europe also.  I was asked by sister Gladys Bently and Sister Eunice Harris to give some Peace sentiments.  I responded by giving quotations from the revelation by the Prophet Smith given on the subject of the Revolutionary War. 

At this time we were making preparations to take a trip to El Paso, the principle matter of business being to get me a set of teeth.  I had had my mouth prepared while in Salt Lake by having my teeth extracted and the gums were now hardened and my mouth in condition be be fitted.  Think of going more that a hundred miles over dry dusty plains to get a set of teeth!  We started at 4 A.M. and had pleasant company, Bro Guy C. Wilson, Sister Ivins and her daughters, My daughter Kate and Baby.  While there we had the baby photographed, getting a good picture, and I got my teeth.  After we had boarded the train I put a piece of banana into my mouth and experienced the strangest sensation, knowing no more what to do with it than a cat might with an astronomical instrument.  But practice makes perfect and after a time my teeth were a comfort to me. 

Upon my return home I found a parcel awaiting me, two beautiful books from my sons Nephi and George Q. a dainty handkerchief from my daughter Effie, and other presents from my daughter Addie.  These gifts and the loving words contained in their letters cheered our hearts and we retired to rest with weary bodies but very happy.

Soon afterwards, perhaps from the fatigue of the journey I became very sick with fever.  Your sister did all that was in her power to help me, but one night my throat was so sore that I was afraid to go to bed.  After due consideration of our circumstances, concluded to administer to myself.  I did it as if doing so for another person, asking my Heavenly Father to acknowledge it, and He did, for the next morning there was no more trouble with my throat. 

During my illness Bishop Bently called and asked me to accompany him and a party to Colonia Diaz to attend a conference.  I regretted being unable to go.

After a few days we entertained about twenty-four guests in our home, Apostle M.F. Cowley, Louis C. Kelsch, Bishop J.C. Bently and family, and President Ivins and his wife.  Before dispersing we held a lovely little cottage meeting and many comforting words were said.  Often my heart yearns for a return of those days, although fraught with many trials.  The love that was within me for those people cannot be expressed, and it was recriprocated; - it seemed an eternal bond of love that cannot be severed.

During the same month we also entertained Mrs. Fanny Harper and little Ida, Mrs. Lillian H. Cannon and little Marba (named from her father Abram by reversing the letters) Mrs. Fanny Lewis and Mrs. Hester Lewis and little girls, Mrs. Guy C. Wilson, Mrs. Bessie Eyring and daughter, and the Misses Ana Ivins and Mable Stevens.

In June, I opened a free class to teach little girls the art of plan sewing, and although it was raining we had a good turnout, and the girls were so much interested in their work that it was 6 o'clock before we separated.

The house in which we were living was undergoing some repairs, so that it became necessary for us to move to the hotel.  Our host was a thorough Latter Day Saint, handsome, energetic and genial in spite of his advanced years and his wife, our hostess, a daughter of Isaiah M. Coombs a gentleman whose acquaintance I had formed forty years previous.  Their little daughter is as kind as her parents and is, like her mother, very much in love with our baby.

When the school year opened it became necessary to close the sewing classes.  I had one little class composed of native children and upon the closing day I suggested that one of the larger girls, who had attended the class for some time, might give further instruction to one bright little girl of five, but she emphatically replied "No, you caro la signora!" (I want the lady)  She did not want to be taught by another girl, but by the teacher or "Madam."

On the 24^th of July the committee on arrangements asked me to give patriotic sentiments.  In compliance with this request, I replied very briefly, and in referring to the wonderful faith exhibited by the pioneers of 1847 related an incident in my own experience.  I went to the meeting trusting in God, and he did not fail me and I was happy in having done my duty.

Quarterly Conference was approaching and as we thought it prudent not to meet some of our friends from Salt Lake, we went to pay a visit to some friends who had frequently extended an invitation for us to do so.  A week later Bishop Bently called on us to bring a telegram from my son Nephi telling us to be in El Paso the following Sunday.  Upon our return to the hotel all were glad to see us, even poor old Jeff, the faithful watchdog, who came out wagging his tail and giving short barks of joyful welcome.

While in El Paso we visited the smelters and noticed that the country along the road had the appearance of having been convulsed at some time and I believe it occurred at the crucifixion of our Redeemer.  The weather was so warm that while merely holding baby in the cool of the evening, perspiration would drop from my face.  After a visit of two or three days in El Paso we went on to Mexico City, the capital of the Republic.  When we passed through the Customs House and were comfortably seated in the cars we adjusted the time by our watches by advancing it twenty-five minutes in conformity with Mexican time, and continued our warm dusty journey with as much fortitude as we could muster.  That night we could not obtain a sleeper and were dreadfully fatigued the following day.  Fortunately the following night we were more successful and did indeed enjoy entering the clean Pullman car and washing our dusty faces in a clean toilet basin, for the toilet room in the other car was even more dusty than the traveling compartments.  In the morning we found the ground soaked with rain, the air fresh and cool and the scenery simply grand.  The fields were covered with flowers, the prickly pears in full bloom and aloes (century plants) growing six feet high and as large as trees.

We reached Mexico City about noon and during the afternoon our guide took us to the Hotel Gullion where we occupied the room in which Apostle Teasdale me the Mexican officials at the time the Gospel was introduced into Mexico.  It was a great, grand, historic room but there were seven persons to occupy it!  When time came to retire we had some little amusement and were taken back in memory to ship-board travel, but we managed very well, as there was a balcony where some could sit while others retired.  Baby enjoyed being out there looking at the houses, horses and carriages and at the passers by, even if her eyes were sore from the excessive dust.  I too, was much interested in reading the signs across the narrow street, which were in the Spanish language, and upon the level of our eyes as we sat on the balcony of the third story.

Not only our baby, but her mother also, suffered dreadfully from sore eyes and was obliged to be led out to dinner blindfolded.  As this hotel offered such poor accomodation (sic), the following day we removed to No 50 Humbolt Street, headquarters of the Mexican Mission, but poor Mamma was so afflicted that she had to retire to a dark room for rest and quiet.  Papa took care of his little daughter, and I too, took some much needed repose.

When we had rested, our friends took us upon the roof of the house to show us the world-renowned Popocatapetl, the highest mountain in Mexico, save it be Mt. Elias.

About ten o'clock I retired, but not to sleep for my poor girl was suffering so intensely with her eyes that I was up and down attending to her until about two o'clock, when she was administered to and was able to sleep.  All this time, and for long afterwards, I was fighting mosquitoes slapping my face, and boxing my ears to kill the pests, although sprinkling my bed with an antidote for them.  As I am writing it seems as if I can still feel the sting of those and other pests, although such a long time has elapsed. 

The following day, your sister being better, we went out to see the sights of the city, amongst other places of interest being the Capitol Building, in the court of which we saw a monument to the memory of the beloved and revered Bonito Juarez.  The figure is life size and is seated in an arm chair.  The expression upon the face is firm but calm, as if he had seen many trials and vicissitudes.  This privilege have ma great pleasure as a sketch of this great and good man had been given in our Reaper's Club in Salt Lake City during the time that I was a member of that organization.  We were not allowed to visit the interior of the Capitol Building nor could we see the interior of the Cathedral at this time.

We did, however, enjoy the privilege of seeing the renowned tree, spoken of in the account of Mexico as; - El arbol de la noche triste (The tree of the dismal night) under which the great conqueror Cortez, stood and wept, as he called the roll and found how many of his soldiers had fallen in battle of the previous day. 

We also visited the Military Academy and White House of Mexico, properly called Castillo de Chapultipec, which is situated on a high hill and surrounded by a great park.

After making an ascent which took us about thirty minutes we reached the Castle gate and begged leave to rest a few minutes upon an iron bench, a request which was granted by a courteous youth after consultation with a superior officer.  Upon asking if we might enter the Castle, we were told that the following day, Sunday, would be visiting day, so after a rest descended the 140 steps, between many steep inclines.  You may be sure that after our long walk a cup of chocolate and some buns were very acceptable to our famished systems.  Later, we say an old church and a monument erected in honor of the heroes who fought in the war with the United States.

The following day we took the train to Cuernavaca, staying at the Hotel Miralos, with Bro. H. L. Hall proprietor.  This hotel was like a fairy scene outside, with seats, canvas lounges, easy chairs and tables upon which were vases of beautiful flowers and many newspapers and periodicals.  While sitting here our eyes rested upon the most enchanting scene.  The courtyard, or patio, scrupulously clean, was laden with a luxuriant growth of flowers of every hue, climbing along the walls and falling gracefully from hanging baskets.  In the center of the court a fountain sprayed rainbow colors over all within its radius, while the splash of its cool waters made music to our ears.

Entering the hotel, we found the floor tiled in large bricks with rush mats in the parlor and bed rooms and everything very clean and beautiful flowers meeting your eyes wherever you go.  The narrow street upon which the hotel fronted was very clean and paved with large smooth cobbles.  The sleeping room and parlors were situated upon opposite sides of the street so that there was no rush or gazing crowds.

The next day, our party of five, with two "ninos" went to see the sugar plantation of the great Spanish explorer, Herandez Cortez.  We were mounted upon little burros with flat little basket chairs firmly strapped upon their backs.  The owner of the burros was also our guide so that we suffered no anxiety upon our journey but in our effort to remain seated in our unusual position.  Our guide, a sweet young missionary, son-in-law to one of the neighbors walked along side, which added much to our pleasure.  Travelling along the narrow green lanes through which we passed, reminded us of the flight of Joseph and Many and the infant Jesus into Egypt.  We met a great many natives along the road and greeted them with a cheery good-morning in their own language, a courtesy which they very pleasantly returned.

Among other natives whom we saw, was an Albino, one of those persons who have white hair, white skin and pink or red eyes.  We asked our guide how the natives regarded such persons and he replied as something miraculous and that they were held in great respect.

The sugar factory was said to be the oldest in North America, but was not in operation at that time.  The end of our journey brought us to the Cortez Palace.  The very idea of visiting this historic edifice was delightful to me.  We descended from our burros and entered the ancient palace where we saw in the grand reception room magnificent oil paintings of Mexican heroes, one being a life size portrait of Bonito Juarez.  Just to look at the face of this grand General who had freed his people and taught them just and wholesome laws filled my heart with joy and admiration.

We returned to the Capitol by train and as the train was an hour late, we had to wait at the rude depot.  Here half clad little natives crowded around us begging with a pitiful little whine for "centivos, centivos, centivos." (cents, cents, cents)  After we had gone quite a distance upon our journey we came upon the identical half nude little chaps again.  We could hardly believe our eyes!  While we had journeyed in a horseshoe shaped route they had traversed the mountain and were there to continue their pleading cry.  These mites were really professional beggars.

The train was very late and about the time that we should have reached our destination we came upon a washout, and had to transfer on to another train as the bridge over which we should have passed had been washed away.  The night was dark and wet.  After stepping over baggage, etc. we were helped by the train hands to cross a gulch, walking upon ties, shining with wet and lighted by a fire to which we had to pass so close that our clothing might have caught fire, but it did not.  We could see the dark waters below.  My poor Katie was behind me blindfolded, being helped across by a train official.  Never was I so thankful to grasp the hand of a stranger as in this hour of peril.  After several more delays we arrived home at 3 A.M. and retired an hour later.

The next day we took car to Ixtacolco and saw the Viga Canal, called the Aztec Floating Gardens.  Here we saw Aztecs living in their true native way.  We had now returned from Cuernavaca and were back again at the missionary headquarters in Mexico City, and this being the 15^th of September we went to Zocola Park in the evening to see the fireworks and attend the festivities, hear the ringing of the Liberty Bell, and to see the President of the Republic, who stands at near the bell as possible when it rings at midnight, which occurs every year upon this date.  However, finding the crowd so dense, and being afraid of pickpockets, we came back to the house, entering the door as the big bell pealed out,  followed by all the bells and whistles of the city, and this deafening noise continued for half an hour it seemed to me.  We retired, but not to enjoy undisturbed rest, for our friends, the squads of missionary boys who had stayed to witness the exciting moment of the ringing of the Old bell pealing out another year of Liberty for Old Mexico, returned with loud and long knocks on the great iron door of the missionary headquarters.

The next day we witnessed the great parade and at noon heard the bells of the Cathedral ring out a merry peal and saw President Diaz.

After the great parade, fagged, famished and very warm we were glad to return to the house for a little rest and also to do some packing as our trip to Mexico was drawing to a close.

Before leaving however, I went to see the tomb of Bonito Juarez.  Upon the top of the sarcophagus is a full length recumbent figure of this great man, the head and shoulders lying I the lap of the Goddess of Liberty.  With love and reverence I gazed on the calm, gentle yet resolute face of this noble patriot, who loved his people more than his own life.  The aged native in charge have me a few flowers from those which were kept fresh upon the marble brow.

In this cemetery were monuments to many Mexican heroes.  One was, I think, to the memory of Edalgo, of whom there was also a life size oil painting in the Cortez Palace.

To the right were catacombs, of which I had read but never seen.  I visited this cemetery alone and enjoyed the solemnity of the last resting place of thes benefactors of mankind.  I should have enjoyed to remain longer but was obliged to get ready for our departure.

We passed through the Custom House without difficulty and here we had to separate from the dear friends in whose company we had so much enjoyed our trip.

Our return journey was uneventful and we received a kindly welcome from our friends in Colonia Juarez.  It seemed pleasant to rest after so much traveling in our nice cool room, and review in memory the scenes we had passed through.

We now resumed the even tenor of our ways, working, studying, and attending meetings as usual.

At the next conference of the Juarez Stake a slight departure in the conduct of the meeting was made by Apostle John W. Taylor, calling some of the sisters to the stand to take part.  Among others were Sister Nellie T. Taylor and myself.

When it came my turn to speak I asked the presiding brother who had called me to the stand if he had in mind any particular subject upon which he wished me to speak.  He replied; -"Speak as you are led."

