time the conference sent J. H. Hansen down to help me, so, as I was looking for Bro. Hansen I postponed baptism till he came, and I think we baptized about forty in all, and we organized a branch. The first time we met in branch capacity, I noticed that they were all my relatives. I felt now, with Bro. J. H. Hansen as a helper, that we could cope with almost any kind of opposition, and indeed I found him a genial companion and an industrious worker; much more capable of presiding over the mission than I was.

I also took a trip down into South Alabama and Florida and met with splendid success. I performed but few baptisms, preferring the local authorities to do that work while I did the preaching.

After staying in the mission about eighteen months I got word from California that my mother was about to die, and she wanted me to come home if possible before she passed away. So I resigned the field in favor of Bro. Hansen. I made my way to Council Bluffs to where the conference of '74 (I think) was to be held, and from there I was again appointed to the Pacific Slope Mission.

At Ogden, while on my way to California to see my mother, I met my brother William, whom I had not seen in nineteen years. He, too, was on his way to find mother, "if she was still alive." We had supposed brother William dead for many years, yet mother always said she would see William again in this life. William had his family with him and was going to locate on the Pacific slope, but his main object in coming to California was to see mother once more if he could find her. It was by mere accident that I met him at Ogden. I only had time to exchange a few words with him, as he was on the slow train and I on the fast train. I told him I would meet him at Oakland wharf, and convey him to the steamer for Los Angeles. (There was no railroad in Southern California in those days.) I met William and only had time to hurry him to the wharf where the steamer was waiting, especially for our train. I only had time to telegraph to the folks that I was coming, but was afraid to tell them that William was also coming for fear that they would not act wisely in breaking the news to mother, for I learned by telegram that she was still alive; but mother seemed to know that William was coming, and when told I was on the way from San Francisco she said, "Yes, and William is coming to see me die." After a voyage of about forty hours we landed at San Pedro, and my brother Johnnie met me at the landing and said that mother was still alive, but very low. I went quietly into a room next to her and my sister said quietly, "Mother, Joseph is here." And mother said, "Yes, and so is William. Tell him to come in." William spoke up and said, "Yes, mother, I am here. I have come three thousand miles to see you."

She seemed to rally for a season and talked a great deal. Sometimes she would want to talk to us all together, and sometimes to one of us at a time. She several times bore her testimony to the latter-day work.

Finally, one morning early, she called us all to her bedside, and there in a clear but weak voice she bore her last testimony and bade

us all good-bye. She said she had suffered long, and endured many afflictions, since she first obeyed the gospel. It had been her comfort and consolation all through life, but it never gave such absolute comfort as it did that morning. It never seemed so precious before. She gently folded her hands across her breast, and gave one look of love at us all, and closed her eyes as though passing into a sweet and restful sleep. A most beautiful smile came upon her face. All were surprised to see such beauty in death. Yes, she was beautiful in life, but more beautiful in death. She died on November 13, 1874, in the fifty-ninth year of her age.

My covenant was now fulfilled, and I thank God that I was able to make her last days her most peaceful days, and to minister to her wants in life; then to lay her away on the hill, overlooking the beautiful city of Los Angeles.

Mother was a woman of remarkable fortitude. She suffered intensely for many years, but managed to hide her true condition so well that but few knew of it.

After this I felt that I was truly alone in the world. Although I had been away from home much of the time since I had been in the ministry, yet I felt that home was where mother was, and there my heart would turn, for there my affections were centered, and I could now answer the solemn question, "What is home without a mother?" It was nothing but a wilderness, a barren waste to me.

THE MINISTER WHO WAS DIFFERENT.

BY ELBERT A. SMITH.

