The Open Road. Stages XVI and XVII

HE OPEN ROAD 127 "I only think and dream !" The bread pan with the melted grease was brought from the stove. "He was drowned. Poor dear!" "Drowned, Mrs. Bernstein! what a horrible death!" shivered Bessie. She took her hands out of the water, the drops falling fast and heavy off her fingers, as if she herself had just come out of the river instead of the boy that was drOwned. "Yes, child, and a lovelier little fellow you never saw, with his long, golden curls." Bessie did not know, and Mrs. Bernstein did not tell her, that in a little gold case (with a clasp) upstairs in a bureau drawer was one of those very curls, which the tender-hearted creature would take out once in a while even now and cry over. Nor did Bessie know anything of some little articles of clothing, including a little red jacket all folded up nicely in that same drawer but taken out less frequently and never wept over as in the past. "How old was he then?" the young lady inquired- "Only two years, Bessie." "And how did it happen, — Mrs. Bernstein?" The towel was being applied to the dishes now, and the loaves were being rolled, patted, greased, and put into the pan. "We didn't know anything about it, dear — we had been so distracted about his being stolen from us by some kidnappers. — Those wicked people never know what mischief — " Here Bessie did what only hired girls and little girls just beginning to learn the delicate art of housekeeping have any license to do — she suddenly dropped a blue figured china tea cup on the floor, breaking it into a dozen pieces ! As a matter of fact, it was fortunate that she did so, for otherwise Mrs. Bernstein would have embarrassed her by inquiring into her confusion. Instead, Mrs. Bernstein only said that it didn't — she needn't look so put out over it. To which Bessie could only say, "How stupid of me!" and "What were you saying, Mrs. Bernstein? I was so interested, I wasn't watching my work." Our little boy was kidnapped when he was two years old," the elder woman continued. "Mr. Bernstein and I had gone to the concert one night, leaving our little Lewis (named for his father, you know) at home with the nurse. Well, when we returned from the theatre, we found the little boy gone and all the servants in tears and fright. A man, they said, had suddenly appeared and stolen him from them." "How horrid !" Bessie interjected. Neither the bread nor the dish-washing now made any progress, both women sitting down facing each other on opposite sides of the table. "In a few days Mr. Bernstein received a letter telling him to

128 IMPROVEMENT ERA have twenty-five thousand gold marks, or about six thousand dollars in our money, in a certain place, asking no questions, and we should have our child. Otherwise we should never see him alive. You may imagine what state of mind I was in, Bessie! He was our only child, and to think he was in the hands of men who would actually kill him if they couldn't get paid for returning him alive!" "And didn't you know who it was that stole him?" asked Bessie. "Not positively. We suspected he was a man who had once been in Mr. Bernstein's employ and whom Mr. Bernstein had dismissed for some dishonesty. But we didn't know for sure. Anyway, we were horrified that very day, before we could get the money to the place, to find the body of our little boy terribly mangled on the bank of the river." "Are you sure, Mrs. Bernstein, that it was your own child?" "Yes, it was ours. We had no doubt about that, for the body had on the. little red jacket our baby wore when he was stolen. And there were the golden curls, besides. There was nothing else we could positively recognize." The bread and the dishes progressed now again. After that I couldn't endure to live in Strassburg any more. Everything reminded me of my little Lewis. We had been in the Church, both of us, before we were married, and were intending to come to Zion sooner or later anyway. So we thought that would be a good chance, and we came. That's twenty-one years ago last month. But how far I've wandered away from Brocketts ! What was it that sent me away from him, anyway, and to my little boy that's been dead so long?" Bessie would have liked to say that her friend had not wandered away from Brocketts at all, but she did not care to. How she would have delighted in telling her that she was mistaken in the little boy whose body they had found in the river and who wore the yellow hair and the red jacket! only Brocketts, she determined, should tell her this. "You were just saying, Mrs. Bernstein, that your boy would be about Brocketts' age now if he were living, and I told you I didn't know you had ever had a boy. Then you told me about him. Wouldn't it be nice if it should turn out that you were mistaken all these years and your real son should appear?" Bessie could not refrain from playing with the great temptation. Wouldn't it prepare her just a little? "No; that'll never be, Bessie — its impossible!" "Nevertheless," persisted Bessie, "if I were a fairy I would touch some young man and then touch you and Papa Bernstein and make you believe he was your son ! Wouldn't that be nice ? I'd— I'd— I believe I'd— touch Brocketts !" Hov dared she venture so near the brink! T

