ently cotton fabric, which twenty-five years ago was worn in the nursery by the author's contemporaries, under the agreeably Shemitic-sounding name of nankeen (and which he may say, fascinated by its clean look, no less than its cool and pleasant memory, he has often sought for in the shops of adult experience); thirdly, of a vest identical in material with the pantaloons; next, of an alpaca coat, whose pattern, though ecclesiastical, the ungodly call "shadbelly," but which, to unconverted ears, will be familiar as a "cutaway or "claw-hammer jacket." Certain persons may wonder why I do not call the upper garment a dress-coat at once; but the dress-coat varies, having no eternal principle about it, save the absence of front skirts. Its tails may be of any cut, but the exact curve of the apostolic skirts is expressed to any American mind, familiar with camp-meetings, by the term "shadbelly." The aperture of the nankeen vest is cut to a medium depth, and discloses a faultless frill of delicately hand-stitched linen, white as a snowflake fresh caught on the apostolic bosom. A narrow black stock, of silk, loosely holds the turn-down collar about a throbbing, manly throat; while, last of all exterior embellishments, a sugar-loaf hat, of the finest yellow Leghorn, puts the top finish on my statue of Heber Kimball. We were presented to him by the President's favorite son-in-law, Mr. Clawson.

"Travellers are ye, heh?" said Heber Kimball, after he had taken us in at the front of those alert little sparkling black eyes, and remanded us over to their tail for further consideration. "York?"

"Yes! What made you think so?"

"Don't know; kinder tell a man from York, allers. Came from there m'self. Didn't ye know that?"

"Indeed! Is that so?"

"Cer-tin! Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, 'n I, were all neighbors when we were boys. Lived right 'n the same school-deestrict, Ontario County. Our parents came there 'n settled when we weren't more 'n so high" (the apostle flattened his broad brown hand about three feet from the ground).

"I've spent months in Ontario County myself." "Where's that?"

"At Clifton, where they have the Water Cure." "Don't say? That's clos't' the Sulphur Springs! Tew be sure! I know where that is, perfectly. They used to have a ta-ar-vern there where the boys 'n gals went out a sleigh-ridin', 'n wound up with a dance. Ever out to the hill where Joseph Smith dug up the plates?"

No, I've often heard of the place, but never had a chance to go to it "—

"Yes, to be sure, that's in another direction. Well, I know all that country. Been in Canandaigua lots of times; used to be our market; there, in fact, we lived till they drove us out, when the persecution first began, ye know. We never had no fair chance there. But there the prophet of the Lord begun, and now—well, don't it seem a kinder cur'us?" (turning to the President's son-in-law) "when I think o' all the way the Lord's led us, it seems like a dream! There I was down in Lake City yesterday, and Provo the day afore, and Payson and Nephi the week afore that, and the Lord was with us, and we had big meetin's, and the brethren and sisters all came in from a-gettin' in the harvest, and the grain was all ripe for the sickle (turning again half unconsciously to the saintly son-in-law), and we had a blessed time! O, Brother

Brigham spoke with power. We must a had a thousand each time, and though it was a putty busy season with crops, the work o' the Lord was gay-lo-rious! Right into the midst o' my talk about the valleys and the mountains whereunto them as is blessed o' the Lord is all a-flowin' to be saved, I thought of that old Ontario County and the deestrict school, where we all sot together afore the Lord called Joseph-seemed 's if the old place stood right afore my face: wall, I suppose the old county ain't much changed; 'twas a kinder slow old neighborhood, anyhow."

"No, I don't suppose that many changes have taken place since you saw it last. It's still a quiet farming country. Nothing, except the town of Canandaigua, seems to keep it alive, unless it's the Sulphur Springs at Clifton, where there is a pretty steady flow of sick people as well as sulphur, the one coming to get cured by the other."

"That al'ays used to be a steady business. They reckoned it was good for the cattle before folks that had suthin' a matter o' them went there. The people that didn't like it said it biled right out o' hell. When the first trains were a-comin' over, before the Lord pitched our tents down here in the valley, we used to hear a good deal o' the same kind o' talk talked by the people. It used to seem kind o' familiar to me, and I said to 'em there was no use o' judgin' a matter before they heerd it, for I remembered those very Sulphur Springs of Ontario County; and here, right among the selfsame kind o' waters, springs the streams that is for the healing o' the nations. How long h'ye been here?"

"Only a couple of days."

Well, you must stay and get better acquainted.

Look around here! What d'ye think o' this? Some o' these women ha' only been here since the last train got in. There's 'similation! We work the material right in at once! There's every kind here; some o' them can't speak a word o' English."

Yes, so I hear. They seem very contented." "Contented? Yes. Their hearts are ready to leap for joy! These are they of whom it was spoken, ‘All flesh shall flow unto it and be saved!' You must go around among us. It's a wonder to all who will behold. Why, sixteen years ago this very plot we're standin' on was the barrenest sage brush you ever see. Now, lo and behold! the Lord is covering with his chosen all the face thereof, and the country round about. Where 'r ye stayin'?"

"At Townsend's."

"Good man, Brother Townsend. Does a smashing business. I'll come and see you.'

"We shall be very happy, I'm sure."

Thenceforth Heber took a vivid interest in our eternal welfare. He quite laid himself out for our conversion, coming to sit with us at breakfast in the black shadbelly, the nankeen vest and breeches, and the truncate cone of Leghorn, which made him look like an Italian mountebank physician of the seventeenth century.

I have heard men who could misquote Scripture to suit their purpose, and talk a long time without saying anything; but in both these particulars Heber Kimball so far surpassed the loftiest efforts within my previous experience, that I could think of no comparison for him but Jack Bunsby converted by Stiggins, and taken to exhorting. Witness a sample:

"Seven women shall take a hold o' one man! There!" (with a slap on the back of the nearest subject for regeneration.) "What d'ye think o' that? Shall! Shall take a hold on him! That don't mean they shan't, does it? No! God's word means what it says, and therefore means no otherwise-not in no way, shape, nor manner. Not in no Way, for He saith, I am the way, and the truth, and the life.' Not in no shape, for a man beholdeth his nat'r'l shape in a glass;' nor in no manner, for 'he straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was.' Seven women shall catch a hold on him. And ef they shall, then they will! For everything shall come to pass, and not one good word shall fall to the ground. You who try to explain away the Scriptur' would make it fig'rative. But don't come to ME with none o' yer spiritooalizers! Not one good word shall fall. Therefore seven shall not fall. And ef seven shall catch a hold on him, and, as I jist proved, seven will catch a hold on him, then seven ought; and in the latterday glory, seven, yea, as our Lord said un-tew Peter, 'Verily I say un-tew you, not seven but seventy times seven,' these seventy times seven shall catch a hold and cleave. Blessed day! For the end shall be even as the beginning, and seventy-fold more abundantly. Come over into my garden."

This invitation always wound up the homily. We gladly accepted it; and I must confess that if there ever could be any hope of our conversion, it was just about the time we stood in Brother Heber's fine orchard, eating apples and apricots between exhortations, and having sound doctrine poked down our throats, with gooseberries as big as plums, to take the taste out of our mouths, like jam after castor-oil.