(Synopsis of preceding chapters: Sidney Luther is an eloquent and able minister, in charge of the Walnut Street Church, in the city of PHis study of the Bible leads him to teach some things that are not in harmony with his church creed. Two "pillars" of the church call upon him to remonstrate. He is out and they are met by the minister's wife. They claim that they have the right to say what he shall preach because they pay his salary. The wife tells them that they can not hire her husband to preach anything, that he can not be bought and sold. At the Sunday night_service Luther decides to resign his pastorate. He is comforted by Mr. McBernie, an aged Scotchman, who assures him that the Lord will take care of him. McBernie visits the Walnut Street Church some months later and finds a new man in the pulpit. He hears a sermon on "dry bones" and decides that the sermon is quite like the subject. He meets a man in blue overalls and learns that it is Sidney Luther, now engaged in manual labor as a tanner.)

CHAPTER V.

AN UNEXPECTED LETTER, AND THE REPLY.

IDNEY LUTHER whistled a lively air as he walked homeward in the evening twilight. Soft spring breezes from the countryside wandered down the city streets. A robin chirped in the top of a poplar-tree whose leafbuds were daily swelling with their promise of future greenery. As he turned in at the open gate and walked up the path toward the little cottage that was his home, he noticed the spring flowers that had thrust themselves up through the sod bordering

his walk; tulip, crocus, hyacinth, they made a brave and bright display,-later would come the wealth of roses and summer bloom.

His sister, admirer, and chum, Minnie, came flying from the open door to meet him. Flushed cheeks, red ribbons flying from her braided hair, bright plaid dress, laughing eyes, formed an attractive addition to the spring finery of the little yard. It struck him suddenly that the bright vivaciousness of the child would soon merge into full, attractive bloom of young womanhood.

Presently the little family surrounded the supper-table (two blocks away "dinner" was being served in the Humphrey Smith residence). Grace was said, and the tanner fell to with the honest appetite of a laboring man. The tanner's wife sat in her place, a watchful eye upon the children. She was the same fine-featured, soft-tinted, unchallenged lady that she had been as "our minister's wife." Presently her low voice queried, "Well, Sidney, how did you get through the day?"

"Fine, fine," he responded heartily, at the same time intercepting an enormous spoonful of food that was approaching little Viola's mouth. "Take smaller bites, child," he chided.

"She's like Reverend Hubbard," spoke up Arthur, his own table manners not yet irreproachable. "I heard Tommy Watt's father say that when Reverend Hubbard took your place he bit off more" -again the hand intercepted.

Little Viola, who had been sitting stiff and rigid, winking very rapidly, now subsided into a pink and tousled heap of woe, rent with intermittent storms of sobs and reproaches.

Under the quiet and tactful touch of Rose Luther, the storm soon abated, and little Viola resumed her supper, only at intervals bending upon her father, eyes in the blue sky of which lurked a few clouds of disapprobation.

"I got on fine," continued the tanner, picking up the thread of conversation that had become entangled around little Viola's silver spoon; and perhaps taking his simile from her way of eating, he went on: "Everything is coming my way. We'll see better times from now on, I hope."

At this juncture, Minnie exclaiming, "Oh, I forgot! I'll get it this minute!"

sprang up with girlish impetuosity, The postman left a letter for brother.

The letter, when placed in the tanner's hand, looked innocent enough, yet unknown to them it was destined to change the tenor of their lives.

"Who is it from?" queried Rose Luther; and after the manner of women she took it from his hand and endeavored to identify it by the postmark or the handwriting, neither of which proved familiar.

"Perhaps," replied the husband, with twinkling eye, "we can tell by opening it," and he again possessed himself of the missive. A little pause and a rustling of paper followed, and then he announced, "McBernie,-now who is McBernie? Oh, I remember, the old

Scotchman who used to come to our meetings when I was a 'journeyman clergyman.' What can he want?"

The

"Perhaps," interjected Minnie, "you can tell by reading it." tanner joined in the laugh at his own expense, and then read aloud: "MENTONE, April 25, 19—.

