tionate letter, told them not to write to her again until they heard from her, and mailed the letters herself when she could do so unobserved. ner. " the man he supposed to be the editor, recognizing him, but scarcely able to believe the evidence of his eyes. "Good morning, Mr. Lawson, I see you remember me," Dager said sarcastically, handing his visitor a chair. Mr. Lawson, scarcely able to prevent himself from seizing Dager by the throat, dropped into the chair, and fairly quivering with rage, handed the paper with the offending article folded uppermost, said in a voice of wrath, What was his surprise, anger and disgust to find in the "Anti-Boom organ the day following their removal to Rose cottage, a full account of his treatment of the man who had worked for him; and some scattering remarks on the honor of such business men, and the inevitable results arising from treating human beings in such a manThe article wound up by saying that it was not surprising that such "business men were obliged to hire Dager languidly took the paper and night-guards to watch their places of carelessly glanced the designated business; but that they were not afraid article over, and said, "This is not the to sleep in their beds at night was a article you refer to, is it? I fail to marvel. That they could expect noth- | find your name in it anywhere," and ing else than that some man, so outhanded the paper back with an amused raged, would in his madness take resmile. venge where he could not get justice." Mr. Lawson read the article twice, and swore until he was obliged to pause for breath. Jamming his hat down on his head he took the offending paper and sought the printing office, determined on revenge. His knock nearly frightened Dick Sawyer out of his wits; and to the question, "Is the editor in?" he pointed to the door of the editorial room and vanished. Now it transpired that after Dager Blank had filled the place made vacant by the illness of the foreman, and Mary Gray's absence, Mr. Farce who liked him was rather glad to have him about, had set him to work on the books, during his leisure hours; and it happened at the time of Mr. Lawson's entrance into the editorial room, that Dager Blank was the sole occupant. For a moment he stood glaring at "I suppose you are responsible for this disgraceful article about me ?" Not till then had Mr. Lawson noted the fact that his name did not appear, and that he had placed his neck under the heel of his enemy, while Dager enjoyed his discomfiture to the utmost. (TO BE CONTINUED.) MAMMA'S TREASURE. RUBY LAMONT. DARLING little baby, lying on my breast, "Come?" Blessed little sweetheart, open those bright eyes, Filled with love and sunshine and a mute sur- Look at mamma darling, speak to her and say, Mamma loves her baby-how much, who can tell? "Bud" can never guess it, never know how well! Kiss me now, you prattler! What shall mam ma do When so strongly tempted to kiss-and eat you too? Oh, you laughing treasure! You laugh at all I say, Laugh and cry and prattle all the livelong day; Pulling papa's whiskers, scratching mamma's face, Snatching all things handy with angelic grace! Words are weak, my darling, my heart lies buried still Words and smiles and kisses can't tell you all I feel, Tears of love will oft-times fall upon your head, Still, its depths unsounded, e'er must be unread. Heav'n protect my baby, keep him safe from harm, Show'r upon him blessings, guard him from the storm, Shield his spirit always from a darkened fate, Till he may re-enter heaven's sunlit gate. Holy Father hear me! Thou whose accents mild Tell of joy in heaven, guard my little child; Give him strength to triumph o'er the foes of fate, How often the same subject has been so descanted upon in my hearing without creating other impression than a quiet matter-of-course agreement, I cannot tell. In my own essay days I have, no doubt, waxed eloquent on the pernicious habit; but today it reached my understanding through another channel, because since I last heard the subject mentioned I have learned something, and it is worth telling to you, and may in some similar case help you also to be charitable, forgiving and helpful. In a general way, I agree still that gossiping is one of the most inexcusable of vices, giving benefit to no person, but being a sure canker to the happiness of even the one who possesses and practices it. It can blast the friendship of years, separate those who love each other, destroy the faith of the married, and cause more trouble in a family than death; so do not construe anything into a palliation or even a toleration of this vice, that may be said in this story. Night was just closing in one raw, gusty evening, and as I was alone, for once I was just preparing to have a real good time. A bright fire burned in the open grate, the lamp was lit, the easy chair, so low that I did not need a footstool, was drawn up to an angle, where the light would fall on the printed page of a new book that was full, of the best of new ideas from cover to cover. But the old remark about "mice and men," was verified with regard to my plans for the evening. and my hair down my back, when Hardly had I got my wrapper on there was a hurried trampling of feet, some confused conversation, and a loud knock at the door. I opened it, and by the stream of light that shot outward, saw two men bearing the dead body of a woman; at least I thought she was dead, from the limp and inert look of the body, which they were supporting by means of a shawl. I recognized the persons at once as people from a settlement some miles away, who had once lived in the town where we then were. "Come in," I said, not waiting to hear about the accident that had made it necessary for them to seek shelter and claim the hospitality of those nearest the scene of the disaster. As they laid the woman between the sheets of the best bed in the house, I recognized her as the most incorrigible gossip I had ever known. She was not dead, but moaned faintly as they laid her down, and under the use of those simple and safe restoratives that were at hand came slowly back to consciousness. The doctor of the town had been sent for as well as the elders, and although he arrived first he did nothing for her until after they had done their duty and gone. I listened with breathless interest to what they said, and will confess that there was a shadow of disapproval in my heart because they commended her so warmly to the favor and mercy of God, and because they said her works in the Church and Kingdom of God did go before her, and the powers of darkness should not be able to cause her to suffer and inflict upon her great pain. All this was displeasing to me, for once this woman who lay here be fore me dying had slandered me. The bitterness of the anguish of those dreadful days when I was writhing under the terrible accusation had been so deep, that even perfect vindication and ten long years of winter snow and summer flowers had not quite buried the skeleton. Yes, she lay there dying, for I had also observed that they did not hold out to her one hope of life. After they were gone the doctor examined the poor bruised body, to find that the spine was injured, broken, in fact, and some other internal injuries made hope impossible. He addressed the men who were present