Mrs. Cheevers resumed her tatting with the same preocciipie 1
aloofness that had so puzzled the women that afternoon.
"For pity sake explain yourself, Harriet," Mrs. Jones urged
impatiently. "It doesn't sound quite sane."
"It isn't anything much," Mrs. Cheevers explained modestly,
"And perhaps you won't be interested. I've been reading this
week about a woman fifty years old who started in to get a col-
lege education after her children were all reared."
"Did she get it?" Mrs. Jones probed.
"She got it." Mrs. Cheevers declared triumphantly, "And she
earned the money to pay for it right out of her vegetable and
flower garden, and bv making crocheted and knitted shawds and
IV HEX DREAMS COME TRUE. 73
bootees and lace. She got all the college extensicin work she
could, and finally they put her in charge of some experiments.
And now she is one of the most successful women in the coun-
''I don't see what that has to do with you. Mrs. Jones sniffed,
still trying- to dig- a little deeper into the mastery.
"It has just this to do with me," Mrs. Cheevers replie 1. "It
set me thinking-. ( )ur doctrine is the doctrine of Eternal Progres-
sion. And here I have perhaps twenty-five more years in which to
progress right here on earth. And I've been sitting aroun 1 think-
ing of nothing- but my aches and pains, and waiting for death
when I might have been growing and developing and improving
"Tell us more about this woman," Mrs. I'riest begged.
"There isn't much more to tell,'' Mrs. Cheevers went on.
"She's fond of games."
"I don't see how they will improve her much," Mrs. Jones
"That is just where I am going to begin to improve," Mrs.
Cheevers laughed. "I never did have enough fun. It seems
like we were young such a short time, and ol 1 such a long time.
And then we married so much younger than folks do now-a-
days. While the children were with me I often longed to go out
and play with them but there was always something to be done.
I can see now that I would have been a better mother if I had
joined in their pla}^ as they often coaxed me to do. I'd have
loosened up some of the laughter that lay under the crust of seri-
ousness that covered up my smiles and light-heartedness. Why
games and dancing were the very things that saved the sanity of
the pioneers, amid all their hardships. Laug"hter helped to lighten
their load ; laughter and prayers and songs of thanksgiving, of
A hush had fallen over the group and Mrs. Cheevers resumed
her tatting. But she was too full of the achievements of this
other mature woman and her own plans and rene\\ e:l ambitions to
keep silent long till she had shared it all with her friends.
"There is another thing I am going to do. You know how
interesting our studies on Utah artists and their works have
been? Well, I'm going to follow these studies wuth the life and
works of all the leading artists of the world. If I'd had one speck
of talent or opportunity I believe I'd have tried to paint when I
was a girl. But I am not going to give up now till I know all
about the finest paintings and the lives and methods of the paint-
Mrs. Morgan looked up as if a sulden ins|Mration had come
to her. She changed her mind, and did not si)eak but her thou.^-hts
were of a certain organ, silent since the children had married,
74 RELIEF SOCIETY MAGAZINE.
that might help her to reahze her dreams. She had always yearned
to play. "And I am going to begin to learn now," she told herself
"I believe God gives us these last long, leisurely years so
we can fulfill some of the many desires crowded out of the care-
free time of youth, and the crowded period of niiddle life. This
is our chance to make our dreams come true."
"I believe you are right, Harriet," Mrs. Jones sighed, under
the spell of the early dreams now long forgotten. "Still none of it
explains why you are 'all dolled up,' as my grandchildren say."
"It is the influence of this eager woman again," Mrs. Cheevers
lau-^-hed. "She said that the first thing she set about to do after
she had made up her mind that she had something to do, even if
the children were all married and gone, was to make her body as
happy, healthy, clean and attractive as possible and her personal
appearance as dainty and neat as she could. She says that care
and pride in one's person, especially when one is getting along
in years, is evidence of a high order of self-respect, and helps one
to keep young and attractive. She calls it well-groomed."
"Groomed," Mrs. Jones sniffed. "Groomed ! Is she a mare
or a woman?"
Mrs. Cheevers bit her lip. She realized that she had roused
Mrs. Jones, who always took umbrage at remarks on neatness
whether they were meant for her or not.
