RECOLLECTIONS AWAKENED BY THE LATE SEMI-CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION.

BY HEBER J. GRANT.

During the recent celebration of the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of the entrance of the Pioneers into Salt Lake Valley, very many thoughts crowded themselves upon my mind, as I contrasted the difference between the Salt Lake Valley of that day and the Salt Lake Valley of today.

I was seated in one of the large show windows of the main store building of Zion's Co-operative Mercantile Institution, as the Semi-Centennial procession moved down Main Street, and I contrasted that immense structure in which I was seated with the one and two story adobe dwelling house which at one time stood upon that identical spot, and in which residence I first saw the light of day. The house was built by my father, who died when I was a babe of nine days, and I lived there until I was a little over six years old, when I moved with my mother to Second East Street, where I now reside.

Having virtually seen Main Street change from a village thoroughfare to a business avenue, I recalled the time when Zion's Savings Bank, a splendid building of five stories, was occupied by the home of the late Daniel H. Wells, and in my mind's eye I saw the high rock wall which separated the home of my childhood from that of "Squire Wells." Everybody familiarly called him "Squire Wells" in those days. Two more lovable or kinder men never lived than my childhood neighbors, President Daniel H. Wells on the north, and Bishop Edward Hunter on the south. Another kind friend was Jos. B. Elder, who recently died in the Fourteenth

Ward. He had a little frame grocery store and cooper shop which occupied the corner where now stands the Godbe-Pitts drug store. Many and many an hour have I spent as a child sitting in his store and chatting with him.

As I thought of the fine structure known as the "Hooper and Eldredge Block," I recalled the familiar home of the late Bishop Edward Hunter, which originally stood upon that ground, and scores of incidents and sayings of his which were amusing, interesting and instructive came to my mind, prominent among them being his oft repeated counsel, "Pay your tithing, brethren, and be blessed." Above all I recall his wonderful kindness to me in childhood days. I thought of the hundreds of times that I had crept through the pole fence which divided his home from ours, to play with his boys, and I also remember climbing very often the board fence south of his barn, to romp and play with one of the most beloved companions of my childhood, George Hooper, son of the late Capt. William H. Hooper, who was called to his eternal rest in his youth. Where George's home then stood, now stands the plain but substantial "Hooper Block."

As I looked across the street at the "Constitution Building," I remembered the time when the "Old Constitution Building" stood there, and as I gazed at the "Home Fire Building," I remembered the old "Globe Bakery" and barber shop adjoining, which occupied the site when I was but five or six years old.

In looking up the street at the Pioneer Monument in stone and bronze, I recalled many, many incidents in the life of Brigham Young, and one of them of my childhood days I will relate, as it illustrates what it is impossible to do in stone and bronze, viz: the love which filled Brigham Young's heart for his fellow men.

When I was about six years old, in the winter of 1862, the sleighing was very good and as I had no opportunity of cutter-riding in those days, none of our family possessing a sleigh or team, boy-like, I used quite frequently to run into the street, and "hang on behind" some of the outfits which passed our home, and after riding a block or two would jump off and run back.

On one of these occasions I got on the sleigh belonging to President Brigham Young, and as all who were acquainted with him know, he was very fond of a fine team, and was given to driving quite rapidly. I therefore found myself skimming along with such speed that I dared not jump off, and after riding some time I became very cold. President Young happening to notice me hanging on his sleigh immediately called out-"Brother Isaac, stop!" He then had his driver, Isaac Wilson, get out and pick me up and tuck me snugly under the robes on the front seat. President Young waited some time before saying anything to me, but finally he asked, "Are you warm?" and when I answered "yes," he inquired my name and where I lived. He then talked to me in the most kindly manner, told me how much he had loved my father and what a good man he was, and expressed the hope that I would be as good as my father. Our conversation ended in his inviting me to come up to his office some day and have a chat with him. This I very soon afterwards did, and from the day of this childhood acquaintance with President Young, I ever found in calling at his office or home, a most hearty welcome, and I learned not only to respect and venerate him, but to love him with an affection akin to that which I imagine I would have felt for my own father had I been permitted to know and return a father's love.

In nothing did Brigham Young shine more than in his love for children, and they repaid his love with love and confidence in him. The people of the world, who knew him not, with their prejudices against his system of religion, no doubt think he was unworthy of respect, but those who, like myself, have known and loved him since childhood, can testify of his goodness and of his love for his fellows, and to be able to do this is of greater moment than to join in any degree of praise that may be accorded him on the score of his great achievements.

It would take too much space for me to relate all the feelings and memories that crowded upon each other while sitting in the Z. C. M. I. window looking upon the SemiCentennial procession as it passed down East Temple Street, carrying with it the evidences of the peace, prosperity, pro

gress, and happiness of the present day; nor can I write all I thought and felt as I contemplated the trials of the Pioneers as recollection of them was awakened by the passing of one of their "reproduced trains;" and the float of the "Sea-Gulls," that brought up the remembrance of the mighty deliverance from starvation wrought out by these white-winged messengers of God destroying the crickets, which otherwise would have devoured the first crop of the Pioneers, and left them to perish of hunger in the wilderness.

This article is already long enough, but I can not close without saying that the grand celebration of Utah's SemiCentennial was worthy of Utah's Pioneers; an honor to those who managed it; and on the other hand, the Utah Pioneers were worthy of just such a magnificent celebration.

TEARS.

My little one, with sobs and cries of pain,

Flew straight to the sure shelter of my breast

Her haven from all earthly grief and woe.

I gently wiped the streaming tears away,
And kissed her flushing cheek and trembling lip:
And smoothed the tawny mass of tangled curls;
And crooned a lullaby into her ear;

And she was comforted.

She clasped her dimpled arms about my neck

And smiled and slept.

Years passed. Those selfsame feet, with languid tread,
Again sought shelter in the mother nest.

I clasp her wasted form close to my heart

Bowed now, alas! with care and aged with grief—
And smoothed the shining locks of silvered hair;
And freely mingled saddest tears with hers.

"O, these are woes," I cried, "a mother's love
"Can soothe with sympathy, but cannot heal.

"Look up, my darling child, and trust in him

"Who binds our broken hearts." Her sad brown eyes, Darkened so long with sorrows born of earth,

Cleared with a look of peace ineffable.

She clasped her thin, white arms about my neck

And smiled-and died.

SARAH E. PEARSON.

AMONG THE "MORMONS" WITHOUT PURSE

AND SCRIP.

BY ELDER JAMES E. HART, A LATELY RETURNED MISSIONARY FROM TENNESSEE.

Some two and a half years ago I was called to go on a mission to the Southern States, and responded cheerfully to that call. On arriving in Chattanooga I was assigned a field of labor in the mountainous regions of East Tennessee, on account of the delicate state of my health. There with other elders, all traveling without purse and scrip, I commenced my work of hunting for the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and warning the people of the judgments to come and that will overtake the wicked unless they repent of their sins.

The Lord was with us in our labors and travels, and softened the hearts of the people to feed, clothe, and give us money, and many received our testimony.

Early in the period of my missionary labors I became nearly blind, and some of my kind, sympathetic friends advised me to leave my mission, go home and save my eyesight. I was, moreover, brought to what appeared to be the very gate of death-by severe illness. I felt that I could live no longer unless God should interpose and save me; but in this extremity the Lord heard my prayer and honored the administration of his servant Elder F. M. Houston, who at that time was my traveling companion; for I was miraculously and almost instantly healed; and no trace was left of the terrible affliction that nearly took my life. Instead of weighing one hundred and sixty-five pounds, I soon weighed about two hundred.

This was realized without purse and scrip. Sometimes