do you do such a thing as this for?" "Ben Johnson insisted on my coming here, and I foolishly consented. How could I suppose it would make any difference to you?" with a proud toss of her head. "Ben insisted on your coming here? Woman, are you mad or am I? What is it? I think I am the victim of some bitter, practical joke." The girl made no reply, and sat as cold and still as the icicles hanging from the tree tops. "See here, Nellie, you must explain this thing. I don't understand it, and I am almost wild with pain. Have pity on me, and tell me what it means.' The girl thought he referred to his disappointment in finding herself there in place of the other Nell, whom he evidently expected, and she grew colder and prouder than ever. "There is nothing to explain; I want to be taken home, if you will be so kind; that is all, sir." But it was not all for Andrew. With almost a cowardly feeling at his heart, he said in low passionate tones: "Will you hate me if I tell you that I love you; oh don't speak. I know how mean and low it is for me to tell you this when I have got you here, helpless; but my heart is stronger than my reason for just this minute, and I must say this to you. You can forget it as soon as you wish. I want you to know, though, that the thought of you, next to that of my angel mother, has been my source of hope and joy. You know that we missionaries cannot permit ourselves to dream of home and long for friends, and I have been too much interested in my work to give many thoughts anywhere but in my work; but when the word came to me that I was released, then my heart flew home, and oh, Nellie, I cannot tell you with what longing I dwelt upon our first meeting and the words of welcome you would speak. Do not mind, now, I feel better, but you will let me speak just for tonight of this, and then I will bury it forever. I did not ask you to love me before I went away, for I knew it would not be right; but oh, Nellie, I surely thought you did, and that I should find you here on my return, and——" The girl was crying bitterly. "Don't cry, Nellie; I had no idea I would make you feel so sorry for my troubles; it is cowardly for me to speak of them; but Nellie, say say Nellie, would it be wrong for you to kiss me? Just once, just for old time's sake?" "Why should it be wrong?" whispered the girl. He had to force his horse to walk, for he could not hear the low tones. "Tell me what you said, dear, I could not hear." "Why is it wrong? What have you done or what have I done to make it wrong?" "Nellie, you make me wonder if one of us is not a little crazy. If I were a wicked man I should be tempted to take advantage of what seems even to me like encouragement, and I would take liberties with you that no one but an engaged lover has right to take. You must know what a kiss from your lips would mean to me—it makes me dizzy to think of it," and the young man drove his horse slowly along, trying to master himself, and to account for the strange actions of this girl he had always thought so pure and womanly. He was, as he said, fairly dizzy with emotions. "But Nellie, how is it?" "I am sure I don't know how it is that you have got Nellie and me so mixed up. Its Nell that's married to Ben, and didn't you know it? And did you think that I was a married? And was tha what caused you pain, my poor, poor dear?" (with the motherly softness that is always a part of some women). "You were under a terrible mistake sure. But you should call me Nell and her Nellie. I wondered why it was you kept calling me Nellie. always distinguished ourselves exactly the other way. It is because you have been away SO long you have forgotten. But you should not forget even SO small a thing as my name, dear.' "Nellie, do you mean to say that you would let me kiss you, and take all the responsibility of such an act upon yourself? What do you suppose Ben would say?" | "Ben! Ben who?" The strange, wild duplicity of this once lovely and truthful girl was appalling. With a sudden. heat of righteous anger he hissed out: "Ben Johnson, your husband, to whom you owe all the duty of a true wife." "Andrew, I think it is you that are crazy. I am not married, and Ben Johnson has no more to do with me than Ben Nobody." The words were not half out of Ther mouth, and certainly were but half comprehended by the man at her side, before he had his arms around her (goodness knows where the reins were), and upon her red lips he was raining kisses long and sweet. We "Sweetheart, there is only one Nellie, one Nell, indeed or one woman in the world for me just now, and that is, my Nell." heaven, with nothing intervening between the supplicant and the throne of God, above, the freedom of the heavens; beneath, around, the freedom of the plain and mountain. On the 23rd we crossed the line into Mexico. The road for the last two days has been splendid, and even, gradual ascent, and looking ahead has the appearance of leading up into the heavens. Our first camp on Mexican soil was in a very pretty, pleasant place. We met and passed the first guard at Palomas, where we secured and enjoyed a nice bath in a large pool fitted up for bathing and free travelers. Upon the whole our first impressions of Mexico are quite favorable and pleasant. Palomas is a fine site for a town. A pretty lake lies a short distance from the town, formed from a number of springs near by. This afternoon we passed another guard, who detained us so long we could only make a short drive, and camped on the Boca Grande River. limbs, and let their minds expand and drink in the beauties of nature and draw nearer to nature's God than they can do in the crowded, bustling cities. On the 25th we passed the town of Diaz and the much-dreaded custom houses, but we had no trouble there. Were treated in a very gentlemanly way by the officials, but had to wait until Monday for papers to be made. out and signed, so drove back to the river to camp. Sunday morning two or three of us walked back to Diaz and attended Sunday school, which we found in excellent condition. Met several old friends; stayed all night in Diaz, and returned to camp Monday morning just as they were rolling out. Were delayed by the papers not being ready, so we had to make a night drive, which is not very pleasant, as the weather is quite cold. 28th. A lovely morning and lovely mountain scenery. Passed the last guard house today at Coralitos; visited a Mexican weaving room and the store of an American company. 