Mrs. Jones sniffed again, and glanced down at her apron,
which was. to say the least, slightly soiled. She had explained
that it was wash-day as she came in. Besides, it was one of her
proudest boasts that she had made no difference in her habits
since her son had become Mayor. Still she would have given con-
siderable, then, to have slipped the apron into her sewing-bag un-
observed. And for any notice that would have been taken of
the act. she might have done so. Each woman was busy with a
personal inventory of herself and her apparel, that left her, for
the moment, unaware of any flaws in her sisters.
On the other side of Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Lochart sat gazing
absently into space. A glimpse into her thought- factory would
have elicited the information that her shoe-laces were broken in
several places, and tied together in knots, more or less neat, with
frayed edges showing. Mrs. Lochart was remembering also
that her shoes had not been blacked for some time. In fact, the
more she thought of it the more convinced she became that her
shoes had not been blacked since she bought theni. She drew her
feet further imder her skirts, and hoped that her action had been
unobtrusive. She would not have liked Mrs. Morgan to wonder
Mrs. Morgan would not have wondered, for reasons already
suggested. Mrs. Morgan had taken advantage of the long silence
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 75
and averted eyes to take a peep at her nails. Her worst fears
were confirmed, and' she slipped her hands under the shawl she
had been knitting. A dried rim of dough was visible at the base
of each nail. She had not gone over her nails after putting the
bread into loaves, but merely washed and dried her hands and
hastened to the sewing circle.
Mrs. Priest was occupied with curling her finger tips into the
palm of her hand to hide the ragged tips of her gloves. She en-
joyed w^orking in the garden, and often forgot to wear heavy
gloves while about such work. Conscious of the conrlition of her
hands, she had brought no sewing and kept her gloves on. Her
one thought now was whether Mrs. Alton had noticed the holes
in her gloves.
She need not have concerned herself. A frayed petticoat,
whose flounce was secured with a safety-pin, was occupying Mrs.
Alton's mind to the exclusion of everything else.
Leave-takings were rather hasty, for reasons connected with
the inner processes of each woman's mind.
"You meet with me next time," Mrs. Cheevers reminded
Unconsciously each woman glanced at Mrs. Cheever's nails,
as her fingers slid in and out putting her tatting into her sewing-
bag and slipping the ribbons over her wrist. The nails were pink-
tipped and perfectly manicured. They had never differed so es-
sentially from the other woman's before.
"I suppose Harriet is getting ready to emulatee this perfect
type of mature woman," Mrs. Jones told herself, as she ap-
proached Mrs. Cheevers' for the next meeting. "If it were not
for giving the impression that I'm ashamed of myself I'd not go
today. Perfectly 'Groomed'," she exhumed; for the word had
been literally burned in her heart the entire week. It was a relief
to expel it.
Nevertheless she continued on her way with the comfortable
assurance that no one could pick any flaws with her attire. She
had made several concessions which she secretly hoped would pass
unnoticed. The extra brushing she had given her hair as well as
the curl which she found becoming to her forehearl might attract
attention. Yet she let it stay.
Arriving at Mrs. Cheevers' from various directions, an aston-
ishei-1 group of women stood stone still for there on the spacious
lawn, a glow on her cheeks, laughter on her lips, industriously
batting at an elusive ball sported their hostess.
"Why Harriet Cheevers," Mrs. Jones exploded. "You'll run
yourself to death. You aren't a girl any more."
Mrs. Cheevers came up breathless and radiant to receive her
"I sent for my niece to come and teach me to plav tennis."
76 KLiLlEl' SOCIETY MAGAZINE.
she explained, "and 1 thought we might as well have a game
while you were coming."
"You'll pay for this tomorrow," Mrs. Priest croaked envi-
ously, "You'll probahly be laid up all day."
"Oh, we've been at it for a week," Mrs. Cheevers laughed.
"I did feel pretty lame at first. But I'm standing it all right now.
Do you mind if we have some more games this afternoon? I
found a set of dominoes, an old checker-board and a deck of
flinch up in the attic."
Nobody minded and many a merry laugh startled lips that
had forgotten the flavor of smiles. Long after dusk the guests
left for their homes. Each seemed absorbed in highly interesting
plans. It was a very purposeful group of women that went to
their beds that night, as eager for dawn to come, that they might
put their plans into efl:'ect, as they had been as children.