I suggested to the audience that perhaps I was too much frightened to be led by the Spirit of God at all.  However, I did feel led to speak upon a subject which had weighed heavily upon my mind for some time; - that of criticizing the conduct of our brethren and sisters and making their faults a theme of conversation in company, or at meal times.  Referring to my work as a missionary to new converts, I said that my council to them was to attend to their meetings, secret and family prayers and above all to keep themselves from associating with apostates, for the words of such are like a sting of a poisonous snake and will result in spiritual death.  Having seen my nearest and dearest friends die spiritually, I knew whereof I spoke.  To illustrate, I took a handkerchief from my hand satchel and presupposing it to be of good quality and free from blemish I inserted a pin in the center, showing that by this very vind instrument an incision could me made.  But by pulling, stretching and writhing, a real hole could be made.  And so a persons character could be blackened by false accusation until they were made to appear really bad.

I had no fear of consequences as long as the Spirit of God was upon me, but when I sat down I felt afraid to meet the people afterwards, at least some to whom these remarks might apply and who might take offence at them.

When Apostle Taylor arose he endorsed all that I had said, speaking of me and my children in the highest terms.  Still, I was afraid to meet the people who had listened to me and I asked the apostle if he thought that the people would stone me  "I will stand by you," he replied.  A younger apostle expressed himself in a similar manner.  The latter took up the theme in his remarks and it was adopted in a far reaching manner subsequently.

As I walked through the departing audience on my way from the stand, one or more persons expressed their approval of what I had said, and one lady, whom I dreaded to meet more than the others, came and putting her arms around me kissed me and said; - "I shall try to be a better woman."

Aunt Margaret's house, which had been enlarged and renovated was now finished, so we left the hotel and went back to her house where we now had better and more commodious accomodation (sic).

We had now two nice rooms upstairs and one downstairs, with a wee wee porch of about four feet square, but railed off to keep baby from the river which ran near by.  This was very acceptable as she could play there and be safe.

Soon after moving into our new quarters we received a very unexpected visit from Mrs. Sarah B. Russell and her sister, Mrs. Belle M. Guthrie Johnson.  This meeting was a pleasure, as we were young women when we met in or about the year 1867.  We are grandmothers now and have the infirmities of age creeping upon us.  We talked of the days of twenty years ago.

These ladies live in a colony higher than we are and over a rugged rocky road.  It is cool almost all year round and flowers bloom in abundance.  To meet these ladies seemed like meeting those beyond the grave.  But the gospel light is still burning in their hearts.  They have left home and country and dear one in order to live a higher law of that same gospel that calls forth even deeper love and higher admiration.  May peace ever attend them.

 

ANOTHER PATRIARCHAL BLESSING.

A blessing given by Patriarch Miles Park Romney, Dec. 13^th, 1903, in Colonia Juarez, Mexico, on the head of Mary Lois Walker Morris, Born May 14, 1835 in Leek, Staffordshire, England, G.B.  Daughter of Mary Godwin and William G. Walker; -

Sister Mary Morris, In the name of Jesus Christ, and by virtue of authority of the priesthood I give you a patriarchal blessing.  You are of the house of Israel through the loins of Ephraim and you were reserved by the Lord to come forth in this dispensation.  You were very faithful in your former estate and the Lord loves you.

You have done much good in you day and generation, have been faithful as a wife, considerate and kind as a mother, and your children will rise up and call you blessed throughout all eternity.

Your descendants will become exceedingly numerous, and will be called among the faithful in Zion.

You have received many blessings and will yet receive many manifestations of the power of God.

When you seek the Lord in behalf of the sick in prayer, they will be benefitted (sic), and in many instances healed, and you shall be able to prophesy and predict the recovery of those for whom you shall pray.  You shall be filled with wisdom and your words shall fill and thrill the hearts of your hearers.  Your influence and usefulness shall become more pronounced as you grow older and you shall be a great blessing to your brethren and sisters; to those who are in trouble and distress your words shall fill their hearts with joy and hope.

You have extraordinary powers of mind and because of your faithfulness those powers shall continually increase until you shall arrive at the fulness (sic) of glory in the Celestial Kingdom of God.

You shall be blessed under all circumstances during your present life, with the Gift of the Holy Ghost, and the testimony of the gospel that is within you  shall become brighter; and the revelations of the Almighty shall rest upon you in your labors in the Temple of our God, and if you so desire you shall hold communion with the angels in that building.  You shall know that they are near and around you and they will reveal to you of the hidden treasures of knowledge; and the visions of the glories of eternity shall be opened up unto you so clearly that you will exclaim in the fullness of your Joy; "Oh, Lord, it is enough!"

I seal upon you all former blessings and seal you up unto everlasting ife in the Celestial Kingdom of God.  Amen.

 

NEPHI'S ILLNESS.

In the month of December we also received word from home that your brother Nephi was seriously ill, and a week later that Typhoid Fever had set in.  As the days advanced I became more and more anxious.  The news we got was always a week late as it took that time for a letter to reach us, and what may not happen in a week!  My heart was bowed down, and at times I could hardly convince myself that the worst had not come and that he was dead.  It seemed that when I was praying, in mental vision I could see his exact condition and knew it to be very serious.  I felt thankful that my son George Q. was prompt in sending us news of his condition and that he did not deceive me, but still our anxiety was almost unbearable.  We could only wait and hope and pray.

At Christmas we had no heart to enjoy the festivities of the occasion, but on the 30^th of the month having heard from George Q. that the crises was over and that he was gradually improving in health, we accepted an invitation to spend New Year's eve with Aunts Rhoda and Roxey Taylor, where we received a royal welcome, and the society of our dear friends seemed all the more pleasant after our lonely Christmas.

 

DEATH OF UNCLE CHARLES WALKER.

On January 20^th, 1904, three weeks later, I received a letter from you brother George Q. stating that my brother your Uncle Charles, was very ill and even then sinking, and I felt that he was already dead.  Sorrow filled my heart and tears filled my eyes, and my mind reverted to our childhood days and to the trials and privations we had passed through together while our father was out preaching the everlasting Gospel.  After the first outburst of grief was over I tried to control my feelings and to write to Aunt Abbie and dear Aunt Aggie, who would feel his death very keenly.  While I was doing so I received word that he had indeed passed away the evening of the very day that our letter was written.  I also wrote a letter to you Aunt Sarah Walker, you Uncle's other wife, who had a young family to rear alone.

In the afternoon, dear Sister Harper called to sympathize with us.

 

A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF MY BROTHER CHARLES LOWELL WALKER.

Born in Leek, Staffordshire, England, G.B., November 17^th, 1831.  He was the only son of his parents William Gibson Walker and Mary Godwin Walker, his wife.  He, as did his sisters Ann Agatha, Mary Lois, and Dorcas, moved to the great town of Manchester, Lancashire, England in the year 1837.  Here he attended our father's and other schools.  In his earl teens he worked at the trade of blacksmithing for a firm by the name of Chatterly and Sanky.  The former partner afterwards joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and remained steadfast.  This gentleman's eldest daughter, Miss Ann, when grown, came to Utah and became on of my staunchest friends, being about my own age.

During the time that your Uncle Charles worked for these gentlemen, a piece of meat was thrown to a large savage dog which was kept chained up in the shop.  The meat fell into a box of nails and your uncle, fearing that he could not reach it, attempted to place it nearer to him, whereupon the beast flew at him and seizing his arm, thus kindly outstretched to help him, bit it nearly through, the great teeth nearly meeting.  It was dark before he could reach home, and mother happening to be out, he waited in dread to tell her what had happened, for he sympathized with her, knowing how dearly she loved him.  She however, soon returned and with the quiet fortitude that she always possessed, examined the arm, while I began to faint.  As she already had her hands full in attending to the dreadful wound, and no person was nearby to help, she told me to lie between the two doors and this remedy was effectual in my case.

Mother was somewhat of a surgeon and her own family physician, and her treatment must have been successful, also I think, that God looked down in pity on the son of his servant who was himself suffering privation and hunger as he ministered to the meek and poor of the earth.  And I think He was also mindful of the self sacrificing mother of this child who had so willingly given up her natural protector.  There was never any ill effects from this terrible bite.

Your Uncle Charles was, as were his sisters, very large for his age and he grew to be a large handsome man, or at least very fine looking.  I know I was proud to walk beside him.  He was tall, well built, and had dark brown rich looking hair, slightly curled above the coat collar, as was the custom fifty years ago.  His complexion was olive, his skin smooth and fine, his eyebrows well marked and he had good teeth.  As a child mother had taught him to love his books and after he returned from work and had eaten supper, he would take a book and read until bed-time.  He went to work at five in the morning and as he walked along he would mark the time for his marching by playing a merry tune on his clappers, made of two pieces of flat bones, which seemed quite cheerful at such an early hour.

Like most boys, when he wanted to tease he could make things lively!  He had a little cat that he was very fond of, and would buy meat from the cat's meat man to give to her, but when he wanted some fun he would cut the meat in small pieces and tying a piece of string to one would pull it away the moment the animal got it into it mouth.  One day however he played this trick too long, for the poor kitten became so ravenous that when it was finally allowed to swallow the meat, it ate so rapidly that death followed.

Once, I remember, he had a gathered toe.  When the time came to remove the plaster that had been put upon it, we all sat around watching and dreading the painful ordeal.  Suddenly mother said in a startled manner; - "Name of goodness what's that on the top of the cupboard?" and while we were all looking in that direction she nipped off the plaster.

One day he had been teasing you Aunt Aggie and going on at a great rate, and though mother loved him dearly she saw that it was time to quell the matter, and told Aunt Aggie, who was about fourteen years old, that she must master him.  Aunt Aggie was as tall then as she ever was, and your Uncle Charles was big for his age.  Half way up the stairs leading from the kitchen there was a window, and picking him up in her arms, she, tantalized almost beyond endurance, decided to pitch him out of the window.  I do not know that he would have been hurt much had she done so, but upon second thoughts she concluded to give him a good spanking instead, so she slapped him soundly of the place where children generally take such chastisement.  He was completely cured, and the greatest love and appreciation of her noble character ever dwelt in his breast, but he never tried to domineer over his elder sister again.

Your Aunt Aggie tells me that he would tease me until I would jump up and down and grit my teeth, but  not a word would escape my lips.  I suppose this was so that I might keep control of my tongue.

I remember that at one time a friend called to see my mother, who walked part way home with her.  I, being the youngest child wanted to go too, but you Uncle Charles took it upon himself to see that I did not, and held me until he knew that she had gone too far for me to follow her.  Then he let me go, having had enough fun at my expense.

In his early teens the way opened up for him to emigrate to America.  It was in this wise; - A family of the name of Williams, living in Cheshire, and to whom our father had preached the Gospel, were coming to America, and Brother Williams being a blacksmith and willing to help you Uncle Charles learn his trade, it seemed good for him to go in their company.  With them he went to St. Louis, Mo. where we afterwards expected to meet him, but when we arrived there he had accompanied Brother Williams and his family to the State of Kentucky to work.  He remained with this family until he came to the Valley, as Utah was then called.  But while he crossed the plains in the same company as his dear friends the Williams family, he worked his passage as teamster for a man named Peter Burgess, with whom he became acquainted during our Sojourn in St. Louis.  I have heard it said that your Uncle Charles not only drove the team, but cooked for them, prayed for them and asked a blessing on the food he cooked for them!

These people had accumulated considerable means during their stay in St. Louis and I suppose the humble conditions of the Saints in Great Salt Lake Valley were not suited to their taste, for they either went back or went on to California.

Now comes the supreme trial for your Uncle Charles.  A strong attachment had grown up between him and the Williams family.  You may remember in speaking of them in relating scenes of my childhood I spoke of the Spirit of God which was poured out upon us in the little cottage meetings held in their home and that when at one time, when I had quenched the spirit of testimony, Sister Williams had remarked in a voice of kindly chiding: "The angels will go up again and say, 'There was no testimony from Polly today.'" Their reverence for your grandfather at that time almost amounted to worship, and they would, with joy, listen to any council that he might offer.

Time passed and we were all members of the same ward in St. Louis.  After my mother passed away, we looked upon Sister Williams almost in the light of another mother, but after a while began to notice that there was some change in her attitude towards the Gospel.  One day she cam to see me, and as she talked she railed against the President of the ward, whom we looked up to as we would our Bishop today.  I listened to what she had to say, but young girl as I was, I cringed for her spiritual safety.  I think she had been brought up before this brother in some matter, but her attitude was very antagonistic.

I think they brought some of their disaffected spirit with them when they came to the Valley.  There was a famine her at this time, owing to the grasshopper war, and this, with a murmuring spirit, was too much for them to withstand. So they decided to go to California where all apostates sluffed off to, in those days.  I was called "Going to Hell."

They tried hard to persuade your Uncle Charles to go with them, and his sense of gratitude for their kindness to him, and his attachment to them as a family, added to the lack of work and scarcity of food, pulled hard upon him.  But he let right rule, and overcame.

I had watched our friend Sister Williams from the time that she began to find fault, and saw that she was gradually losing the faith.  I heard that Brother George Williams once one of our dearest friends, died cursing Apostle Erastus Snow, then president of the St. Louis conference.

And so it is to find fault with those who are in authority over us, it means spiritual death if not repented of and discontinued.  I have watched many such people and the result has always been the same.

Your Uncle Charles at that time had neither father, mother or brother to guide or council him, but his sister your Aunt Aggie was here and she was a safe friend.  It seems to me that he stayed with her part of the time, her husband Apostle Pareley Pratt being always the same generous, hospitable person in famine or abundance, having had much of the reverses of life himself.

Afterwards, you uncle obtained employment at a blacksmith's shop conducted by a brother Jackson, and boarded with your grandfather and the lady whom he had married for you will remember that my dear mother died while we were in St. Louis.

Your Uncle Charles was about thirty years old before he married, his wife being Miss Abigail Middlemast, a native of Nova Scotia, but who had been reared in Utah, I think.  She was neat an thrifty and very comely.  Both were members of the 6^th Ward of Salt Lake City and lived in the ward a number of years.  They had a nice log house of one room, of good height, and unlike most log houses had large windows.  One corner of the room served as a wardrobe for you Aunt Abbie's clothing which your Uncle termed her "Dry Goods."

