another the number of members enrolled in the organization meeting and their names.

Ask another to find out if the six thus mentioned were the only ones who had received Joseph's testimony. Another could tell when and where the Aaronic Priesthood was conferred, and another could relate the giving or bestowal of the Melchizedek Priesthood. Be sure and instruct them as to the necessity of having the Melchizedek Priesthood before the Church of God could be fully established upon the earth. Then let one of the girls read the first part of Sec. 20, and after ask one of them to tell you as nearly as possible what the duties of elders, priests, teachers, and deacons and members of the Church are. Or, better still, let one tell of the duties of an elder, another of the duties of the priest, and so on until all are related. Go on then and add all the information you can to what has already been given. There is one word of warning in connection with these lessons that ought to be sounded continually, and that is to do just as little reading as possible, and as much talking. Encourage the girls to give their extracts in their own words, as that will implant it far more firmly on their minds, and will interest a thousand-fold more all those who listen. Avoid reading whenever possible is my advice, first, last and all the time. You might, if your girls are pretty well informed, take up the higher ordinations of

the Priesthood, the high priests, seventies and apostles, find out what their duties are and when they were organized. Also take up the several quorums of the priesthood and study out their duties and positions in the body of Christ. Take up the organization of the first Relief Society, and carefully quote the words of the Prophet in relation to the necessity of having the sisters organized. Then go on to the organization of the Y. L. M. I. A. and make as full a report of this as you can. Also take up the Primary and Sunday School. You will find this almost too much for one lesson, unless your girls are old enough to be pretty well acquainted with these facts. Explain to them the Stake organization, and the duties of a High Council. There is no subject so full of beauty and wonder as this same organization of the Church. Nowhere on this earth is there such perfect strength and simplicity of design as in this Church. Men of the highest ability have often remarked this, and many study. our methods in order to assist themselves. You who pay little attention to the organizations of other Churches can have small conception of the purity and beauty of this. It is worth while to take up the beliefs and forms of other creeds in order to more fully appreciate our own.

HE who will fight the devil with. his own weapon must not wonder if he finds him an over-match.

CLAUDIE'S CHRISTMAS.

MR. AND MRS. SAVAGE were sitting in their cosy dining room, over a late breakfast, one frosty Christmas morning some years ago, listening with an occasional smile to the children's enthusiastic recitals of what old Santa had left on his round the night before, and how nearly the various presents coincided with those pictured in their rose-colored dreams, when Bert, the baby, a droll, sturdy boy of four, who had been intently gazing out of the window for some time, as though greatly amused, said in his slow, lazy

fashion:

"Charley Whitmore is out by the barn on a sorrel horse; he acts like his feet were cold, and his nose and ears look pretty red. I have been watching him quite a while," he went on, looking at Claudie, his elder brother, with a little triumphant mischief in his big blue eyes.

They all laughed except Claudie, the oldest boy of the family, a lad of fourteen, who looked serious as he asked Bert quite sharply "why didn't you say so before?" Then added as he rose to go:

"Why do you want to keep a fellow waiting all day this freezing weather?"

"He won't freeze; he's too big," Bert answered, laughing heartily as he declared he was even

now.

Charely a few days before, not

wanting Bert's listening ears at a council he was holding with Claudie, had greatly injured Bert's pride by calling him a "baby," and then capping his assertion with, "Go in the house and tell your mother she wants you."

"I wish you would not encourage Charley's visits here, Claudie," said Mr. Savage, as his son rose to leave the room.

"Why, I don't see what you can have against the Whitmores. There isn't a nicer family in

town."

"It isn't the family I object to, it is the boy. He seems to be growing rather wild-somewhat too fond of running horses and using profane language," said Mr. Savage.

"I'm sure I never heard him use bad language. He always acts like a gentleman when he comes here," Claudie answered, blushing at his boldness in thus defending his friend in the face of his father's assertions. Mr. Savage was a kind, though very strict, parent, who always meant what he said.

"Nevertheless, I do not think him a proper companion for you,' added the father, "and I don't desire him to come here any more. Understand?" Claudie half nodded, and went out with an angry flush on his face. He thought his papa unusually harsh. How could he tell Charley, who was always so cordial and good-natured, to

stay away-and what for? Just because he had a pony that could beat everything in town, and maybe occasionally said. swear words.

"Hello, Claude!" said Charley

Whitmore, putting an end to all gloomy reflection by his bright bright smile. "I thought you were never coming. Bert has been making faces at me this half hour; guess he's aiming to 'even up' on that 'baby' racket."

"He just this minute told me you were here. By the way, it's a pretty cold old Christmas for no

"Yes, you would think so if you had been out as long as I have. Saddle your little grey and go with me up to Mark Fredrickson's to close the bargain on that black pacer."

"Don't mind if I do; but I mustn't be gone long, though. All the folks are going to have a kind of re-union today over a fat turkey, and a whole lot of other things," Claude said with a sort of half smile.

"Pshaw-that's no way for boys to spend Christmas, in the house. with a lot of old women and babies," Charley answered with a sneer as Claude vanished in the barn.

Meanwhile active preparations for the day's feast were going on in the big, roomy house, every one being busy with the work alloted to each. The boys shortly after rode away, and as they passed the house Claudie called to Mr. Savage, who was standing on

the front steps, "I'm going for a little ride, father." Mrs. Savage heard it, and quickly coming to the door said: "Don't stay long." "All right," was shouted over the crisp air as they galloped away.