to communicate as soon as possible with the members of her family, and told me, that while it was not possible for her to be moved, that she would have no need of a bed very long. The accident was only a runaway team, that was stopped by a post, throwing several persons out of the wagon. Mrs. Grayham, the injured woman, was holding the baby of a friend, and to save it, was obliged to receive the full force of the blow, with this disastrous result. No one else had been seriously hurt, and the dear little babe on Mrs. Grayham's lap escaped without a scratch. The dying woman had come to visit a friend, and with these acquaintances had started to return home. She was perfectly rational and free from pain, and when the men had assured her that her husband and children should be with her just as soon as horse flesh could cover the ground, she turned to me and began talking. First she asked me to sponge her face and comb her hair. Then she asked for a glass, and insisted on having the lace at her neck readjusted. All this I did, wondering how such trivial things could occupy the thoughts of one who stood on the brink of eternity. "Do you think they will get here in time?" she asked; when her toilet was arranged to her satisfaction. "Oh, yes," I answered, with the very natural, and I am inclined to think the very noble impulse of everybody to deceive the dying as to their real condition. Her large, clear eyes were turned upon me, and she really smiled. "Now you know you are not telling me the truth; you know that there is no certainty in your mind that I will live half of that time!" She paused in a meditative manner, and her eyes turned from my face and roamed restlessly about the room. "You need not be afraid to say just what you think, I am not afraid to die, you know; only just dread the plunge. It makes me shiver, like going into cold water makes the flesh creep. Isn't it a great blessing that my last girl was married last week, and that all the boys are reasonably prosperous in business and good Latter-day Saints?" The man who had been left to watch with me until her folks came was sitting in my chair, under the glow of the lamp, basking in the light of the fire, and reading the book I had thought to enjoy that evening. Several of the neighbor women had come in, but being entire strangers to Mrs. Grayham, they sat by the fire in a group and conversed in low tones. "A very great blessing," I answered, "and is no doubt a great comfort to you now." "There's Charles, I'm sorry for him. He is so used to having me about him, and he has never had very good health, and needs some one to take all little worrying cares off his mind. He can live with Harriet, of course, and she is a dear, good girl, and loves him dearly; but she will never be able to sweeten his oatmeal and make his bed just to suit him. Well, he is sixty-five next June, so in all probability he will not be long away from me." No selfish complaints, no murmuring against the decrees of Providence; only an anxiety about those she would leave behind, and a rejoicing over the fact that they were nearly all situated so they would not miss her much. From the hurt in her back her limbs were paralyzed and a curious flickering blue light was on her features that frightened me. "Somehow my mind goes back to the time when I was a little girl, and used to go to the silk factory astride my father's shoulder. I wasn't six years old when I learned to spin silk, and my! the heaps of rubbish they do spin in with the best of it! I learned to read," she said proudly, "and I never went to school a day in my life. I used to read the signs and the big lines in the newspapers, and then I got so that I could spell out a verse in the hymn book; but wasn't I proud?" "Why couldn't you go to school ?" I asked her, as she paused. "Mother had such a large family; I was the first of ten, and while iny father was a good tradesman and a good father, too," she said a little defiantly, "when he was sober, that was not much of the time after I could remember. It was all mother and I could both do to keep bread in the children's mouths, and there was no time for me to go to school." All this in a matter of course way, that showed how deep the spirit of self-sacrifice had been planted in her soul, and how early. "Many is the time I've cried, though, when father would buy a paper or book, and sit and read, and laugh and enjoy himself; while me and mother washed or sewed during the evening. Father had a pretty good education, and came of a family that knew a great deal about all sorts of history and astronomy and foreign travels. "I begged him to teach me to read," she continued, "and he told me that he could not conscientiously do it. He did not think a woman's mind capable of bearing the great strain. He had a sister who learned to read and went mad!'" She did not seem to realize what was so plain to me in this simple and dispassionate recital, the selfish, cruel deception, that shut the doors of light against her, and doomed her to a life of drudgery! "He said women wasted so much time daudling over books when they could read and neglected their children." "I guess it was true, but I was just like a mad thing for the stories he used to read. Sometimes he would tell me one, and I can remember them yet, every one of them, to the color of the hair of those he told about. When I would be going to the factory I'd think about those grand folks and their noble deeds, and wish that the chance would come some time for me to do something like that, but it never did. Father died when I was eighteen, and when he was buried, although for the last eight years of his life he had been drunk all the time, I was just as thankful as I am this minute that I'd always done my duty by him." She rolled her head restlessly on the pillow and asked the time. "They won't get here if they don't hurry," she said; "I feel the dumb feeling creeping up." I gave her the cordial that the doctor had left for her, and after a few moments she began where she left off with her story. "The other children had got old enough to help some now, and when I was twenty Charles and I were married." A beautiful expression of love came over her faded face; a face that had never been beautiful, and which it was hard now to believe even the bloom of youth could have made comely. "Then we joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. How thankful I have always been that my mother and Charles believed as I did, for it would have been a severe trial to have left either one of them behind me." As simple as a child, and just as unpretentiously she showed her deep faith and willingness to do the will of Him who sent the edict forth and lay her earthly all upon the altar. And this was the woman whom for ten long years I had in my soul despised! "We began saving our money, and when my first child was a year old we came to America. All the family came afterward. We crossed the plains with the hand-cart company, and Charles has never had any health since. Brigham Young told us that we 'should have our hearts' desire in righteousness in the kingdom of God for what we had suffered on that trip.' Every night, almost, I have reminded the Lord of the promise made to me through the mouth of His prophet, and asked that all my children should be |