One afternoon, soon after their marriage, you cousin Aggie and I went to call upon our new Sister-in-law, but she happened to be out, but your Uncle Charles did all the honors of the house as quietly and as quickly as most experienced house-wives would have done, setting a nice hot meal before us.  We were able however to test his wife's ability as a cook by the excellent peach preserve we had for desert, which went off like hot cakes.  After a while your Aunt Abbie came home, and I remember that she and your Cousin Aggie waltzed around the room which was parlor, sitting room, bed-room, kitchen, and for the time being ball-room all in one.  Your Uncle too was an excellent dancer.  The fall that we moved up from the south he came to invite me to go to a Ball with him, but as I was not going out much at that time, I was obliged to decline, and so I think I never had the pleasure of dancing with my only brother.  Many years afterwards when they had a family of small children, and all were sick with whooping cough, he said that he used to waltz to one little patient after another at night, with the bottle of cough cordial in his hand.

And Sister Sarah Maria Cannon, mother of your brother George M. Cannon also spoke of his ability as a nurse, and told me many years ago, that she owed him a debt of gratitude for doctoring her foot when a cow kicked it.

At the time that his little children had whopping cough his wife was also seriously ill with inflammatory rheumatism and not help being obtainable, he took the part of housekeeper as well as nurse.  Upon one occasion while washing the dishes, he could not find the dish cloth, when lo, and behold, he discovered it in his coat pocket, where he had mechanically put it. 

His fellow actors tell me that he took his part well upon the stage also.  They were Apostle A.W. Ivine, and Bishop J.C. Bently, and others.  After he had been married a little while, he had father lay the foundation for two adobe rooms.  He also had very fine currant bushes growing in his garden which bore fruit almost as large as marbles, these being our principle fruit in those days.

But these prosperous circumstances were doomed to be disturbed.  A call was made for people to settle Southern Utah, of Dixie, as it was called, and he was among those called to that very hard and trying mission.

At a meeting held with the object of receiving a report from those who had been appointed to go, your Uncle Charles, in answer to the roll-call, said; - "All wheat," which meant all right, or an assent.  Two men sitting near him ridiculed him for being willing to go.  Those men were well to do and did not care to break up their well appointed homes.

Your Uncle tried very hard to sell his worldly possessions in order to obtain an outfit, and one night told the Lord that if He wanted him to go on the Dixie mission, He must send someone to buy his place.  The next morning, before he was up, a knock was heard upon the door.  People arose about five o'clock in those days, so it must have been at an early hour, for he was not up.  When he opened the door, he found his visitor to be Brother Jonathan Pugmire who had come to buy his house!

So he and his young wife went down to the hard, hard, hard, Dixie mission and stood to the rack, hay or no hay.  He sent me word once that some of his fellow missionaries were eating bread made from broom corn seed and that the family of Apostle Erastus Snow was among that number, and thanked God that he had not been without a little flour, thus far.

In one of his early letters, he wrote the following; - "Forgive me for calling it a country.  When they go through making the world, they gathered together the flint, black-rock, and lava, and made Dixie.  When the cows come home they lie on their backs and throw their feet up in the air to cool them after walking in the hot sand.  When you open the over door to see how the bread is doing and the hot air puffs out upon your face, that is how the wind blows here."

He wrote me again; - "It rained her the other day, and my house being like a willow basket, everything was wet, even our bed, my wife and our newly born baby, but thanks be to God and to the Holy Priesthood, my wife was up when the baby was only five days old, and able to do all her chores, except milking.  This baby was their first-born, which is your Cousin Zaidee.  When she was a toddler, you Aunt Abbie came up for conference.  She and one of her neighbors, a Sister Ida gave the following dialogue as they were in their Dixie home; - "Well, what are you going to have for dinner?"  "Bread and molasses." "And what for supper?"  "Molasses and bread.", or 'the everfaithful', as they called it, and were thankful even that that.

Your Uncle Charles was rewarded for his sacrifice, privation and toil, by having the Spirit of God for his guide while the two men who ridiculed him for his cheerful response to so trying a mission, the younger man drowned and the older apostatized.

Uncle Charles was priveliged (sic) to help in the erection of the House of the Lord, compose anthems for its dedication and was called to guard its sacred walls both within and without as long as he lived.  He spent his hard earned means for names of his ancestors as far back as the 11^th Century and found that we are descended from Harold the Saxon.  He also obtained the coat of arms of the Godwin family, which is three leopard heads in scarlet and gold.

I did not see very much of him on account of his living so far south, in fact, in fifty six or fifty eight years  I only say him five times, but he corresponded with me from time to time.  Here is a copy of one of his letters, written in 1869.

                                                                                                St. George, Feb. 21, 1869

My own dear Sister Poll: -

It is my desire in this epistle to let you know that I am at present time alive and well and sincerely hope this will find you the same.  It seemed an awful long time since you wrote a line to me and the same way with Agatha.  But "fortune will sometimes smile on the lame and the lazy," and it smiled on me the other day, for while I was engaged in playing with the Brass Band at Brother Snow's who should come in by John Parry and the fat good-natured John McFarlain, who is now a permanent resident of St. George.  John Parry told me that Elias is coming home next year if all went well.  I hope he will.  I should like to see his genial countenance again.

Don't be downcast my dear girl; - "There's better days acoming," as our blessed mother used to sing to us when we were children.  Don't you remember her sweet voice and how select and chaste she was in all her melodies?  I sometimes think of those days and the things we passed through and tears will moisten my eyes.

Last year I received a few letters from father.  He still believes he is on the right track, but yet confesses he is not happy.  He urges me to think for myself; says the Church was right in the beginning but now it has gone astray and the heads of the Church are now seeking after money.  He sent me his photograph and that of Mrs. Walker.  She looks pretty well but he looks very old and careworn, with long white beard hanging on his breast.

Our winter has been very mild and we have been treated to but one hailstorm of about ten minutes duration.  The currant buses are out in leaf and the peach blossoms are beginning to open out.

Say, what is the matter with Agatha, she doesn't my letters.  I have had no word from her since last October.  How is she getting along and how are you and those blessed children?  Miss Zaidee often talks about her cousin Effie and the little shears.   Well, God bless 'em and tell them Uncle Charles loves them; kiss them and tell them to be good to their Ma.

Now, my dear, be kind enough to write to me soon and tell me all about yourself and Agatha.

Goodbye and God Bless you my dear Poll, is the worst wish of your friend and brother in the Covenant of Peace.

Charles L. Walker.

 

Here is another letter from my brother dated July 8, 1890

                                                                                                St. George, Utah

My Dear Sister: -

Yours from Manti June 1^st is before me.

It affords me much pleasure that at last, after so many trials you had the great privilege of going into one of the Temples of the Most High, and I am sure you enjoyed it, and had circumstances permitted you would have enjoyed yourself much more in going there oftener, for every time a person goes there they learn more, and the Spirit reveals something to them that they thought not of before. No, I did not do any work from Mrs. Clews nor for her daughters, not knowing of their death.  Neither have I don't any work for Mrs. Burton you mention, having no dates or clews, but I do remember hearing Bert's father say he had some relatives by the name of Burton.

I recollect an Irish lady, Mrs. Hollis, who used to be kind to Dorcas in sending her little dainties once in a while and if I were sure she was dead I would set her feet on the path of progress.  And then there was old Thorley, the policeman who used, when reading from St. John say: - "And I saw the Hearth like a soy of glass, klar as kristicle, like pewer wahttur."  I should like to be baptized for him, for I do believe he was sincere in his belief and spiritual readings.  I don't think, if I knew his genealogy, I should neglect even old fat Milk Tommy, nor old man Clegg, the father of that notorious liar Ann Clegg, with her camel feathers, etc. etc.

I am glad you saw and had a good time with some of my acquaintances, and hope at some future time you may have the blessed privelege of not only going through a temple, but in ministering in one.  I think the sanctity of these holy throngs would be congenial to your nature.

Well, I must close I see, hoping that this will find you enjoying the serenity of Heaven, is the kindly wish of your big brother,

Charles.

The last time I saw your uncle charles was in 1881.  He died January 11^th 1904.  The Dixie "Advocate" has the following to say of him.

 

OBITUARY NOTICE

CHARLES L. WALKER.

In the above features will be recognized the lineaments of Charles L. Walker, well known to almost every resident of Southern Utah who departed this life on the 11^th inst.  As "Poet Laureate," temple guard and temple worker, he became intimately acquainted with a number of people of the southern part of the state.

Charles Lowell Walker was born November 17^th, 1832 at Leek, Staffordshire, England.  His parents were William Gibson Walker, and Mary Godwin Walker.  When the subject of our sketch was six or seven years old his parents moved to Manchester where they first heard the Gospel of the Latter Day Saints preached and embraced the same.  He was baptized into the Church by his father, on the 22^nd day of April, 1845.

He left England February, 1849 in the ship "Henry" and with about 209 other Saints was landed near New Orleans some time in April and then worked his passage to St. Louis on the "Grande York."  During the summer colera (sic) broke out and many of the Saints died.  He then moved into Kentucky to get an outfit together to come to the valley with the Saints.  He made four trips back and forth from St. Louis, during which time his parents arrived from England.  The company he was working for failed and he went back to St. Louis, after which he worked on a railroad in Illinois.  This company also failed and he then found employment in St. Louis for a number of years.  Here he was set apart as councellor to Bishop Seal.

He crossed the plains as teamster for a man who was transporting a threshing machine and a quantity of merchandise to Utah, arriving in Salt Lark City early in September.  Here he went to work for Apostle Parley P. Pratt, and boarded with his sister Agatha, she being one of Apostle Pratt's wives.  When famine came upon the people the family was no longer able to provide him food, and from this time until 1857, he says in his autobiography, "I will not attempt to describe what I passed through.  Hardship, hunger and starvation; digging roots to subsist upon, living on greens, cornmeal, siftings, etc. and not enough of that."

In the spring of 1857 he got steady employment and things wore a brighter aspect.  One the first of June he was ordained a Seventy and placed in the 14^th quorum.  Soon after he joined the Nauvoo Legion and enlisted in Hyrum B. Clawson's company.  This being a cavalry company he spent most of his time scouting on Ham's Fork, Bridger and Cache Cave, until, meeting with an accident he was relieved from duty.

In the spring of 1858, with thousands of others, he left his home and moved south.  Being detailed on guard duty, after moving his father and his father's family to Provo, he went to Salt Lake and witnessed the entrance of Johnson's Army into Salt Lake with all their munitions of war, from the top of the Council House.  During the summer he moved back to the city and for several months acted as ward policeman.  From 1859 to 1861 he was kept busy building and with his ecclesiastical duties, he being a blacksmith and stone cutter by trade.

September 28, 1861, he was married to Abigale Middlemast , of Tapes Harbor, Halifax.  In 1862 he was called to Dixie and located in St. George by council of Apostle Pratt, and her he resided until the time of his death.

During his residence here he has served as policeman, body guard to President Brigham Young, Second Councelor to Bishp D. Milne, school trustee a number of times, preformed an Indian mission to protect the Pieds from the Navajos in Kanab County, and since 1872 has been almost a constant worker in the St. George Temple, for the past twenty years has served as night guard, refusing to abandon his post of duty until within three or four days of his dissolution.  He was a laborer also on the temple from the commencement of the foundation to the setting of the capstone.  Also worked for some time on the Manti Temple.  In 1877 he was married to Sarah Smith.  Both of his wives survive him.

He was a faithful member of his church, and was endowed with more than ordinary intelligence.  His poetic productions have a fame extending beyond the range of his acquaintances, and he was ever willing to respond with suitable lines to commemorate any important occasion.  He was a good citizen and will be greatly missed.

 

IN MEMORIUM

(Lines in memory of Charles L. Walker, Dixie's poet)

 

Guard the Temple! Guard it well!

As faithful as the one who fell

In peaceful slumber he has fled

To mingle with the faithful dead.

Our loss is his eternal gain,

For though not numbered with the slain

He guarded true; he guarded well,

And gave the watchword, "All is well!"

A soldier true, though he sought not fame,

As guard and poet has earned a name

That may linger long on the pages of time, -

Duty and poetry sublime combined.

His soul soaring high in the conflict on earth

Has returned to the home that first gave it birth.

He has ceased from his labors to enjoy his reward,

"Enter into thy rest," thus saith the Lord.

Sarah J. Atkin.

St. George.

 

I am fortunate to have in my possession one of the poems written by your Uncle Charles, which is as follows; -

 

TEMPLE SONG.

(Tune: - "Hold the Fort")

 

Lo', a temple, long expected, in St. George shall stand;

By God's faithful saints erected, her in Dixie land.

Chorus: -

Hallelujah, hallelujah, let Hosannah ring;

Heaven shall echo back our praises.  Christ shall reign as king.

Noble tasks we hail with pleasure, coming from our head,

Brings salvation, life eternal, for our kindred dead.

Chorus:-

Holy and Eternal Father, give us strength we pray,

To Thy name to build this temple, in the latter day.

Chorus: -

Oh! How anxious friends are waiting, watching every move

Made for us for their redemption, with a holy love.

Chorus: -

Long they've hped through weary ages, for the present time.

For the everlasting Gospel, with its truth sublime.

Chorus: -

Lo! The prison doors are open, millions hail the day,

Praying, hoping for baptism, in the appointed way.

Chorus: -

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah, let the structure rise,

Rear aloft these noble towers, ponting to the skies.

Chorus: -

Hell may rage an Satan tremble, still that house we'll rear

Heaven will aid us, angles guard us, we've no need to fear.

Chorus:

 

C. L. Walker

 

I must now go back a little to January 10, 1904 and continue the account of the severe illness of my son Nephi.  Upon the above date I received word that he was so far convalescent as to be able to be up.  He had been confined to the ouse for sixty days and to his bed thirty., and now was too weak to walk or lift the smallest of his little nieces upon his knee.  He came out of his room with a full grown beard, of which I received a very interesting photograph, which I still have in my possession.

Your brother Nephi had placed himself in the care of your Aunt Hattie Morris Pickett, who certainly proved herself a kind and careful nurse.

During his confinement many friends called to see him, many sent or brought beautiful flowers, but all who called we(re) not, on account of his serious condition, permitted to see him.

Many of the Church Authorities called in the kindest manner, among them Apostle John W. Taylor, who blessed him and promised him restoration to perfect health.  On January 9^th I received the following letter from that great Apostle; -

 

                                                                                Office of the First Presidency

                                                                                                of the

                                                                Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

 

P.O. Box B.  Salt Lake City, Utah.       Dec. 31, 1903.