Mrs. Cheevers had set them thinking. And they could see
that they had each cherished some desire of achievement, and now
they meant to work to attain it instead of regretting that they had
never had the opportunity. And in seeking it they began to realize
that there would come into their lives, instead of a long, cheerless
fall hastened too soon, prolonged too wearily, a rich, warm Indian
Summer, lasting and lingering and breaking into a sweet, peace-
ful winter. Several croquet sets and other discarded games were
brought down from sundry attics that week. Women who had
long since been too old to play, loosened their crippled joints and
forgot their pain in the excitement of old games.
"If Harriet Cheevers can learn to play tennis at her age, I'm
not too old to play croquet," Mrs. Lochart remarked, and the
others were of the same mind.
"If Betty Morgan is not too old to study music, and can
earn the money to pay for her lessons," Maggie Priest told her-
self, "I guess I can study history and buy my own books. I've
always wanted to ever since my Frank used to rehearse his les-
sons to me. If my back yard won't yield enough garden sage to
supply the butchers and grocers, so they won't have to ship in
any more of that tasteless stuff they've been handling, I want
to know the reason why. It's too late for asters but the florist
says he gets quantities every fall, and he will buy all the tulips,
and hyacinths and daffodils I can raise in the spring. So I
guess I can buy all the books I shall need."
"Hortense Alton has sold a piece of her lot," Mrs. Jones
called over to Betty Morgan one day. "Tom Gunnell has been
trying to buy it for years and at last she has cut it loose. She is
going to take the money and go to California for a trip, this win-
ter. She is as gay as a girl at the prospects. And here she has
been getting ready to die for the last ten years !"
lyHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 77
Two weeks skipped by, and the mayor of North Hammond
happened in to see his mother. He found her in a white apron,
as white as her freshly washed hair. She was sewing crocheted
lace on a night-gown.
'Who is going to get married now," he laughed as his de-
lighted eyes noted the change in his mother's apparel. "Who is
the happy bride?"
"I am," she retorted, transfixing him with a gay laugh.
"Mother," he gasped, "then who is the happy groom?"
"Old Age, Tom, just Old Age. I've always been afraid
of him, and run from him. But he has been tramping on my
heels so long that at last I've turned around to embrace him. I
believe Harriet Cheevers is right. She says Old Age is the
dearest friend we have, if we only use wisely the leisure he grants
us. She says he gives us the chance to make all our dreams come
true. You see in youth we are so set on getting married that we
only dream about what we should like to do some day. In mid-
dle life we can't find time. That is why Old Age is so generous
with time. He gives us the opportunity to do all we once thought
we wished to do."
The mayor of North Hammond looked at his mother through
a mist that did not often veil his eyes. He felt as if he had met
her for the first time and was scarcely worthy of an acquaintance.
In fact, his feeling was even holier than that. It was as if he had
bolted into a scantuary and ought to be down on his knees before
this mother whom he had once wished would take a little pride in
herself. He felt guilty and conscience-smitten at the recollection.
"I've never cared for travel like Hortense Alton does.- I
haven't a bit of talent for music. History bores me to death. But
I've got to find some interest in life, so I can grow young like the
others are. I've thought it all out, and I've come to the conclusion
that the thing I'm most deficient in is just plain house-keeping.
And I guess I've got as good a right to 'doll myself up' as
Harriet Cheevers has. If I'm going to marry Old Age and live
with him for a good many years, I'm going to dress to please him,
and keep house to please him. I'll have to be a lot more careful
and particular than I used to be when I was younger and more
Mrs. Jones had not dared to confess her housekeeping limita-
tions to her friends. It was a relief to have her son to confide in.
"Come here, Tom," Mrs. Jones lead the way into her little
pantry. "See those shelves."
Mayor Jones looked at the shelves and pantry, all newly
painted white. He remembered when, as a boy, he brought a friend
in for a spread and longed to turn the hose loose on those same
shelves and make them more inviting.
78 RELIEF SOCIETY MAGAZINE.
Then she led the way into the bed-room and pulled out the
dresser drawers. "Look at those drawers," and she pointed with
pride at the neat piles of freshly ironed Hnen.
