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Economy of Time.

Lillie M. Bergen.*

"Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever."-Horace Mann.

One of the most important lessons to be learned in life is the art of economizing time. But we young people seldom take any notice of this lesson until we have squandered much of our time.

If we allow habits of indolence, listlessness, and procrastination to grow and become firmly fixed in our minds during our youth, the seed-time of our lives, when we become old we can not reap a fruitful harvest, because we have been idle. If we then try to shake off our bad habits, we will find they have become so firmly fixed that it will take years to rid ourselves of them.

It is true we very often recover things that have been lost. For example, lost wealth can be replaced by industry; lost knowledge, by study; lost health, by temperance and medical treatment; but lost time is gone forever.

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ple in our community who have done the most good for themselves and the public, whom would we find? Would they be those with an abundance of time and money, who have nothing to do but seek pleasure and spend money foolishly? No. They would be, with very few exceptions, the men who are not wealthy in worldly goods, and who are in almost ceaseless activity from January to December. They are also the ones who are always found willing and capable of doing a little more, and who can be relied upon, even in their busiest seasons, with ten times more assurance than the idle men.

We know that the more we do the more we are able to accomplish because doing increases one's powers. It is easier for the one who is always exerting himself to exert his powers a little more than for the person who does nothing to arouse himself to action. To test this give a busy man a task, and tell him to have it finished in a certain time, and it will be done. Then tell an idle person to do the same, and give him more time. Will it be ready? No; for he will most likely postpone it until tomorrow, next week, and probably next month.

The ones who do the greatest things do them not by fitful efforts, but by steady, unremitting toil, and by turning every minute into usefulness. For a little done this hour and a little the next hour, day by day, and year by year, brings much to pass.

Let us not complain, then, for the want of time in which to do anything, but rather thank God that we are not cursed with too much leisure, for it proves to be a curse nine times out of ten.

Let us consider a few of the leading men of our Church. The first and foremost is Joseph Smith. Study his life and you will find that he was always busy trying to do good. The same is true of his successors, Brigham Young, John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, Loren

zo Snow, and Joseph F. Smith. In reading of them we find that every moment was regarded as precious by them, and they were never so happy as when improving each.

Let us follow their example and strive to make use of every minute especially in our Mutual Improvement work. If each will do this we can soon make our respective wards second to none in Mutual work, and the Lord will reward us openly for it.

The Old Master of the Violin.

Gladys Stewart.

The fire light played with his snowy hair,
And brightened the features that once were fair;
As sadly he gazed at his fingers thin,

Thinking of youth and his violin.
Stepping softly across the floor,
He carelessly opened an inner door,
And vaguely smiling turned within,
And held in one hand his violin.

With a piece of chamois, he rubbed it bright,
Holding it up in the dim firelight;
Then slowly placing it under his chin,

He drew loved tones from his violin.

He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling bare,
And seemed to catch through the vibrant air,
The sound of a voice, distinct and sweet,

Out of the depths that were dark and deep.
With low and tender lingering stroke,
The spell-bound silence then he broke.
Tears stole softly down his cheek,

His fingers quivered, his hand was weak.
It trembled and fell on the mystic string,
And clear, though softly, his voice joined in.
Dreamily, borne on the April breeze,
And melting away in some briny seas,
His music thrilled him through and through,
And his once bright eyes now filled with dew.
Then sadly thinking of days gone by

He breathed through the cadence a stifled sigh,
And slowly-he ceased, his eyes grew dim,
And he laid down forever his violin.

Blanche Caine.

PUDDING SAUCES.

Various sauces may be served at different times with the same pudding, a new sauce often affording a pleasing change in the dessert.

Liquid Sauce with Variations.

Grate the rind of an orange or lemon and squeeze the juice over it. In a saucepan, mix 1 cup sugar with: 4 tablespoons flour or 2 tablespoons cornstarch. Pour in 1 pint boiling water, and cook from five to ten minutes till thick and nearly clear, stirring constantly. Add 2 tablespoons butter and the orange and strain.

This sauce will keep for several days and may be reheated.

The yolk of one or more eggs may be blended with the sauce just before straining, and the stiff whites folded in after. Other fruit juices may take the place of part of the liquid.

Vanilla may be used as the flavoring.

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the stake conference and the ward records at the ward conference.

SUGGESTIONS.

ON AWAKENING INTEREST.

One ward president, who had a number of girls that took no particular part or interest in the meetings formed a reception committee. She appointed four (it was a large association), choosing some girls of the kind mentioned and some who were active workers. They were appointed for one month, when another set was called.

It was their duty to be on hand early to stand at the door and make all who came welcome, indicating where it was desired they should sit. They were given instructions to care particularly for strangers, finding out if they were new comers to the ward, and if so offering to present their names for membership; or if they were representatives from Stake or General Boards or other organizations, giving the proper introduction to the presiding officers. The plan was very successful.

Resurgam.

Florence L. Lancaster.

Sweet, pale primroses in the woods
Gleam faint from yet unopened buds,-
Lo! the signal-stars of Spring!
Finches vibrant pipe their love,
Soft the echoes of the dove

Thro' the pines' dim vistas ring.

Roused from their dreamless sleeping,
Snake and lizard green are creeping
In wide wonders to rejoice!
Laving Winter's melting snows,
Full and clear the brooklet flows,
With low laughter-gurgling voice!
Strange, subtle incense of the ferns
Steals up till all my spirit yearns

For deep joys the soul may know.
Like a weeping Dryad's cry
Is my heart's regretful cry
For a love lost long ago.

Bright sunbeams lambent from above
Strike oaks of eld within the grove,

These with verdure fresh restore.

E'en a promise stirring nigh
Moulds the things that buried lie

To Life's scheme, renewed once more.

Then human soul, of breath divine,

Let thy expectant spirit shine

With Faith's light this holy day.

Let thy heart exultant sing!

Join each artless voice of spring

In a joyous Easter lay!

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