Dear Sister Morris: -

I know you feel anxious about your dear son Nephi, who has been such a sufferer, and I just send a few lines, knowing it will be a satisfaction to you to know just how he is: He seems to me to have taken a turn for the better.  And while he is still in bed, he is doing as well as possible under the circumstances.  Your dear boy had been very ill, but through  the blessing of the Lord and the kind attention of his Aunt Hattie it looks like he had passed the danger point.  He eats well but his stomach is weak and food seems to distress him a little, but he seems wise and careful in his eating.  And all is doing first rate.  I wrote you a few lines yesterday to let you know he is better, in a letter to Lyle, and send you these few lines today to tell you that Nephi will enter upon the New Year a little stronger than yesterday.  When I looked upon his white face, so intelligent, so patient, as he lay upon his bed, I thought of you; I sympathized with both you and him strongly.  Of course I blessed him, and felt blesssed of our Heavenly Father in so doing.  Sister Morris, the Lord bless you and comfort your heart with the peaceful influence of His Holy Spirit, which is the true and only comfort, and preserve you  and yours from the hand of the destroyer.  I will call and see your beloved son as often as I can.  Kind remembrances to all and dear friends.

Your brother,

John Taylor

 

On the 20^th of the month I received a letter of twelve pages in length from my dear son Nephi, the first I had received from him since his illness, and it made my heart glad all day.

Soon after this, that Salt Lake Stake was divided into four stakes, in which were given the following names; - Liberty, Pioneer, Salt Lake, and Ensign.

 

[Page 408]

NEPHI CALLED TO PRESIDE OVER THE SALT LAKE STAKE

Upon a certain day shortly after his recovery from the severe illness your brother Nephi was summoned to the office of the First Presidency and in the presence of these gentlemen, and I think also of some of the brethren of the Apostle Quorum, was asked his opinion as to a suitable person for president of the Salt Lake Stake.  Different brethren were mentioned and he was asked his opinion of them.  After expressing it he was again asked to name one whom he thought would fill the position.  He replied, "Angus M. Cannon is good enough for me."  (Bro. Angus M. Cannon had presided over the entire Salt Lake Stake for a number of years.)  Your brother was then told that he had been chosen to preside over the new Salt Lake Stake and was asked to choose his councilors.  He consented to accept the position on condition that he might have two strong men who were already bishops.  With the help of these strong and good men he would try to fill the responsible position.  He was asked to name the two men he so much desired and gave the following names: - Edward T Ashton, bishop of the 24^th Ward, and George R. Emery, bishop of the 16^th ward.  He was assured he should have them.

Congratulations followed, and even we, in our far off home were the recipiants (sic) of some of them.  Aunt Lillian H. Cannon, who always held your brother Nephi in high esteem, called to see him, bringing with her a copy of the Deseret News, containing his portrait and those of his two chosen councilors.  I can see now, her beautiful face beaming with joy and enthusiastic interest as she called our attention to the object of her errand.

Spring was now approaching and I was asked to give patriotic sentiments at the forthcoming Cinco de Mayo, or Fifth of May festival.  I felt a deep interest in those downtrodden natives of this grand country and having studied somewhat of their history and visited their Capital, and my dear Spanish teacher being of that nationality, I felt an enthusiastic desire to do my part well, and was very anxious to find a grand poem on the subject and commit it to memory.

But the meagerest (sic) history only of this great event was obtainable, but this did not quench my earnest desire to pay a loving tribute to this much abused and wandering branch of the House of Israel, so I began to write the feelings of my heart, as follows: -

 

A TRIBUTE TO OLD MEXICO

 

Fair Mexico, a tribute would I pay

On this, thy glorious Freedom's day,

Where native warriors, led by native braves

Now burst the shackles that would make them slaves.

We, too, rejoice in this much favored land

Where found we shelter, and a kindly hand.

God bless thy President, and Cabinet, and all

Who, through wise tolerance, their country save them thrall.

Long live thy government, beneath whose literal folds,

The stranger and the pilgrim its generous law upholds.

Where with God's blessing on man's daily care and toil

The golden grain springs forth from thy protective soil.

And fruit and flowers, and flocks and kine

With milk and honey, and the lucious vine,

Thy golden sun makes light our path each day,

Thy silvery moon beams forth its lustrous ray.

Thy sweet tones warblers make glad thy lofty trees,

The careworn brow is fanned by thy delightful breeze

Thy flowers are gorgeous, thy roses rare,

Thy maidens beautiful, thy matrons fair.

Long live our noble Chieftan and the country that we love,

Pray we for thy safety, to the Kings and Kings above.

 

On the 6^th of April, 1904 a heavy fall of rain commenced and continued until the settlement was almost flooded.  The back part of the house where we were living was lower than the canal east of it, and as the water began to pour down from the mountains near us, filling the canal to overflowing, we felt considerably alarmed.  We felt exceedingly helpless and lonely, just three women, one girl and two babies, but we worked with a will, and were able to keep the water from passing the middle of the kitchen floor.  When the storm was over the streets presented the appearance of a washout, and made us feel dismal, but still we were thankful that we had been preserved by a kind Providence.

Here was a time when we had a superabundance of water but owing to the sandy soil it was not long afterwards that we suffered from a long drought.  One day my little Kate, or Mamma, as we called her, had collected about a quart of water to give Baby a sponge bath, when the vessel containing it was accidently (sic) tipped over and her disappointment was so keen that she felt like weeping.

The following pleasant little experience occurred during this summer.  Our veteran member of the Theological Class in Sunday School, Bro. John Charington, in bearing a very humble testimony, expressed a desire to go where he would meet the Presidents of the Church from the Prophet Joseph down to our beloved President Prophet Joseph F. Smith, bearing testimony to their worth.  I listened intently until he had finished his testimony, then I arose and by the promptings of the Spirit of God said these few words: - "Bro. Charington, you will go where you will meet the Prophets of God that you so much desire to see, you shall have power to overcome and endure to the end."  By this time the tears were welling up to my eyes, as they had to his while bearing his testimony.  I had very few words to say, my heart was full.  At the close of the meeting Apostle Teasdale said, in a very calm low tone; - "We have had a delightful meeting, not only the Spirit of testimony but also the spirit of prophecy from Sister Morris, who shall have it again."  The sweet spirit that accompanied his words is with me now, as I record the blessed occasion with tears of joy and humility, as when it occurred.  At the afternoon meeting Bro. Charington again bore a valiant testimony, and again it was made known to me that our Heavenly Father was pleased with the same.

 

DEATH OF APOSTLE AND MRS HELEN WINTER WOODRUFF.

In June of this year, Apostle Abram Owen Woodruff and his wife Helen Winters Woodruff, who were traveling in Mexico, were attacked with the dreadful desease (sic) Smallpox, in its worst form, and as you know both succumbed to the awful malady.  It was a time of great sorrow in our little community and afterwards to the whole church.  All felt in their hearts to bless Bro. Alonzo Taylor of the Mexican mission, who nursed them with such tender care, risking his life in so doing.

At the Memorial Services, at the request of Apostle Teasdale, I, with some other sisters, was invited to say a few words.  In my brief remarks I commented particularly upon the extremely cheerful disposition of Sister Woodruff.

About this time, our dear friend Mrs. Mary B. Eyring lost her son Henry, and as I contemplated his departure from this life, this pleasing thought pervaded my soul; that although on this earth he had been blind and dependent, he was now in a position to preach the gospel to the kindred of those with whom he had been surrounded for so many years, and that his intimate knowledge of the Spanish language would render him doublly useful as a missionary of truth to those spirits in prison. 

I wept bitterly as I saw his aged mother take a last fond look at her departed son and heard her say; "My work is ended now."  He was forty years old and for nine years previous to his death had been blind.  He was her first born child and had always been in delicate health. 

At the funeral services I was invited to assist in the choir.  It so happened that they sang a favorite hymn that I think I had heard but once and that many, many years ago.  The words and music are to me equally beautiful and they inspired me to give expressin to the deep sympathy of my heart in the following words; -

 

A TRIBUTE OF SYMPATHY TO Mrs. Mary B. Eyring.

 

How beautiful a Mother's love

How eloquent her grief,

My tears are streaming with the flood

That brings my heart relief.

None but a Mother's heart may know

The wealth of her undying love;

'Tis Heaven's gift, that precious glow

That crowns our motherhood.

We prize the precious mother love

We've watched thy tender care,

Angels look down and they approve

And thy deep sorrow share.

"My work is ended now," she said

While gazing on her treasured boy.

His breath has stopped, his spirit fled,

And with it went her joy.

A lustrous crown awaits thy brow

Brilliants carved so rare,

A mansion bright, of pure delight,

And thou shall enter there.

A son, a husband, thee shalt meet

With all that happy glorious throng.

In purest love each other greet,

And join the conqueror's song.

Sympathetically inscribed by Mary L. Morris, July 28^th, 1904.  Colonia Juarez, Mexico.

 

It is pleasant to reflect upon the fact that you have tried to be a good mother.  It is also pleasant to find your children appreciative.  In a letter from my son George Q. dated August 19t^h 1904 the following occurs; - "God bless you strong, true mothers.  God pity the weak ones.  Dear Mother, I thank you for what you have done for me.  Your care and prayerful labors over your children has been wonderful.  I am proud to be your son.  I am proud that all your children, every one, are true to your principles.  All bless you."

It is at the insistence of your sister Kate that I insert the above.  I thank you my dear son and may God bless you and all my dear children that you may ever be faithful and endure to the end. 

The following extract from another of your brother George Q's letters is upon the same topic; - It is dated October 2, 1903.

"Effie and I were talking about you the other evening and wishing you could be with us.  She was comparing you with some of the sisters of a ward where Sister Elizabeth Stevenson was speaking, and of course if was to their disadvantage.  She said how some of the sisters rather yielded to the idea that children could not be controlled nowadays, and how it brought to her mind a picture of you standing up to say that they could be controlled and taught to know their place.  Effie said in Sister Stevenson's address, she heard over again the life's teachings she had heard from you about thoroughness in every work or task undertaken.  I told her that you and Sister Stevenson were kindred spirits and dear friends.  You are greatly missed by everybody.  You are the ideal of so many good people whom you have blessed with you council; and to whom you have ministered when they were in need.

Dear Mother, I appreciate all the time, your example and teachings, and begin to understand just a little, how I owe everything to you and how we all do.  I am proud of you family.  Through children and children's children the ranks are solid.  All have character, are intelligent, high-minded and wise, and above all, have the spirit of truth in their hearts.  All have your character's imprints.  I am proud of such a family, and am the least worthy of them all.

While on my mission, George M. wrote me, and much of his letter was in praise of you.  He said he had never met a woman of stronger character or of higher principles.  Neither have I.  You know, mother, I told you long ago that you should have the softest and highest seat, and in my mind and heart the seat you deserve is growing higher and softer all the time.  Your experience and service where you are adds another degree to your full and high life. 

It is a long time since I wrote you in this personal strain, but I am doing it tonight because I want you to know the thoughts and feelings constantly in my mind and I hold you highest, and wisest and best of women, the standard by which I estimate others and by which to guide my actions."

This year also I had to hold a class of needlework during the holidays.  One afternoon, as we were seated in the band-stand, the children told me in an excited manner that a snake was coming up the wall.  I went down and cooly took in the situation.  The swiftness with which the creature of beautiful scales zigzagged up the short wall of the bandstand was startling.  There was no help at hand.  I took my parasol and turned the head of the snake in the direction of the place from whence it had come.  By this time there was a photographer at hand to take a snap-shot of him.  As the distance lengthened between us, some boys began to throw stones at it, but I forbad them, remembering the words of the Prophet Joseph upon a similar occasion, in Zion's Camp, when he said that the lamb and the lion would never lie down together while men make war upon the animal creation.  Also I recalled the words of Apostle Parley P. Prattt, as he arose from his bed on the ground and a rattlesnake ran from the place where his head had rested all night.  Some of the brethren wanted to kill it, but he said; - "He and I have had a comfortable night together, I will not harm him."  I can see the genial smile upon his benign countenance as he would say these words.

It gave me a great deal of pleasure to have the privilege of teaching the art of plain sewing to the children of the people, and also to the children of the natives with whom we were surrounded.  Little Camilla Eyring, then only nine years old, was able to mend the family stockings, had made good buttonholes and also some underwear. I received afterwards a nice little linen doily worked in blue silk for-get-me-nots from little Hazel Redd.  This little token of gratitude caused tears of emotion to fill my eyes and has made a sweet spot in my heart for life.  I felt that my labors had not been in vain.

During most of the time I was in Mexico my health was anything but good, and in the fall of this year my strength seemed almost at the point of failing me altogether.  AIA had no appetite and existed upon water gruel.  I realized that if I should give up and go to bed, I should not be likely to get up again very soon, so concluded to battle on if it was with trembling steps and slow pace.  Thinking that a change might help me, Sister Harper, who had noticed my failing health, invited us to come to her hotel for a week's visit.  She prepared an elegant dinner for us when we arrived, and treated us with the greatest kindness all the time.  It was very nice to be trusted with so much consideration, being strangers in a strange land. 

At the end of November Apostles Charles Penrose and John Henry Smith visited our colony. As I took my seat in the meeting house the choir started to sing the anthem; - "Jerusalem, My Glorious Home."  The music of this grand anthem and sight of Bro. Penrose, who, in his capacity of editor of the Deseret News, was daily in the same building in which my sons Nephi and George Q. were then living (for they rented rooms in the Deseret News building at this time) filled my heart with emotion and my eyes were tears.  I felt glad to think that they and this grand Apostle were working with one common object in view; that of the advancement of our Heavenly Father's Kingdom, for Nephi was presiding over the Salt Lake Stake and George Q. was Stake President of the Y.M.M.I.A.  But oh, how my heart yearned for my loved ones at home.  It seemed for a time as if I could not be reconciled to this long separation, and it was hard to keep back the tears.  Apostle John Henry Smith, as he passed out of the hall, a little before the close of the meeting, silently grasped my hand.  After meeting, Bro. Penrose was anxious to meet us, and said that my sons were doing a good work and again my heart yearned to see my children.

The following day I attended a Relief Society meeting at which a good spirit prevailed.  The Spirit of God rested upon me and I felt a desire to say that the principle of Celestial Marriage would never be blotted out.  At this time Apostle Teasdale was upon his feet and bore the same testimony that was in my heart, but of course I could not interrupt him to say so.  The same spirit rested upon us both at the same moment.  Afterwards I expressed myself, but felt that I was not responsible for what I said.  It was the Spirit of God that bore witness of it.