Again Mayor Jones' memory led him backward. He was a
boy again, and rumaging in those same drawers in which an end
of almost anything might be seen sticking up as one opened the
"You are a wonder, Mother," he exclaimed proudly, as he
folded her in his arms. "Some women at your age would be
moping around complaining of their aches and pains, and expect-
ing somebody to wait on them and be sorry when they died."
It was Mrs. Jones' turn to be uncomfortable.
"That is precisely what I was doing, boy, a few weeks ago,
when something pricked my pride and got me started right. It
was that word 'groomed' that Harriet Cheevers used, I believe.
It kind of got under my feathers at first. People used to have
so much to say about my bad house-keeping, and untidy dress,
that I just naturally flared up when anything was said on the
subject. It used to bother me considerably; but it seemed as
if I hadn't the knack, so I quit trying and pretended I didn't care,
just to defy them."
Mayor Jones suppressed a smile at this revelation of the in-
ternal workings behind the external expression with which he was
only too familiar.
"That word 'groomed' was as annoying as a fly walking over
my upper lip. It fretted me until I gradually became unaware of
its existence. About that time it occurred to me how delightfully
fresh and frisky a horse must feel after it is well curried and
brushed. I suppose I used to be like the over-worked plough
horse whose master couldn't take time to brush and curry it and
pick the burrs out of its mane. Now I can't help wishing they
could invent some way to brush a horse's teeth so its mouth could
feel cool and refreshed as mine does after the tooth-duty I once
couldn't find time for. I could never believe the glow of pride
that goes over one when we begin and close the day well-
groomed. It is easier to pray and the prayer seems more efifec-
tive, if we have made the flesh more fitting for the spirit."
The mayor of North Hammond turned his eyes from the
vision of this new mother, once so self-sufficient, now so appealing
in her wistful humility.
"So the little mother is indulging herself in a perfect orgy
of house-keeping, and 'dolling herself up'." He pressed her hand
to divert her thoughts from the catch in his voice that would come
at sight of the mother of sixty years satisfying her suppressed
"Why it is as exciting as a game," she laughed. "Every
ambitions while yet life lasted.
PyHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. 79
day I find some new way to be more particular and efficient, and
it is real fun. If only — " and there was a catch in the mother's
voice as she controlled herself and went on, "if only your father
were here. I can see now that he wanted to be proud of me in
every way. Well, maybe I'll have a chance, on the other side, to
show him the improvement I've made since he left me here."
Mayor Jones folded his mother in his arms again. Her
thoughts were precisely what his had been. It was a solemn
moment for both. The next day a box of roses came for Mrs.
Jones with the compliments of her son and the wish that time
and strength might be hers to make every dream come true.
There was also a substantial check with the suggestion that she
take some friend, widowed like herself, to a temple city where
both could enjoy some spiritual work.
Meanwhile five other mature women, grown suddenly young,
were finding it "real fun" to break their own records and realize
dreams. A new zest brightened the meetings of The Relief So-
ciety and sewing circle of North Hammond. Aches and pains
were far off and forgotten themes. History, music, travel, art.
new recipes, new patterns for bootees and shawls, pin-money
methods and markets, were absorbing themes. And, side by
side with thoughts of the hereafter, strode tha thought to prepare
more worthily here.
By Lucy May Green.
In thy service. Heavenly Father, we thy children meet today.
Bless us with Thy Holy Spirit, aid us in our work, we pray.
We are thankful for thy gospel, for thy blessed truth and love.
May we ever be found faithful, never from thy pathway rove.
Purify our hearts, our Father, as we promise unto thee
All our life, our time, and talents, until death shall set us free
May our lives be pure and holy ; may we never go astray ;
Ever strive to do our duty, walking in the narrow way,
Until life on earth is over. Faithful to the end may we
Dwell with thee in heavenly mansions, throughout all eternity.
(This happened in March, 1897; it was written at the time it
occurred, and was a wonderful experience and testimony.)
By Lucy May Green.
Evening- on the Atlantic ocean. Calm and peaceful were the
skies which were ilhuninated -by the glorious rays of the setting
sun. The wind had ceased blowing and the waves, which had
been rising mountain high, how now sunk to a peaceful calm. The
passengers of the steamship Circassia were strolling the deck, or
sitting in groups in their deck-chairs. Some were discussing the
progress the ship had made during the afternoon, and were eagerly
counting the days that must elapse 'ere they could reach their
distant homes, far away in the West.
