The Prayer: A Poem

THE "MORMON" BOY AT COLLEGE. 19

not the courage to speak openly, slurs religion, or speaks slightingly of it, he is surely too weak to be of use in the kingdom of God or of man. And such a teacher should be rebuked by his own pupils. Yet the influence is strong and widely felt, not only in far-away schools, but in some that are built in our very midst. Undoubtedly, then, it is not the fault of "Mormonism" that there are fallers-away; nor is it the fault of education. The fault is with the apostates themselves. In this paper, I have named only some of the temptations that a "Mormon" boy has to overcome at college. There are many things that will help to build him up. There are religious and philanthropic societies of many kinds; there are Bible classes and temperance clubs; and there is the truth gleaned daily in his special study; but these we have not space to discuss here. The temptations are, after all, only those that exist at home. They, alone, should not deter any parent from sending his son to a good school. The boy's best preparation can be given him while he is at home —that is,

thorough instruction in the principles of the gospel; and the devel- opment of honest, manly strength to resist temptation. If our boys were thus prepared, we should not be humiliated by having to confess that they lose their faith when they are educated.

Salt Lake City, Utah.

THE PRAYER. {.For the Improvement Era.)

From home, one night, I roamed away. The starlit dome o'erhead. The vast domain Of mystic plain As silent as the dead. The bright stars glowed with wondrous light, The constellations vast Brought near to me The history Of all the mighty past.

! !

20 IMPROVEMENT ERA. I cast mine eyes toward the North, To Orient my soul From Merak's light To Dubhe bright, From Dubhe to the Pole. I turned and saw the Pleiades,

Alcyone's vast sway; I watched Orion sweeping by.

And viewed the Milky Way.

And then I thought of God who rules This universe so grand, And asked Him there To heed my prayer. And lead me by his hand. And then his Comforter was thrown, A mantle o'er my soul; And, peacefully, my destiny- Moves onward to its goal.

Prayer, what mighty power is thine, Supreme throughout the years To God's own heart Thou dost impart Our sorrows, hopes and fears Where'er the penitent may be. Though lonely and alone, A tearful eye, or thought, or sigh, God answers from his throne. ' J L. TOWNSENB Payson, Utah.

THE COURTSHIP OF KANOSH.

A PIONEER INDIAN LOVE STORY.

BY SUSA YOUNG GATES.

The few tins and coppers in Mrs. Mary's pioneer log cabin twinkled and flashed in the light of the blazing logs upon the great hearthstone, that chilly afternoon in September, 1848. Every article in that meagerly furnished room was clean and free from a housekeeper's reproach. The white chief's wife had gone across the fort with her baby, leaving the thirteen-year old Indian maiden, Sally, in full possession of the cozy log-cabin.

And lo, Sally had a lover! There he sat, on the door step, his great blanket folded about his arms and muffling his chin; his neck was sunk low in his drooping shoulders, and his attitude expressed either sadness or anger. Sally paid no attention whatever to him. It was not that