The following day as I was about to go to my Spanish Class, I noticed that "Mamma" was not looking very well.  She did not complain, but I felt that we must be prepared for an event that was not expected until some time later.  I administered to her, hoping that the symptoms as they then appeared might pass away.  Seeing that there was no change, I asked our nearest neighbor who we could get to help us, but she only knew of one sister who had studied a little but had not had any practice.  A man was dispatched for experienced help and two elders came and administered to our dear one in the kindest manner.  Still her suffering increased.  About this time Sister Harris came running across the lot and said; - "There is a woman who can help you."  As she approached the gate I went out and asked her to come in and help us.  About 10:40 a little daughter was born. 

While the foregoing was transpiring little Catherine was sobbing in the kitchen.  She seemed to understand that there was something the matter with her beloved mother, and refused to eat.  We had plenty of help now, but I was kept busy getting things as they were needed, and each time that I left little Catherine alone, her tears broke out afresh.

Then a gentleman friend, who was visiting in the colony, called, and noticing the poor little child's distress, remained to comfort her.  As the birth of the little daughter had been premature and life was very uncertain, I called him into the sick room to bless the baby and give it a name.  He demurred, but I told him it was the custom to name babies immediately after birth under these conditions, if they breathed at tall, so he consented.  The mother was now asked what she would name her little one, and she chose the name of Mary.

Grief was now added to bodily suffering, for little Mary, so recently come to our care, was snatched away.

A few minutes later another little daughter was born and our friend in need was summoned a second time.  The poor mother was asked for a name for her second little one.  She spoke the name of Effie, and he who was in authority blessed the babe and gave her that name.

Sister Black, who had so recently assisted to bring Mary and her twin sister into the world now prepared the former for her quiet resting place.  By this time our friend Sister McMurrin, who had previously been engaged as nurse came to our aid, and Sister Black left, after making little Effie and her mother as comfortable as she could.

Aunt Ellen, who had as soon as possible after receiving word come over to see us, fell on my neck weeping bitterly.  Aunt Ellen was quickly followed by Aunt Margaret, who, to express her love and sympathy for poor Mamma, now went over to Sister Harris's to make baby robes for little Mary.

Bro. D.H. Harris, who had been called earlier in the day, now came to see what he could do to help us.  Later, our friend who had blessed the babies and our Bishop came with hearts full of love and sympathy for the grief stricken and bereaved.  Upon being asked to do so they blessed our little one who remained with us.  She was so frail that I had to put my ear to her little mouth to listen if she breathed.

Sister McMurrin said that she was cold, and while she went back for some of her things, I kept my warm hand upon the little body and held her nearer to the fire.  We had not enough batting to envelope her, but we wrapped her in a soft shawl and laid her upon a pillow placed in a rocker near a good fire.

During the day Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice called; also Bo. Duffin, their hearts full of love and sympathy for poor Mamma. (Uncle Frank was the Elder who had blessed the babies.)   Turning to the bed, Bro. Duffin said; - "Give me the oil, and let us lay hands on that girl." and being mouth he gave Mamma a beautiful blessing.  Bro. Walker, also, in giving her a blessing promised that she should have a long life.

The Bishop then called me aside to make arrangements for the funeral and Aunt Ellen and Aunt Margaret brought the little burial suit, exquisitely made, and no one could have asked for anything more dainty.  Although I had so much to attend to I managed to set a comfortable repast for these ladies after their long afternoon's work in our behalf.  Bless them!

Sister Mack and I sat up all night, by turns, as I insisted that she should take some rest.  Every few minutes I would listen to hear if the little baby were breathing.  I also took notes of particulars as they occurred to send to my son-in-law.  I could not rest long however, as I was expecting the brethren to call in reference to the funeral.  In good time, dear Aunt Margaret came for the purpose of doing our washing, bringing her little son with her to help.  Uncle Frank also came to render what assistance he could.  Aunt Ellen came and did Saturday's work and cooked dinner for us.  These dear ladies who had wrought so exquisitely the previous day upon little Mary's suit were just as willing to come today and help with the heavier work.  They were friends indeed.  May God bless them always, I say.

About noon, Uncle Frank brought the little casket and Aunt Margaret stopped her washing and Aunt Ellen her cooking and they put little Mary so cosily into it that her beautiful little form so exquisitely attired made a lovely picture to look upon.

Apostle Taylor's buggy was kindly tendered for our use.  Aunt Ellen, seated upon Aunt Margaret's lap, took the reins.  I held the little casket upon my lap.  The day was fine and the new cemetery looked dry and comfortable, if any place can seem comfortable where we lay loved ones to rest in Mother Earth.  A native had dug the little grave.  Our esteemed Bishop, although far from well, had come with Uncle Frank to meet us there and to officiate in the last sad rites over our precious one.

After our return from the cemetery I had a chance to take a little rest, but Sister Mac and I took turns and sat up all night.  In the morning the baby was still no better.  The following day we had several visitors and the greatest sympathy was expressed by all.

About midnight both Sister McMurrin and I noticed as decided change in the baby, and about an hour later the sufferings of little Effie were over and her spirit had followed that of her sister into a brighter realm where sorrow and death do not enter.  I did not wound the sad little mother by telling her what had happened, but the reflex of my face told the tale.  We now laid out the treasured remains and I wrote another letter to my son-in-law telling him the sad news, and retired about 4 A.M.

Little Clyde Peart was an early caller this sad and cold morning, so by him we sent word to Aunts Ellen and Margaret, and also the Bishop, of what had happened.  In good season the dear friends came to our assistance again, making another exquisite suit for little Effie, such as they had made for her twin sister.

Soon came Uncle Frank, stating that he and our Bishop would attend to matters required for the interment as before.

Again I prepared a repast for the kind ladies who were so busily engaged in our behalf, and as they had done for little Mary, these good sisters robed the tiny form in the beautiful clothing they had made and lay her in her little bed as cosy as loving hands could place her.

As the ladies were attending to this last kind office we hastily prepared for burial, each bearing the same part as we had done before.  The weather this time was raw and cold and really dangerous to the health of our Bishop, but he risked coming out in order to express his sympathy and to see that everything was properly attended to.

We reached home as the evening shadows were falling and as I sat on a chair near the fire I felt as if the world had lost a great deal of its charm for me, although I had no complaint to make.  Sister Mac told me that while we were away, little Catherine, although but two years old, had nestled up to her mother, and sobbed as bitterly as did her heart stricken mamma.  I felt that I had neither heart nor strength for anything but to sit still.  I knew that your sister was in good hands with Sister McMurrin in constant attendance upon her, and had it not been that little Catherine needed her mother's care, to rest quietly in bed would have been the greatest boon to me.

At last, over anxiety, want of rest perhaps coupled with too much study, before your sister was really well, I began to giveout.  Along with general debility came a sore throat.  In answer to prayer and anointing with holy oil I was greatly relieved.  But one evening I dreaded to go to bed with my throat in such a condition.  Our oil was exhausted and we had no one to send out in the darkness of night to get more, or to send for the Elders.  My Heavenly Father had healed me many times under my own administration.  I thought I would try Him again. 

From the bottle I drained three drops of oil, hardly enough to reach my throat.  What was I to do with the outward glands?  With the oily moisture still clinging to the spoon I rubbed the outward stiffness of my neck; my prayer was answered.  I was heeled!

In January we visited the two little graves and arranged to have two little stones set up over the place where our little treasures were laid.  It was strange how long the death-like influence remained with us, it seemed so hard to become reconciled to our disappointment.  I kept a lamp burning for company and was glad that your sister had little Catherine.

I was so anxious to continue my Spanish lessons that I continued to go until one day I as obliged to leave before the class was dismissed.  I did not want the class to know how ill I felt nor did I wish to fall while walking home so prayed earnestly for strength to reach there.  Mamma read to me after retiring so as to help me to repose.  For a while I had to keep my bed and so could not continue my preparation for the class examination, as I had looked forward to.  Several dear friends called to see me.  There was a sister who was anxious that I should wash and anoint her, so Sister Bently took me in a buggy and I was wonderfully sustained while administering the holy ordinances and suffered no harm from going out.

A few days later we went to a pleasant sociable.  Apostle Taylor came forward and seated us at the head of the hall.  I was enjoying the sweet social spirit of the occasion and the friendship of many whom we met, and had just clasped hands with Sister Teasdale, when a weak sinking feeling came over me.  I hastened home as best I could, praying and trusting as I went.

There was no one to help me home as the whole colony had gone to the party and I could not find it in my heart to accept the arm of your sister who was already carrying little Catherine.  It was with great difficulty, that, with my daughters assistance I disrobed and went to bed.  I asked her to administer to me, and could make this request only in a whisper and in broken sylables (sic).  I felt that the end might be very near and would not have opened an eye to go or to stay.  I lay mentally watching who would come for me.  About 1 A.M., not being able to call, I touched a tiny bell suspended at the head of my bed and in answer your sister came to my bedside and in a perfectly calm and collected manner I told her that if anything should happen to me, where she would find everything needed, even to my obituary.  I also told her my mind as to a little matter of business and also what course to take in order to have agreeable company in the event of my departure.   My daughter Kate was my only care at this critical moment, she being in exile and away from every kin.  Then, as I had nothing more upon my mind to speak of, nor strength to do so, I was ready to go if my time had come, and as I felt sleepy I knew not if I should wake in the spirit world or in this.  I only watched to see who would come to meet me.

The night passed, the morning dawned, I was still here.  So had Father willed it.  That morning by mail I received a photo of my son George Q. so handsome that it surprised me.  Elder D.H. Harris who had seen him recently testifies that the picture was a correct likeness and others corroborated the statement.  As I looked at the picture and contemplated the pure and lovely life he had led and his devotion to God and the good of mankind and the high esteem in which he was held and thought of the many times his life had hung on a thread, I could not express the gratitude of my heart.  I asked myself the question; - "How is it that I am so blessed?  How is it I was sent to parents who had taught me to love God and serve Him and enabled me to rear my children after the manner in which I had been taught?  Woe be unto me if  I stray from the path in which I had been taught to walk, and woe be unto my children if they depart from the teachings they have received.  They have been the sacred charge of my life.  I stand accountable to God for the manner in which I have trained them."

The following day I was a little better, but during then night had another sinking spell.  Not wishing to disturb our neighbor Bro. Harris, I again asked your sister to administer to me.  She did so, trembling with fear, although she appeared perfectly calm.  Her prayers were answered and the next morning I felt joy in my heart that I still lived and was restored to my little Kate, while she rejoiced that her mother had been restored to her.

One morning, a few days later, a rap came to the door and there stood a handsome little boy with a basket of red apples such as I had been wanting ever since I had been ill.  They were the gift of Sister Teasdale.  How kind the Father is!

We felt it desirable to consult Dr. Farr, who after an examination reported that my internal organs were in a deplorable condition on account of lacerations sustained more than fifty years ago and a displacement of other organs as a result.  Her treatment gave me some relief.

The following day Sister Harper and Sister Harris called but I was not able to see them.  Bishop Bently came but I was not able to talk to him.  He administered to me with great power and I received a great blessing and rested well afterwards.

Bro. Harris, who had administered to me on several occasions, brought Apostle John W. Taylor and Apostle Cowley.  They blessed me with life, health, comfort of mind and power to return home if I so desired.  Feeling better, I arose and dressed and went into the front room.  At the close of the morning meeting of the Stake Conference President Ivins called to see me.  I much enjoyed his visit.  He had missed me at Conference, and not knowing that I was ill, had come to see me.  In administering to me he told me that if I would pray fervently to God and take care of myself, I should begin to mend from that time.  Relief came about midnight.

Miss Almeda Perry, of the faculty of the Academy came and said that they missed me so much at the Theological class and that President Wilson inquired regarding my health every time they met.  Many other callers came, including Sister Caroline and Emma Eyring, Lilly Romney, and Bro. Hyrum and Sister Annie Harris.

Naturally our dear ones at home had to be made acquainted with the condition of affairs and we received a telegram from my son George Q. to say that he was coming immediately.  I tried hard to get up and sit on the porch so that when he should arrive I might be as well as possible.  Mamma too, was very busy, being anxious to do a large amount of washing which had been delayed on account of a scarcity of water, before he should arrive.

After some delay, owing to the lateness of the stage, he arrived.  The meeting was a very happy one and can better be imagined than described.  We had not seen much of him in six years.  It seemed so lovely to have him with us, although I had not strength to talk much, but his presence was just as sweet.

Your brother had come to take us back to home and loved ones as soon as my health would permit me to take the journey.  Hearing of this many friends called, among them sweet Jennie Whipple, a member of the Spanish class.  I felt sad at the thought of parting with her and our many dear friends.

Your sister Kate and George Q. now started to make preparations for our departure and I sat out in the air as much as possible in order to gain strength.  One afternoon Sister Pearce called to show me her new baby, but after a short conversation I was obliged to excuse myself, owing to fatigue from talking.

As the news of our approaching departure was noised about, more people called to see us.  Mr. Burt Redd and Miss Louis McDonald were the first to call.  Then Mrs. Lizzie Walser and her daughter Mrs. Romney.  Mrs. Charles E. McClellan and babies whose husband called later, then Mrs. Whipple and her beautiful babies.  The love and respect expressed by these dear friends was something pathetic I hardly knew that I as noticed by them, and here  they came bringing their lovely babies in their arms to wish us a tender goodbye.  Tears of emotion filled my eyes as I contemplated their thoughtful attention.

Then I had a call from Sister Elizabeth Ivins, who is to me a most charming woman.  Although I was not able to talk to her I enjoyed looking at her and observed that she enjoyed conversing with George Q., who suspended his preparations for our departure in order to talk to her.  I was pleased to have him meet the wife of our highly esteemed president Anthony W. Ivins.  Bro. Leslie Cooms a young brother of our friend dear Sister Harper, then called to bid us goodbye, followed later by a bevy of young ladies whom I hastened to receive in the front room as it was nearing sundown and the air upon the porch was a little cool.  The young ladies were my classmates in the Juarez Academy and were as follows:  The Misses Florence Ivins, Mabel Stevens, Leah Ivins, Eliza Clayton, Belva Welling and Kate Spillsbury.  Soon after their departure my dear teacher and principal of the Academy, Professor Guy C. Wilson called.  His influence seemed to give me new life, he expressed faith in my complete recovery.