"MY DEAR MR. LUTHER: "You may be a bit surprised to hear from me. You will remember that I called at the West End Church several times while yet you were its pastor, and once after, when Reverend Hubbard went to his cupboard, and bones were our portion that night. You will remember a little talk that we had the last time I met you. Ever since then I have nursed a project in my own head, and the time has come to christen it. I have kept track of you through a friend who is a merchant in your city, and I find that you have not made so sorry a failure as a laboring man, so perhaps you would feel no shame to go back to your calling as a preacher, because no one could say ye had to. I find, too, that you are somewhat connected with another church than the one that had no room in its creed for thought. Now, in this very community there are some members of the same church. Moreover, there is here a big church-building standing idle. The various denominations built a union church and started out in fine shape to teach peace on earth, and, lo; what happens but they all break up in a big fuss. There are no meetings for some time, yet all that is needed is some one to rally them. He would find some good sheep and some unruly goats, but more of the sheep, I'm thinking. The church is just in the edge of Mentone, and you could draw from both the town and the country. I live in the edge of town on a little farm, all by myself, which is bad for a Scotchman, of my age, who ought to be at the head of a clan. My youngest son is in college; the others are gone. My wife, who was too good for me, went over on the other side a year ago; and though I have not yet found the church that suits me, I am more than ever interested in laying up some treasure over there. Lad, I feel impressed to write. It is no salary we can promise; but one, at least, is hungering and thirsting to hear more of your kind of preaching. Is there now any hope at all that you could move down here? The country air would be fine for your children and the lady. "Your servant, "WILLIAM MCBERNIE."

Minnie sat with both elbows on the table, her chin in her hands, attentively regarding her brother. Rose Luther also studied his face, but he folded the letter and put it in his pocket without remark.

The matter was not again mentioned until the evening prayer, and after that the tanner and his wife talked of it far into the night. Two weeks later McBernie received his reply.

"P

"MY DEAR MR. MCBERNIE:

-, May 11, 19-.

"Your letter was received some two weeks ago. I have given it a careful reading and prayerful consideration. It came to me with

a strange appeal, and I could not put it aside lightly, if I would. It may be that I will fall in with your plan, surprising as it now seems to me. I have worked at my trade for nearly two years, and I am doing well. I have been foreman of my department for some time and command excellent wages; yet I am not satisfied with mere financial advancement. I feel that God has a work for me to do, and it may be that he is leading me your way. I am nominally connected with a church that claims to be the church of Christ. Its teachings seem to be more nearly in harmony with the teachings of Christ than those of any other church. Yet I am not fully satisfied that I have found or can find the church that in teaching and organization is in complete harmony with the New Testament church. If I do find one, I shall sever my connection with all others instantly. My mind is led to a favorable contemplation of your plan by reason of a peculiar dream that I have had repeated three nights in succession. I dreamed that I came to a little village or city, and that you met me. Presently we went to work to build a large building, of material that we found there ready to our hands. We had it nearly erected, and were quite proud of it, when one appeared on the scene who claimed to be an expert builder. Under his instructions we tore the former building down. We selected some of the material and rejected some of it, and with the material that we had saved, together with new material, we constructed a new building, smaller, but more beautiful than the former. Now I know that people who attach importance to dreams are regarded as superstitious. Yet God spoke to Joseph, regarding the designs of Herod, in a dream; he spoke to Joseph of Egypt, Nebuchadnezzar, and many others in dreams. Does he do so in these days? I know that he does. Moreover, the Scriptures bear me out in such a thought. You will hear from me again.

"Your obedient servant,

"SIDNEY LUTHER."

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

THE CONQUEST OF MENTONE.

When Sidney Luther and family alighted from the westbound express at Mentone, the first snowflakes of the winter were softly filtering earthward. Not much of their future field of operation was open to scrutiny. Several loungers were assisting the depot to stand erect and defiling the white robe of earth with extract of horseshoe plug.

A board walk leading townward, melted into misty nothingness, and presently out of the grayness whither it tended, McBernie materialized, as though new created by the fabled scientific "fortuitous concourse of atoms."

The little group trudged away, McBernie leading, followed by Sidney Luther, carrying little Viola, not quite so little now; then came Rose Luther, and next, Arthur, subdued and "close herded" by