Others were admiring the glorious cloud picture, as the
golden sun sank lower and lower on the horizon, illuminating the
waves until they sparkled like glowing diamonds. Among the
passengers were several who, for the Gospel's sake, had long been
separated from home and loved ones, and their hearts beat high,
as they thought of the loving welcome that awaited them at home.
Each dull thump of the engine was heard with gladness, as each
forward bound of the vessel brought them nearer home.
Others were there whose hearts were sad yet full of courage ;
these had left father and mother and home and friends to gather
to the Zion of God, and they too were looking forward with joy
to the speedy fulfilment of their long-cherished desire to gather
with the Saints in Zion.
Suddenly there came a crash which shook the vessel from
stern to stern. In a moment all was confusion and people rushed
to and fro in wild excitement.
In a few words the captain explained the gravity of the situa-
tion. The shaft of the engine had broken and the ship would
float at the mercy of the winds and waves until the damage
could be repaired. It was a trying moment for all. The wind
had again risen, the sea had become greatly troubled, and a heavy
storm was threatening.
In the meantime, some of the passengers, those few humble
servants of the Lord had gathered in one of the lower cabins in
earnest prayer that God in His mighty power would preserve them
from danger, and then by the power of the priesthood and in the
name of Israel's God, the winds and waves were rebuked. "And
suddenly there was a great calm." Into the hearts of these faith-
A TESTIMONY. 81
fill ones came stealing the sustaining influence of the Spirit of
God. The promises that had been sealed on their heads prior to
their departure from home came to their remembrances, that
they would reach home in safety. A quiet, peaceful night was
passed and in the morning the sea was calm and smooth with
scarcely a ripple on the waves. This continued for three days
and the engine again began to work and in due time the ship
reached her desired haven. Some thought a miracle had been
wrought and who shall deny it? Israel's God still lives. He who
of old calmed the waves with His gentle "Peace be still, and he
acknowledges the administrations of His authorized servants and
still moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform."
Let us be encouraged by this manifestation of His power and
know that there is no difficulty so great but with His help we can
overcome it, and if the way is ever so dark, and everything seems
against us. if we exert great faith in the Lord, stand firm in the
testimony of Jesus, and keep His commandments. He will guide
us safely through the voyage of life, through storms and sunshine
until we land safely on the heavenly shore, our dearest haven.
By Edith McClendon.
Help me, dear Lord, to ever pray
For light to guide my way,
For wisdom pure that I might see
The path that leads to thee.
Help me, each day, to stronger grow.
Thy children's needs to see,
That I may help some weaker soul
In safety back to thee.
For with thy help all tasks seem light,
Our path with flowers are strewn,
Without it, all is very dark.
And we are left in gloom.
Ofttimes the world seems sad and dark,
And trials hard to bear.
Oh ! help us, then, to seek for light
In true and earnest prayer.
My Testimony Concerning Temple
By Lerona A. Wilson.
Last fall the Lord, in his tender mercy, touched me and
brought me near to death's door. By the power of faith and
fervent prayer, my life was preserved, and after a severe case of
blood poisoning, I still retain my precious right hand. When I
became humble enough and prayerful enough, so that I could
exercise faith, I had what was to me a remarkable experience ; and
I want to testify of what I saw and heard.
When my life seemed to be hanging in the balance, and I was
suffering pain and distress, lying upon my bed at midday, I was
praying most fervently for deliverance, with all the faith I coul 1
exercise. My room suddenly became lighted brightly with a soft,
white light, then a number of my deceased relatives came into my
room. My father came first, then my mother, my sister and her
son's wife and two doctors, who were among our ancestors for
whom we had done ordinance work in the temple. All stood
around my bed, and father addressed me, saying: "You seem to
be in distress."
I answered that I was, and did not know how I could endure
it much longer.
Father was dressed in a uniform such as he wore as an officer
of the Nauvoo Legion, in the early history of the Church. Many
still remember Major Monroe, when he lived in Ogden and took
part in the Echo Canyon campaign and in Indian troubles.
Continuing he said : "I have come to talk to you about
doing the temple work for our dead ancestors."
At that point I caught the eye of my nephew's wife, whose
death was the most recent, and who left four very young boys,
one an infant, and to whose death I could hardly become re-