All this excitement perhaps was too much for me and my poor little Kate had to arise at 4 A.M. to give me nourishment and then remained up in order to continue her work of washing and packing.  Poor George Q. although our lovely guest, had to be our humble servant, tearing my carpets and moving things generally.  My health making it impossible for me to render such assistance made me feel discouraged.

The next day Mr. Burton Redd, one of my classmates at the academy came to take me for a drive in his buggy drawn by spirited horses, thinking it would benefit my health, and as a mark of respect.  As we drove past the Academy I caught a glimpse of sweet Mabel Stevens and Miss Parry who had recently called to see me.  During our drive I talked to our young friend of matters that would be of value to him in his future life if he adheres to them.  Later he took me to the home of Aunt Margaret where we were invited to spend our last night in Juarez.  Apostle Teasdale and his wife were there awaiting the arrive of George Q. whom they wished to bear messages from them to the First Presidency.  I felt too ill to meet them and had to sit on the porch.  The wind was raging.  George Q. and Kate came about 5 o'clock and partook of the repast which Aunt Margaret had so kindly provided.  Reclining upon the couch I enjoyed listening to their pleasant conversation. After supper they had to return to the dreary house to complete their moving arrangements.  Poor children, it pained me to see them so tired and so bothered.  They did not return until about midnight, when I settled down upon a lounge that Aunt Margaret had prepared for my bed in the parlor.  I felt thankful to be quiet and rest.

By nine o'clock the next morning we were ready to depart.  As we passed the Bishop's, Sister Gladys Bently came out to wish us good-bye.  (Dear sensitive, intelligent Gladys, how I have longed to meet thee, but I cannot until I have passed into the beyond.)  We did not know as we said farewell, that we should never see her again in this life.  Passing by the Hotel Harper, its kind hostess came out to express her love and friendship in a substantial manner.  She begged to take Catherine for a moment to see little Ida, who was broken hearted at parting from her little playmate whom she had loved so dearly.  Then Sister Harper ran to the store and bought a little silk handkerchief as a parting gift to little Catherine, who held it in her tiny hand during the rest of our eighteen miles ride.  Apostle Teasdale and president Ivins also met us on the ways to wish us God-speed.

After a ride of four hours we arrived in Colonia Dublane where we waited until the morning to continue our journey.

Although it was in the month of April and the weather warm, I suffered very much with coldness in my feet but when we were seated in the pleasant parlor, seeing an organ there I commenced to play and found that the exercise of the pedals aided the circulation of blood in my feet and made them warmer.  I requested my son George Q. to go and call upon my friend Bro. Bennie La Baron, son of my very dear friend Sister Esther Johnson Le Baron, deceased.  As he stood in the doorway, about to depart upon this errand, your brother turned around with a smile and loving twinkle in his eye and said; - "If you continue your music I shall not go."  He had not seen much of me in the past three years, but during my recovery from my severe illness in Salt Lake I had learned to accompany myself upon the piano.  This little incident took me back to my home and its pleasant parlor and the memory of the songs of my childhood.  The following day we started upon our journey.  "How should I ever stand it?" I thought.  We took the 8 A.M. train for El Paso.  Here, while some of our party were battling with the Custom House officials I tried to get a cool shady place to rest in, for the weather was excessively warm.  Then we boarded the Pullman, reaching Delheart about 3 P.M. the following day and were glad to rest in the Delheart Hotel there.  Poor little Catherine had been sick most of the journey, making it extra hard from her mamma and Uncle George, but they took everything in good part.  I was not able to eat much, but made beef extract for use upon the journey whenever possible.

By 2 A.M. we were off again in the Pullman for Pueblo arriving about noon the following day.   It was raining and I was glad to go to bed as soon as we were settled in the hotel, while the others went down to dinner.

At midnight we took the train again and awaking at daybreak, I looked out of the window of the car and saw that the ground was covered with snow, - a strange sight for us.  I had been very anxious to see the Royal Gorge as we passed through it but upon inquiring of a colored porter, found that we were already far beyond that point.  I felt some disappointment but should have made inquiries before retiring as to what hour se should pass through it.  After breakfast I seated myself at the car window, and while inhaling the fresh air enjoyed the grand scenery of the Great Colorado Basin.  Having studied the physical geography of this, that was once a great inland of sea, I noticed with great interest the water mark where the waves lashed off the sides of the basin thousands, perhaps, of years ago.  I was delighted wit the coloring of the various strata of earth and the constantly varying scenery.  As evening approached we were nearing the border of our beloved Utah.  As the shades of evening closed over us, I felt something as the desciples (sic) must have felt at the last supper, although they knew not what was before them, nor understood.  But I knew that at the coming midnight my little Kate and her precious babe and I must part, and whether we might ever meet again I knew not.  But there seemed to be someone above me saying these words; - "Fear not, I am with thee, Oh, be not dismayed."

At midnight we reached the Salt Lake depot and when I heard that my daughter Effie, my son Nephi, and my son-in-law, E.T. Ashton were awaiting me, I knew that I was in safe hands, and when I heard your sister Effie say, "There she is." and felt their loving arms around me, I thanked God.

Soon I was seated in the cozy seating room in your sister Effie's pretty home, before a glowing fire in the open grate, and when I finally retired to my bed about 2 A.M. it was indeed with a feeling of gratitude to my Heavenly Father that I had been permitted to look upon their loved faces once more.

The next day your sister Addie, with her husband and three of their lovely children came to greet me.  My heart was filled with joy as I pressed them to my heart.  Gaughn, the oldest boy with them, pled with me to go to their house with them that very day.  He was a handsome looking boy.  They remained with us several hours, and before they left, George Q. with whom we had parted the night previous at the depot, and who had so tenderly cared for us for the last five days, joined us and remained some time after Addie and her family had left.

A little later Aunt Matie Ashton called and we had a pleasant chat after an absence of two years.  Then Miss Clara Ball, now about twenty years of age, but at one time a little girl in my Primary class.  She has seen already enough of the ups and downs of life to appreciate present blessings.  Later in the evening Miss Lizzie Ashton called and another pleasant interview ensued.  Then your brother Nephi came, having been detained all day with his various religious duties.  He engaged in quite a long discussion with your sister Effie and your cousin Marvin O. Ashton regarding the latter's future employment and higher education.

The next day I had the privilege of seeing my first great grandchild, Morris Badger Ashton.

The evening approached, and I went to Forest Dale where I saw four more of my beautiful grand-daughters, Addie, Marian, Lucile and Gene Cannon.  This was a happy meeting.  As I pressed their loved forms to my heart and their lips to mine, my heart was overflowing with joy.  These dear girls served ice-cream and fruit-cake of their own make and we did not retire until about one o'clock in the morning.  Although I had been through so many scenes of excitement, the following day I was able to make my toilet without help.  When I awoke this morning sweet little Lois came in to see me.  I had not seen her for more than two years.  She was named after my middle name and was such a sweet little spirit, almost like a little angel.

Although I felt so happy to be with my loved ones, and they vied with each other to make me comfortable, I did not gain strength and it was decided that while I was staying with your sister Addie, that I should consult with Dr. Allen of the Latter-Day-Saints hospital.  It was he who had attended your brother Nephi during his serious illness of year previous.  After an examination he decided that an operation was necessary but did not think that at the time I was strong enough to undergo it.  He said that I did not need medicine, but ordered me four raw eggs daily as well as the extract from a pound of beef.

A few days later I received a visit from you cousin Mrs. Lona P. Eldridge and beautiful daughter Mrs. Edna Stratford with her sweet babe.  While we were enjoying our affectionate greeting a lady alighted from the car who proved to be your Aunt Aggie, whom I had not seen for four years.  Your cousin Lona ran to meet her and more loving greetings ensued.  That evening, by previous invitation, my old friend Sister Birkbeck dined with us.  We had to talk by motion on account of her deafness, but enjoyed our social intercourse, for our deep love for each other had never grown cold.

The following week I had another attack of nervous prostration.

A few days later your sister Addie and her daughters gave a very pleasant party at their home for the class which master George M. Junior is president at the L.D.S.U.  For this very enjoyable occasion the rooms were beautifully decorated with plants reared by their own hands, and all was ablaze with the glow of electric lights and all hearts aglow with love and joy making glad the heart of the boy they so dearly loved.  And although I was not able to remain up long, loving hands brought me some of the dainties which were being served to the guests and which had been prepared by the skillful hands of the youthful hostesses and their mother.

My sons Nephi and George Q. were contemplating building homes upon a site in the 17^th Ward of the Salt Lake Stake and so one afternoon your brother George Q. took me to see the place.  During our drive I asked him not to let Christmas came and he still be unmarried.  He asked me how I should like him to marry the next month?  I expressed my approval, although it seemed impossible.

May 14^th, 1905, my seventieth birthday, did not find me very much restored in health.  The previous day in standing upon my feet for several minutes to ascertain something regarding the medicine I was taking, upon returning to my bed I could scarcely breathe.  I was unable to call for help although some members of the family were within a few feet of me.  I lifted up my petition to the One alone who could come to my aid and their came a small whisper; - "Fear not, I am with thee."   Then I knew that, whether I remained upon this earth or went beyond the veil all would be well with me.

My birthday, although occurring upon Sunday, the 14^th day of the month, was celebrated upon the following day, as on account of Church duties neither of my sons nor my sons-in-law could be with us for a long period at a time upon the actual anniversary.

Your sister Addie and her family had made preparations to receive several members of the family, and by 4 P.M. I was dressed ready to meet our guests, one of whom had already arrives in the person of my niece, Mrs. Aggie P. Ridges, whom I greeted with all the warmth of the companion of my youth, and she exclaimed: - "Look at this young woman."  Your sister Effie soon followed, then her husband, their son Edward M. with his wife and baby.  When I had talked as much as my safety permitted, I turned to the piano and ran over a few tunes.

Soon afterwards your brother George Q. arrived and insisted that we should go out upon the lawn, as he was determined to have a picture of his mother upon that, her seventieth birthday.  The artist whom he had brought with him arranged us upon the spacious lawn under a beautiful tree.  Before we were quite ready for the picture your brother Nephi alighted from the car and to our great joy was upon the spot just in time.  The group comprised besides myself, your sister Effie and family, your sister Addie and family, your brothers Nephi and George Q., your nephew Edward M. Ashton and wife Louise Badger Ashton and  their little son, my great grand-son Morris Badger Ashton and your cousins Aggie P. Ridges and Lona P. Eldridge.  Your Aunt Aggie and your cousin Eva P. Woods did not arrive in time to be photographed.  It was so regretable (sic) that your sister Kate and little Catherine could not be present also, God bless them.

From the lawn we adjourned into the dining room where a sumptuous dinner was served by your nieces Addie, Marian, Lucille and Gene Cannon and Effie Ashton.  But I was so tired that before the first course was over I was obliged to retire to my room to rest.  Later, feeling a little better I had just concluded to try to return to "the goodly company" when your brother George Q. sent for me and upon arriving in the parlor I was led to a seat of honor, when, after making a neat little speech, my oldest grandson Edward M. Ashton, presented me, in behalf of the family, with a beautiful gold breastpin set with seventy pearls representing the seventy years already passed, and three remaining pearls pointing to the future.  A fine diamond adorned the center.

After all had seen and handled the handsome jewel, songs of Zion were sung, one of them entitled: "God Bless the Pure in Heart." having been composed by your Uncle Charles L. Walker.  A sketch of my birth and infancy written by your Aunt Aggie for this occasion was read by your brother Nephi and the following sketch of the life of your Aunt Aggie, written some time previously by me and copied for the occasion by my little grand-daughter Lucille Cannon, was read by your cousin Aggie P. Ridges.

I am sorry that in some manner by mistake, the excellent paper written by your Aunt Aggie was not preserved, but the following is a copy of my brief sketch of her life.

 

SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANN AGATHA PRATT.

My sister Ann Agatha Pratt was born in Leek, Staffordshire, England, June 11, 1829.  She was tall of stature, graceful and a very fine figure.  When she was a baby people would stop in the street to admire her, she had such a noble countenance.  Her hair was dark brown, eyes grey and very large with a kindly and intelligent expression.  She had a high forehead, a good complexion with cheeks like a full blown rose.  Her nose was rather nondescript, mouth not remarkable, but her teeth were good and regular, and very white.  She was naturally intelligent, well poised and cosmopolitan in her views, a good conversationalist and a great worker and whatever she did was well done.  She was mistress of her trade, that of a milliner.

She was an apt student and although she left school at an early age continued to study throughout her life.  She was an excellent knitter and continued to exercise that useful art even when in later years deprived of her sight.

She told me that when our sister Dorcan died though she was but fifteen years old at the time she finished all the millinery work that mother had on hand at the time.  June being a busy minth (sic) for milliners.  She could do cap millinery as quickly and as well as an old hand.  When she was about 17 years old she went to work as an improvar " at a milliner"s shop in the heart of the city of Manchester, where we were living at that time.

Soon after this she emigrated to America and became the wife of Apostle Parley P. Pratt.  She drove an ox team across the plains in the year 1847 and passed cheerfully through all the privations and hardships of this period, including ploughing, planting, stacking hay and making shoes.  (They were leather shoes and made upon a wooden last.)  She was good enough to teach me this useful art, and I was proud of her efforts in this regard as well as of my own.

She earned many hundreds of dollars by millinery work; yes, I think during her long life it might have amounted to thousands of dollars, for in those days, the wives of the apostles had to support themselves and their children a great deal of the time.

Sister Agatha loved to sing and was a member of the Tabernacle Choir when that building stood where the Assembly Hall now stands, before it was torn down in the year 1875.

She was President of the 19^th Ward Relief Society for many years with Sister Ann Neal and Sister Whipple for councellors, and when she moved out to Mill Creek and built a home there her former Bishop would not give her up.

After she moved to Ogden she was chosen secretary of the First Ward organizations and of Relief Society and continued in the good work for many years.