"Where's Claude off to now, I wonder?" said Hettie, a girl of fifteen, and the oldest of the five.

"For a ride," Hugh, the ten year old, answered, as he deposited a bucket of coal in the sitting room.

"I think he might have taken his ride tomorrow; there is SO much to do this morning," she went on impatiently. "No telling when he will come back. Hugh, hurry up and make a fire in the parlor; it's getting late." Hettie took him playfully by the shoulders and pushed him through the hall into the kitchen.

"I have it all to do," he grumbled half in fun and half in earnest. "Claude off to look at race horses, and-"

"How do you know what he is off for?" Hettie asked, looking at him keenly.

"Oh, I heard them talking, and Hettie, what do you think?" his eyes growing larger with each word, and one hand raised to strike the other by way of emphasis, "Charley Whitmore had a bottle." Just then Mr. Savage came through the hall for his coal, and Hugh hustled out for fear there might be more work on hand.

Everything considered, they were an exceptionally happy, con

tented family, and on this especial Christmas morning their cheerful faces made the house, with its pretty decorations and warm fires, appear to even better advantage than usual. The pleasant hostess, with her charming cordiality, was its crowning feature, and a look at her could not fail to make good-natured the most crossgrained bachelor imaginable. The company soon began to arrive, and such a laughing, chattering, jolly crowd it would be hard to duplicate. Hettie exercised all her ingenuity on the dining room , and tables, obtaining the reward of a delightful result.

"Wonder where Charley Whitmore has taken Claudie?" Bert asked several times, feeling sorry for the three or four cousins of about Claudie's age, who were wandering aimlessly about, waiting for his arrival to begin their games.

As the dinner hour arrived and the absent son did not put in an appearance, Mrs. Savage began to look a little worried, and developed quite a taste for sitting near the most advantageous window. He was a general favorite, and every one there seemed to grow interested in the fact that he did not come to welcome them, attributing the delay to first one horror and then another in the way of accidents, until Mr. Savage, noticing how nervous his wife was getting under this steady fire of small shot, put an end to the topic by an assurance "that he was only getting an

appetite, and would in all probability be along shortly." Dinner at this juncture was announced, and the boy seemingly forgotten by the merry crowd who surrounded the well filled tables, and vied with each other in relating funny Christmas stories and giving reminiscences of years long past. Grandpa, usually so quiet, made the room ring with his hearty laughter and old time jokes. Turkey came and went, vegetables were served, plum pudding brought praise from all, mince pies, cake and fruit arrived in their proper season, and were duly enjoyed.

The repast was rapidly drawing to a close, and still no Claudie. Hettie's eyes would occasionally fill with tears as she saw the vacant place opposite her own, and little Zoe, his black-eyed sister, crept up to Mrs. Savage's chair several times with a whispered "Mamma, why don't Claudie come; the turkey will get cold?"

"Hush, darling; I don't know," the mother would answer softly, that the others might not hear. This was so unlike her obedient boy, this long absence, that she could not reasonably account for it. And on Christmas day, too. That complicated matters still more. The day had been talked of so long, and looked forward to with such eagerness by him that she could divine no cause but accident that would keep him from joining in the festivities.

"Well, I declare!" said grandpa,

as he espied the untouched plate, "Claudie seems likely to miss his Christmas dinner this year."

"I'm just afraid something has happened to the poor boy," grandma commenced, with alarm in her voice. "I dreamed last night about seeing him all covered with mud, such black stuff, too. You know that always means trouble of some sort with me. He's the best boy alive, and wouldn't stay away for nothing, am sure," continued grandma, who always had a sign for everything, and never failed to see the calamities that befell the family during "the long hours of slumber."

"I hear young Charley Whitmore is getting pretty reckless," said grandpa, as they were leaving the table. A general ejaculation of surprised "you don't say so's" greeted the information.

"Isn't he about Claudie's age?" he continued, turning to his daughter. Mrs. Savage nodded assent. She was afraid to speak lest the inward torrent of fears would ruffle the calm exterior she felt compelled to preserve.

"People can't talk so about our Claudie," said grandma, proudly. "He did my whole churning the other day-that old dasher get's heavier every time I lift it-and would have me sit in the rocking chair and watch him."

This encomium was received in high favor, being added to by words of praise from many of the others, until Mrs. Savage's face brightened perceptibly-for who

does. not like to hear of worthy actions done by those they love? The parlor was a scene of warmth, animation and mirth, and mirth, as the songs, music, and games enthused the guests until fast falling

shadows warned them to seek their own firesides. Ere long the family were alone, and according to long established custom, gathered round the cheerful grate for an hour's peep at the new Christmas books before the time for

evening prayers. But alas! all that was sadly changed tonight. The delightful books lay unopened. The newspaper was on Mr. Savage's knee unread. The wonderful cheerfulness of Mrs. Savage was replaced by a look of deep anxiety that plainly told of an aching heart. The children, even to little Bert, felt the general depression, and remained unusually quiet, eagerly listening to every sound that broke the calm stillness of the night in hopes 'twas the return of the tardy horseman. Hettie thought of the dainty silk dress, laid out that morning with all its charming accessories, ready for the Childrens' Grand Ball, to which she and Claudie had an invitation. Then as her eyes wandered to the stern, unrelaxing face of her father, the thought of the probable punishment in store for her pet brother, proved too much when added to the tense strain she was already under, and she hurriedly sought her own room, where, falling on her knees, and burying her face in a pillow, she sobbed.