29th. We are told that today we will reach Juarez, so of course the imagination is busy and all eyes eager for the first sight. Passed through Casas Grandes, where a company of Mexican soldiers were stationed. It caused an pleasant feeling to come over me to see their flag waving in the breeze, and to know that it was to be ours, too, instead of the stars and stripes; and their uniform. un too, was strange, and a little in the distance gave them a ghostlike appearance. A little before sundown from the top of the long dugway we caught sight of the old settlement of our people, but the present Juarez was still hidden from view. We drove into the town after dark, so did not see much of it. Drove to my brother's home, where we received a warm welcome. Yet I hardly know whether I am glad or sorry our journey is ended, for I enjoy traveling very much, where the changing scenery is a continual feast, as it has been on this our journey from Mesa, Arizona, to Juarez, Mexico. JUAREZ. S. E. R. DAYS OF CHILDHOOD. O, for the loved familiar faces, For the dear companions gone from sight, O, for the home of youth and childhood, O, for a swim in the clear lakelet, For leisure to fish with hook and line! As erst of yore in days of childhood, Without a care of the coming time. O, for daily showers of sweetness, As they were once in the dear old home, When life was gay in its completeness, Yet scarcely heeded until flown! O, for the dear old kitchen garden, With its fragrance of flowers and herbs, Delicious with sweet spicy odors, A FALSE statement is going the rounds of the press to the effect that visitors will not be able to get any drinking water at the World's Fair without paying for it. There will be an abundance of excellent water free to all who want it. Those who wish to drink mineral spring water, piped to the Exposition grounds from Waukesha, Wis., a hundred miles distant, will have to pay one cent a glass for it. The free water will be that of Lake Michigan, brought by tunnel from a point four miles from shore, and much better than the inhabitants of most large cities are supplied with. THE World's Fair souvenir coins, some of them, it is now expected, will be issued in November, probably by the middle of the month. The Exposition authorities have offered quantities of them to banks throughout the country at the uniform rate of one dollar each, and it is believed that those institutions will be prompt to avail themselves of the opportunity to get a supply for their customers. Orders for them are already being sent in at the rate of $5000 to $10,000 a day. WHEN will evil-speakers refrain from evil-talking? When listeners refrain from evil-hearing. HOW I GAINED MY TESTIMONY OF THE TRUTH. BRIGHAM CITY, UTAH. Jan. 30th, 1893. Sister Susa Y. Gates: IN compliance with your request that I would furnish you a statement for the benefit of your young readers concerning the way and manner I received a testimony of the divine truth of this great work in which we are engaged, I will copy from my journal a portion of a letter written to family while I was incarcerated in the Utah Penitentiary: "UTAH PENITENTIARY, "To My Family: my "Monday, Sept. 20th, 1886, Marshal Dyer called at the Penitentiary, accompanied by Judge R. W. Morgan of Memphis, Tenn., and Col. W. H. Selden, of the Metropolitan Hotel, Washington, D. C. I was immediately called, and the marshal at once introduced me to the gentlemen. "Their fine intellectual features, genial manners, dignified deportment and commanding presence impressed me at once very favorably that they were no ordinary interviewers. "As it appears to be the practice to point me out to all visitors who secure passes to the Penitentiary as one of its principal curiosities on exhibition, therefore through my respect to Marshal Dyer, who treats me kindly, I endeavored to show myself to as good advantage as possible the under the peculiar circumstances; consequently in an easy and pleasant way I led my interviewers directly to the favorite, all-absorbing questions of hour, viz: What is Mormonism? Why am I a Mormon? and myself and brethren in the Penitentiary? The marshal remained a listener to our conversation. After a few moments spent in preliminary questions, Judge Morgan began as follows: "Mr. Snow,' said he hesitatingly, we do not wish to ask questions which would appear impertinent or delicate.' "Oh, not at all, gentlemen,' I said; ask any questions you see proper.' "'Well,' said the judge, if it is not an improper question, I wish to enquire how many wives, Mr. Snow, have you, and your number of children?' "I answered the questions in a truthful and candid manner; and after a few other questions relating to ing to my family he inquired. regarding the family of President Young. I stated that I was not fully posted, but he had, when living, quite a number of wives and a numerous family of children. After a few other questions and answers given, I turned the subject with the observation that my incarceration was purely on account of my religion; that myself and brethren here had espoused the same religion, the same gospel as the ancient saints |