She has borne her trials with becoming fortitude and her sorrows with that meek submission that becometh a saint.  And when in a great degree she had become deprived of her sight she still wrote and continued to exhibit that cheerful spirit which characterized her whole life.   She was always most excellent company, genial, mirthful and well posted in current events and general topics, and her heart was always so overflowing with the milk of human kindness that she had a good word to say of most people.

Her life was rich in experience and she sustained all the day long by thought, word and deed the principle of plural marriage, which to my mind is like the refiner's fire and the fuller's soap.

I cannot recall a single unkind word occuring between us during our whole lives.  The following incident will serve to show how my sister Agatha and I got along together; During the time that our sister Dorcas lay a corpse, Agatha wanted me to get some article that was in Mother's bedroom.  I being only nine years old, I naturally dreaded going through a room where a dead body lay.  But I braved the death chamber and went for the article desired, for I could not say "no" to my elder sister.

I will relate an incident of her childhood as she gave it to me; - When she was a very little child she went for a walk with my father, who was very fond of taking his children with him whenever possible.  As they stood by a stall where green peas were sold, she saw a boy pick up a pod and supposing that she might do the same reached out her little hand and took one also.  Father had her kneel down and ask that woman's pardon and then he took his little child into the church-yard and talked to her very solemnly for a long time, showing her the evil of such conduct.

My sister was the mother of seven noble children who lie very near to my heart.  Two of these, Marian and Louie have been gathered to a brighter and better land.  Following are the names of the others; - Agatha P. Ridges, Molona P. Eldredge, Moroni Walker Pratt, Evaline P. Woods, Wilford Owen Ridges, the youngest son.  At the time of the death of my baby niece Marian, I was in the city of St. Louis, but was present at the death and funeral of her sister Louie.  I still recall that upon this sad occasion I noticed with profound admiration mingled with deep love, that upon our return from the grave, although her frame was quivering with grief, not a word of complaint passed her lips, but that from the depth of her grief stricken heart these words ascended to her God, - "Thy will be done."

Here is an incident in her life related by herself.  She says that when she was a very little child they were awakened by a cry of "Fire."  My father arose and dressed, then dressing her put her upon his shoulder and took her to see the fire.  It was only a short distance away from our house.  The building was a six story brick building situated in quite a narrow street with a similar building upon the opposite side.  When they arrived flames were pouring through every window and the fire engine was throwing water upon the building on the opposite side of the street, knowing that it would be impossible to save the already burning building.  As she sat upon her father's shoulder she wondered why they did not throw water upon the building that was on fire, being too young to understand why they should wet a building that was not on fire.  Years afterwards she was relating the circumstances of the fire.  My father was in another room and heard her tell it.  He said "Which way did we go?"  She replied, "Through Lounge's entry, it being a nearer way to reach the fire."  When my father heard it he was astonished that she could remember the occurrence, for she could not at the time have been more than a year and a half old. 

 

MARRIAGE OF MY SON GEORGE Q.

One beautiful evening in May, (1905) I was seated upon the porch, when across the lawn came my darling boys.  Their faces were beaming with joy, and I felt like inquiring: "What is the best news," but refrained from doing so.  Later I was called into the library, followed by my son George Q. who seemed as if he had something of importance to communicate to me but could hardly trust himself to make the communication.  But George M. kind brother that he is, came to the rescue and said that George Q. was called upon a mission!  "To where?" I demanded, and before they could answer I stated; that "he must be married first."  Then I heard the news: that he expected to be married the following month to the talented and famous singer and faithful latter-day-saint, Miss Emma Ramsey.  Expressions of joy followed and after a little private chat wit the prospective bridegroom and before we were seated at the supper table, little Gene and her smaller sister Lois had sent loving letters to their prospective Aunt.  I retired to rest that night with a thankful heart.

A few days later your brother George Q. brought his fair fiancee to see us, she having just arrived from New York City.  She wore a blue suit with hat to match which was becoming to her and she looked really charming.  I should describe her as of medium height, slender in form, fair complexion and pretty features, very fine brown hair hazel eyes, rosy cheeks, manning charming and easy. 

We spent an hour or so pleasantly and then they departed arm in arm, I felt very much pleased with my prospective daughter-in-law.

On Sunday, June 11th, my son George Q. and Miss Ramsey came to dine with us and also to decide upon who should be invited to their wedding, for they had decided that this important event should not be delayed, but take place at the end of the month.  That important matter disposed of, we discussed other matters upon the same subject and it was past ten o'clock before the happy couple took their departure, but not before Miss Ramsey had found her way deeper into my heart.

The young couple had chosen June 29th , the anniversary of my husband's birthday, for their wedding day.  This is also the day upon which we hold the Morris family reunion. 

About three hundred invitations had been issued for the wedding reception which was to be held at the home of your sister Addie, in Forest Dale.  Naturally the entertainment of such a large company necessitated considerable preparation, but all were gladly willing to lend a helping hand.  Early in the morning of the eventful day my son George M. was at work trimming the hedges with a man to assist him.  For some days he had been working very hard upon the grounds, while a ban of young ladies had been equally busy planning, designing and gathering flowers for the in-door decorations.

The ceremony which was to unite my son George Q. and Miss Emily Marian Ramsey, was performed by President F.M. Lyman, who had long before expressed a wish to do so.  At one o'clock the bridal party was in residence.  It consisted of the following persons besides the bride and groom; and myself; my son Nephi, my sons-in-law E.T. Ashton and George M. Cannon, the bride's parents and some members of their family.  Also Mrs. Susa Young Gates and her distinguished daughter Emma Lucy Gates.  There were also many other friends who assembled to witness the event of the first of Elias Morris's sons who was to take unto himself a wife.  Many heartfelt congratulations were offered by these and many other friends with whom I had become intimately acquainted, who came from different parts of the Temple to greet us upon this auspicious occasion.  An invitation had been extended to us to go to the suite of rooms in the Constitution Building where the bride's parents lived and where the bride had a studio, where a sumptuous wedding dinner was served to the bridal party and some of their intimate friends by Bro. and Sister Ramsey and their daughters, who did all in their power to show their love and devotion to their beloved daughter and sister and her husband.

On our way from the Temple to the Constitution Building of young friends were gathered together to express their good feelings by showering the bridal pair with rice, and one man threw his hat down for George to walk over.  This kindly demonstration caused not a little amusement, but we were not sorry to retreat into the welcome shelter of Sister Ramsey's home as soon as possible.

About four o'clock I took a car to Forest Dale to take a much needed rest before the arrival of the wedding guests.  It seemed to pleasant to sit upon the flag draped porch and look at the beautifully decorated grounds, festooned with lamps ready to give forth their many colored lights as soon as the glorious sunbeams should fade and make it possible for them to shed their rainbow tints through the foliage of the beautiful trees.  The interior decorations by this time were the admiration of all.

The first persons to arrive and while the suns rays were yet with us, were the Bride and Groom, the bride's parents, and the bride's maid in a carriage drawn by white horses.

While it was still daylight, Apostle George Albert Smith called to excuse himself on account of the illness of his wife.  Such a beautiful influence accompanied his visit!  We were also honored by the presence of Apostle Anthon H. Lund.

The groom was in full dress, and the bride looked lovely in a handsome dress of white lace with white satin slippers and everything else to correspond.  She carried an exquisitely beautiful bridal bouquet with dainty long streamers, also of flowers.  The bridesmaid, Miss Jennie Sands was also beautifully attired in white with a bouquet of flowers mounted similar to that of the bride only that it was colored flowers.  The bride's mother wore black silk and her father was dressed in the uniform of an officer in the Army, he having served in that capacity in the Federal Army during the Civil War.   I wore a black silk waist with a voile skirt of neat design, with a cream colored necktie pinned with the handsome diamond and pearl pin presented to me by my children upon my birthday a short time before.  I also carried a boquet (sic) suitable for the occasion.

The bridal pair stood under a canopy decorated with three bells made of flowers, with a background of handsome palms, ferns, etc.  Beside receiving a congratulations of the more than two hundred guests assembled, many friends from other states sent letters and telegrams and many beautiful presents expressive of their hearty good wishes.

The bridal party kept their position until about ten o'clock, when all were invited out on the lawn where long and elegantly decorated tables were spread with a rich repast, served by a Mrs. Johnson.  The ladies in waiting were the nieces of the groom assisted by lady friends.

The first long table was filled by the relatives of the bride and groom.  'They' being at the head, and seated near them Victor P. Wells, the groom's attendant, and Miss Jennie Sands, the bridesmaid.  Also Apostle Anthon H. Lund as another honored guest.

After our return from the banquet tables, we were treated to songs by the bride, her voice being such that we listened to her in breathless silence.

As midnight approached the goodly company began to realize that the car service would soon close and they must depart.

Later, the carriage drawn by white horses again arrived and while the coachman partook of some refreshments we lingered near the happy couple, and as they stepped into the carriage, nephews and nieces showered rice upon them as the last expression of love and good wishes, until their return from their bridal trip to California.

About a week later I experienced a strange sensation of unrest.  I had risen early and having done my usual work had returned from transacting some business in town but felt now that I could not settle to anything.  I wanted to leave the beautiful home of my daughter Addie who had so tenderly nursed me through my recent illness and who was now herself sick and had been for the past few days at the hospital.  Still I felt that I was not in the right place and as if some unseen power were pushing me away.

 

EXILE AGAIN

In the midst of my endeavor to account for this very unpleasant feeling, I received a message stating that my daughter was sick and that I was needed in Preston, Idaho without delay; in fact, that I must leave on the 4:10 train and it was not 2 P.M.  My circumstances were very peculiar, your sister Kate being in exile at the time, and I had to take an unexpected journey of over a hundred miles and not able to tell anyone, even my grand-daughters who were in the house, where I was going or why.  My daughter Addie being away from home also made the matter so much more difficult.  A strange woman was in the house assisting with the work, but of course I could not make a confidant of her or her assistance without creating suspicion on her part perhaps.  I was five miles from town and should be ready in an hour.  What could I do to accomplish an object which seemed impossible without Divine aid?  So I went to Him who had always aided me when in trouble.  As I worked a prayer was scarcely ever absent from my heart for it seemed impossible to have the packing done in time.  I urged little Vaughan to prepare the conveyance to take me to the depot and when right in the midst of this strain I was told that there was a fire in the orchard!  I refused to even look, knowing that I could do nothing to help and the terrible thoughts the sight of it would bring to my mind of a past horror which would unfit me for the battle which I was then fighting.

My dear little grand-daughter Addie seemed to sense the situation, for although her hands were already full, she told her sister Marian to come to my assistance.  My son Nephi, in the meantime, was keeping the telephone wires rather warm urging me not to delay, and I tried to appear cool and collected although it was the hottest month of the year and the warmest part of the day.

At 3:35 I was seated in the buggy and strange to relate at 3:45 we reached the City Hall as the chime of the clock testified.  We had still another five or six blocks to go before we could reach the office of Elias Morris and Sons Company.  No one was there to look out for us as I had naturally supposed there would be, but instead I had to ask a stranger where my son Nephi might be found.  However, in spite of all, it was only 3:55 when we entered the depot!  There I was surprised to see my son-in-law E.T. Ashton, for I knew him to be exceedingly busy at that time.  Twice he wished me an affectionate good-bye which did not harm to my poor harassed heart.

As we entered the car, the stifling air that met us seemed as if it had come from a furnace, and the car was so packed with returning excursionists that there seemed to be no room for one's feet.  Finally my son Nephi found me a seat, next to a stranger whom, in his hurry, he had termed a friend, but I felt satisfied that he was nothing to us, or of us, and looked round in vain for a friendly face.  Fortunately, I was surrounded with parcels and afraid to move or hardly look at any one for fear of being questioned with regard to my affairs.  It seemed that there would never be any more room or relief from the sweltering heat, for as one person left the car, another came aboard.  However, after a while, as we went further north, the throng seemed to thin out a little and the car assume the respectable appearance of a Pullman, and the journey became more pleasant.

As we stopped at Logan Apostles John Henry Smith and Hyrum M. Smith entered the car, and I felt thankful that there were some, at least, who were of our faith near me, but I was afraid to look at them or their ladies, who were seated near me in case they might question me too closely.  Oh, no one who has never been an exile, can know of the dread that one who is in it endures!

Another added torment was that I was wearing a pair of shoes that had not yet been broken in and hurt me so badly that I as obliged to take one of them off.

As night covered the earth with her sable garment I reached my journey's end.  A buggy was awaiting me and a strange man and a little girl took charge of me as I hobbled into it as best I could, but I was thankful to find soon afterwards that my precious Kate was by this time in good hands and being comfortably taken care of.

It appeared that upon the previous Saturday she had perhaps been over-fatigued, having done a large washing the day before, and about nine o'clock in the evening was suddenly taken ill.  There was no one with her or near her but Baby Catherine and no telephone, and she could do nothing for herself, for her only hope lay in lying perfectly still.  So she lay all night, fearing and trembling and being no better she lay in the same condition without help or much nourishment, as she had no one to send for aid except baby Catherine, and she was afraid to let her out of her sight in case she should never return.

On Monday, by chance, or better by a kind of Providence, some one called, when a doctor was summoned and a nurse engaged.  She recovered from this attack and the doctor rather misled us by holding out hopes that all might now be well.  And so she was kept in suspense for months, when a medical examination proved that an operation was necessary to save her life, and so her hopes were dashed to the ground.  Of course I remained with her during all this trying period but returned to Salt Lake for a few days to be present at the Jubilee of my beloved son-in-law E.T. Ashton.  The following lines express some of my thoughts while absent from her upon this occasion.  They are dedicated to my little Catherine; -

 

TO MY LITTLE CATHERINE.

(July, 1905)

 

Would that I were with thee,

This charming summer night

And from thy large blue eyes

Drink in love's pure delight.

                Could I but clasp they hands

                And feel their velvet touch

                My heart would leap its joyous bonds

                I love thee, oh, so much!

Could I but hear thy rippling laugh

Contagious as can be

And here thee run, and see thee quaff

The joy, twixt thee and me.

                And when thou layest thy little head

                With joy into my lap

                My weariness at once has fled,

                My youthfulness come back.

For I prefer to share with thee

Thy lonliness "unknown?

For thy wee heart is filled with glee

Although in exile thrown.

 

PART TWO

 

And thy young mother meekly bears

Her lonely lot, from kindred torn;

I turn from her to hide my tears,

I bear her sorrow as my own.

My sympathy, so true and strong,

We keenly sense another's woe

And with them suffer deep and long

As o'er life's surging flood we go.

                For I would rather be with her

                In her lone hours of trial keen

                Than basking in love's circle fair

                'Mong these with whom my life has been;

And yet I love them deep and true

As Mother's only, save a few,

Still from their tender hearts I tear

With our own lonely one to share.

                As I've been with thee all thy days

                Dost think that I would leave thee now?

                No, not if Death, with his dread ways

                Should stike (sic), and chill this aged brow!

 

Until March of the following year I remained in exile with your sister, but as my health declined she preferred that I should go where I could have better care and skill than was to be had in far off Idaho, so I returned to Salt Lake City.

 

ENGAGEMENT AND MARRIAGE OF NEPHI

On the 5^th of January, 1907 my son Nephi attended a party at the old historic Lion House, where he made the acquaintance of Miss Hattie Young, daughter of Col. Willard Young and his wife Mrs. Hattie Hooper Young.  The party was given under the auspices of the Latter Day Saints University of which Col. Young was president.  The Colonel introduced your brother to three charming young ladies at the same time, and while he queried as to how he could pay attention to either without slighting the other two, Miss Hattie came forward and in a joking, although earnest manner, claimed his attention and his company.  He says that he "caught the spirit of it, and joked and acted like a kid."

Two months later, the 5^th of March, my son Nephi came home feeling very happy, for this young lady had accepted his proffered hand in marriage.  My daughter Kate and I were very happy also, for his happiness was near to our hearts too.

A more charming personality than Hattie's one could hardly find, and a disposition as candid as a child, although she possesses a mind of her own and has fine business ability.  Besides having received a liberal education along scholastic lines she had received excellent training in cooking and the management of household affairs.

She is tall, well proportioned, with a fine figure and graceful carriage.  Her complexion is fair and her hair and eyes dark, while in her cheeks is a fascinating little dimple.  She has beautiful hands and arms and when I kiss her sweet lips or neck I want to kiss her again and put my arms around her graceful form.

Your brother had some time previous build and furnished a beautiful home in which your sister Kate and I were living at the time, for our mutual convenience, until he should  bring into it, as its mistress, the lady of his choice.  Not wishing to slip upon the polished floors he had bought three handsome rugs, one for the dining room, one for the library, one for the parlor, and another for the hall, all of equal beauty and quality.

The chairs and tables in the dining-room were elegant and the curtains for that and the bed-room both pretty and tasteful.

The library was handsomely furnished, the walls being lined with book-cases, ebony in color, filled with the choicest books.  The table, chairs and mantel matched the book cases and the woodwork of the room was also of the same color.  The windows were high and made of beautifully stained glass.

On the row of book-cases on the south side of the room stood a statue of the "The Indian Medicine Man" by Dallin and upon the row on the east side another statue of "Paul Revere" by the same gifted sculptor.  On the north side of the room, above the folding doors, hung a picture of President McKinley and his staff signing the document that settled the question of the annexation of the Phillipines (sic) to the United States.  The expression on the faces of these great men was life-like.  It seemed that on could almost hear them speak as they looked up into the face of their good and noble president, whose eyes were looking down upon the table where the Secretary of State sat, pen in hand, looking up, awaiting the instructions of his beloved leader.

On the other side of the folding doors, hung a steel engraving of President Brigham Young, grandfather of the lady who was soon to preside over the house.  Upon the west side of this room were lofty folding doors, which, when thrown open made that and the parlor one magnificent room.  The parlor, at this time was not furnished, with the exception of an handsome rug, elegant fireplace and mirrored mantle of mahogany, and window curtains to suit the wall paper.

The kitchen was covered with ingrain oilcloth of two shades of green and light drab and the walls covered with a deep wainscoting of oilcloth to match.  The kitchen contained a handsome stove, which we had proved to be a perfect baker, a kitchen cabinet, good chairs and plenty of good table linen.  In one corner was the sink and in the opposite corner a porcelain wash bowl.  The pantry was conveniently arranged and well stocked.  The basement ran the whole length of the house and was fitted with every convenience, and but a few steps from the rear yard, which is not a pretty lawn bordered by fruit trees and flowers.

Soon after his engagement to Miss Young, my son Nephi brought his prospective bride to see the interior of her future home.  I, as mistress, pro tem. of my son's home had the house as bright and cheery and as neat as my strength would allow.  It had been one of the aims of my life to have my home, however humble, as neat and cosy as circumstances would permit, and also to be as particular with regard to my personal cleanliness and neatness as I could, and I always endeavored to make some changes in my attire for the evening.  And so I waited her coming seated in the cosy dining-room, a bright fire in the grate sending its kindly radiance over the room which was also lighted with electricity.  My son Nephi went to fetch her, as had been arranged, and I can see her now as she entered and greeted me before removing her wraps. Hattie is a lady, not only in manner, but in dress, and her wardrobe was of superb quality, perfect in fit, modern in style and modest in color.  She wore, upon that evening, if I remember aright, a plaid skirt and thin white embroidered waist.  Her wrap was of velvet.  She was so handsome that it certainly was a pleasure to me, although one of her sex and advance in years, to look at her, for I am always charmed to look at a good and beautiful woman.

I noticed with pleasure with what care and courtesy my son received her wraps when she removed them and also, when she had seen the house, how courteously he assisted her to put them on again, and how easily the white satin lining of her coat slipped over her elegant form.  It was quite a satisfaction for me to see my son manifest this high esteem for his lady love.

I would not have my children and grand children think that because a girl has been reared in affluence that she is any better in the sight of God or of thinking people than a girl who has had to struggle and make her way onward in life by her own efforts, for such is not the case.

There are advantages to be had in affluence that cannot be had in lowly life and there are lessons which are valuable, perhaps invaluable to be learned in adversity which cannot be learned in the lap of abundance. So that whatever advantage a maiden has gained in either case, she brings the same to the home of her husband and future family.  So let us give all their due, and appreciate the good that we find in everybody.

Time sped on space, and by the beginning of June matters were in readiness for their marriage.

Now it happened that our esteemed friend President Anthon H. Lund wished to perform the ceremony of marriage of my son Nephi on account of their intimacy while the former was president of the European Mission, and the latter presiding over the London Conference.  I also had a great desire to gratify the wish of our distinguished friend, but Colonel Young had a particular wish in this regard which his daughter was also anxious to gratify.  It so happened that our beloved leader, President Joseph F. Smith had performed the ceremony which had made Colonel Willard Young and Miss Hattie Hooper man and wife, and so he wished that the same gentleman should perform the ceremony which should make his eldest daughter and Nephi L. Morris man and wife also.  Of course we were pleased with this arrangement.

The marriage took place on the 5^th of June, 1907 soon after 9 A.M.  This early hour was chosen on account of a previous engagement which President Smith had later in the day.  As I sat with some of our party on the porch of the Temple gate house I saw the bride enter the gate, looking as happy and as composed as any of the rest.  She laughingly informed me that she had washed the dishes and made the beds before coming to the Temple.  Of the Hopper family there were present the parents of the bride, Mrs. Young's sister, Mrs. Tom Jennings, and Bro. Young's sisters Mrs. Zina Y. Card, Mrs. Dougal, and I think sweet Mrs. Phoebe Y. Beatie and perhaps some others of the famly may have met us in the Temple later.  Of the grooms family there were Mrs. Effie M. Ashton and her husband, Mrs. Addie M. Cannon and her husband, and I think his sister Barbara and her husband.  The words of President Smith upon this occasion were the most impressive that I have ever heard during a marriage ceremony and I felt thankful that my dear son was at last married and to one whose training had been such as to render her a good wife and mother and above all a good Latter-Day-Saint.

After the ceremony a wedding breakfast was held at the home of the bride and they left immediately afterwards for their bridal tour.

My mind reverts to the first time that I saw Hattie after their return as she ran down from the elevation of their beautiful home to meet me with open arms, bless her.  And when invited to dine with them, the cooking and setting would have pleased the most fasticious taste, and if Nephi should bring a prince home to dine with them he need not be uneasy, for Hattie can cook for the most exacting and entertain just as easily.

On the morning of the 12^th of March 1908, as I emerged from the Annex and was about to descend into the Temple to do a work for one of my dead, I saw our friend and faithful employee Bro. Louis R. Wells, who looked very pleased and addressing himself to me, told me that my son Nephi's wife had presented him with a fine boy and that all was doing well.  This was indeed joyful news to me.  And all during the day a quiet ripple of enthusiasm was heard in the Temple.  I suppose all Salt Lake Stake rejoiced to hear of its president having a son born to him in less than a year after a marriage which had been unwittingly delayed.  The name selected for this welcome little stranger was Lowell Young Morris.

I believe with the record of this very important event I will close this Sketch of my Life, which was begun at the request of my son George Q. and my daughter Kate.  I began it in the month of October 1901, making the period upon which I have worked upon it about 15 years.

 

ORIGINAL POEMS, ETC.

CHRISTMAS, 1895

 

Christmas, happiest day of all!

And doubly so in this abode

Because we're ransomed from the Fall

And two fond hearts are joined in one.

                Has peace and plenty crowned this love?

                Yes, joy unspeakable is theirs

                For with the sanction from above

                Is linked success in all life's cares.

Rosy cherubs some to them

Addie, George and Marian sweet

Then Lucille and Genie lamb

And Vaughan, which makes the six complete.

                On Christmas day of 'sixty one'

                A mother's heart was filled with joy

                She then beheld her first born son

                Who brought her peace with alloy.

So now, when silver threads the brown

Sweet children gambol round her chair

They now her life's exertion crown

Their Father, was her loving care.

 

Note: - The last two verses have reference to Sister Sarah Maria Cannon, mother of your brother George M. Cannon.

 

KITTY IN THE WELL.

(Written in Mexico)

 

Little Kitty down the well,

How she came there I can't tell; -

Whether thrown, or down she fell, -

But little Kitty's down the well.

                I'll throw her some good soft string

                And with her little paws she'll cling

                Then I'll draw her up, you see,

                And from the well she'll be set free.

Now she'll roll upon the grass

All the wet off her will pass

Then the sun which shines so high

Will make her coat both warm and dry.

                Then she'll jump and frisk and run

                And have such lots and lots of fun.

                Best the children climb the trees

                And do cute tricks with greatest ease.

 

A PATRIARCHAL BLESSING

Given to my husband   John Morris

                                                                                Salt Lake City, Dec. 9, 18'3

A Blessing, by John Smith, Partiarch, upon the head of John Thomas Morris, son of John and Barbara Morris, born Llanfair, Tallhearn (sic), Wales, February 14, about 1827 to 1829.

Brother John, in the name of Jesus Christ I place my hands upon thy head and seal upon you the blessing of a father, even all the blessings of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, because you have obeyed the Gospel with your father's house and gathered out of Babylon to risk your life and salvation among the Saints, not regarding persecution, nor the trouble through which you may be called to pass, which thing is pleasing unto the Lord, and your name is written in the Lamb's Book of Life and you shall have ministering angels to comfort you.

You shall be blessed with health, with wisdom and knowledge; with the Priesthood in fullness which will give you power to do any work which is necessary for the rolling forth of the cause of Zion.

You are appointed to gather the people together from the ends of the earth, for you are the blood of Ephraim.  You shall be blessed in your family, shall prosper exceedingly and become very mighty in the earth.  You shall gather thousands and lead them to Zion.  Your name shall be honorable in the House of Israel.  You shall live to see the winding up scene of this generation and inherit the fullness of eternal life with your Redeemer.  Even So                               

Amen

 

ANOTHER BLESSING GIVEN TO MY HUSBAND, JOHN MORRIS

 

                                                                                Salt Lake City, October 19, 1854

A Blessing by Charles W. Hyde, Patriarch, upon the head of John Thomas Morris, son of John and Barbara Morris, Born in Llanfair, Tallhearn, Wales.

(Brother) John, in the name of Jesus Christ, I lay my hands upon your head and in His name I bless you by the authority which rests in me; even a patriarchal blessing.  The Spirit of the Lord shall rest down upon thee, and shall cause your heart to rejoice, and I ask the Father to heal you, that you may be whole, every whit, and according to your prayer and faith in the Lord, thou shall begin to mend from this very moment, and I ask the Father to seal this blessing upon you, in the name of Jesus Christ.  And you shall have the blessings of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and your companion shall be a blessing to you in your old age, and your posterity shall be like Jacob's and they shall be Kings and Priests unto the Lord, and they shall bear your name in the house of Joseph forever, and you shall come upon Mount Zion with the hundred and forty four thousand and a name written upon your forehead with all your father's household; - In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. 

 

My great-grandson, Edward M. Ashton, when only twelve years of age, went to work for Zion's Saving's Bank and Trust Company, and remained in their employ for a period of twelve years, when he went into business for himself.

In accepting his resignation, Mr. Geo. M. Cannon, Cashier of the bank, wrote him the following letter, of which his family is justly proud; -

                                                                                Zion's Savings Bank & Trust Co.

                                                                                Salt Lake City, Utah

                                                                                August 30, 1902

Edward M. Ashton, Esq.

My Dear Edward:

At the close of your regular employment at this Bank, I desire to express to you my appreciation of the loyalty and devotion you have always shown to myself and to the Bank and its interest.  In men connected with financial institutions honesty is the first requisite.  Not only that honesty which forbids the appropriation to ones own use of that which belongs to another, but of equal importance, that honesty which attends those who are discreet enough to understand that the business secrets of the depositors and patrons of such banks belong within the portals of the bank.  Oftentimes such secrets are more highly prized by those interested than mere money.

You have shown yourself thoroughly honest in both ways.  I would not hesitate to trust in your hands all the money I may ever hope to own, and to trust with equal confidence that they would not be betrayed, all plans and hopes for my future success.  I believe you wisely go into business for yourself, and in your business I wish you all the success you so well merit.

You will doubtless meet with many obstacles.  All business men have much to learn.  It is fortunate that we learn a great deal of it early in our business life.

If I may be permitted to suggest, I would say; "Do not plunge in your business.  A little less profit but that profit sure, is much to be preferred.  Examine everything offered you from every point of view possible, but when you have fully concluded to act, do so promptly, vigorously and persistently."

 

[End of page 469.]

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Immigrants:

Morris, Elias

Morris, John Thomas

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