HE OPEN ROAD 129 But it did no harm. For Mrs. Bernstein, utterly oblivious that two things were one thing, said, "Speaking of Brocketts again, Bessie, reminds me that we have asked him here to supper to-morrow evening. And we want you to be here, too. But don't tell him you're coming, will you?" Bessie wouldn't. "We want it for a surprise, you know. We've got another surprise for him, too." "Maybe we'll all be surprised." Bessie ventured once more near the precipice. "You'll be sure to come, won't you?" urged Mrs. Bernstein. "Oh, I'll be there !" And Bessie gave Mrs. Bernstein the most astonishing hug. The bread being in the oven, and the dishes having been put away, clean, in the cupboard, and the conversation about Brocketts being ended, we have no further use for either Mrs. Bernstein or Bessie Ward just now, and so it is deemed best to conclude this sixteenth stage and wait for to-morrow evening. Stage XVII — In Which Things Come to an End The next evening came, as all evenings will if you wait long enough for them, and found four of the happiest persons in the world at Mr. Bernstein's. I have always suspected, since that memorable time, that they were really happier than they knew. But be that as it may, it is at all events certain that the calm, satisfied look on the faces of Mr. Bernstein and Brocketts, as they sat in the parlor waiting for dinner, and the bustlings and the smiles of Mrs. Bernstein and Bessie as they went about to prepare that dinner, betokened the highest state of quiet, contented happiness. Everything had come about precisely as they had wished — except the dinner. That dinner was to have been ready by six, Mrs. Bernstein said. But what dinner ever is ready by the time it is advertised ? I'd like to know. Dinners have a way of being behind-hand. Everybody is aware of that, who has been fortunate enough ever to have had one. This dinner was no exception to the rule. And yet, as Mrs. Bernstein declared over and over again, the potatoes were put on plenty early enough, Bessie, only the fire just would not burn, you know. Then there were the other vegetables — they were in the same stationary state of unpreparedness for I don't know how long. Not that the two men cared. Oh, no ! Men never do. They might have done so, however, if they hadn't seen the women folks making such a pickle and a stew about it, as if they were trying not to commit the unpardonable sin. For women have the idea that the unpardonable sin is somehow connected with men's

130 IMPROVEMENT ERA stomachs — which it is not. But Brocketts and Mr. Bernstein had plenty to talk about. If they hadn't there was the weather, which is always on hand to be talked about. They had no neighbors in common, these two, whose shortcomings offered to supply a target. And so they talked of the store, of how Shorthurst hadn't yet been found, and similar topics — which could easily be set down here if the reader so desired. Mr. Bernstein had a topic on his mind and Brocketts had a topic on his, but they both decided to reserve these till the women could participate in their effect. The elder man's came at the table. "Mother," he said, "Brocketts and I have been speaking about the store. He knows already what I think of him for the way he has managed my affairs during my sickness. I'm getting along well enough now, and shall be at the store again pretty soon. But Brocketts," here he turned towards that young person, "I want you to be permanent manager." Brocketts thanked him and said he would be glad to assume, or rather to keep, that responsibility and honor. "Only on one condition, though," Mr. Bernstein added, "and that is that you become my partner in the business !" Brocketts was obviously flattered. "I could buy in, Mr. Bernstein, if it weren't for one thing I have in mind that I want to speak to you about in a little while. I've got twelve thousand dollars I received for some land in the southeastern part of the city, off the boomers. You know I've been buying land all these years. Well, the other day I sold that big piece for twelve thousand dollars. But I want to use that for another purpose." Bessie looked as if she didn't care a fig for that other purpose. She knew something that nobody else there knew. Mr. Bernstein said that would be all right. Brocketts would be a partner in the firm anyway, and so from now on the sign should read "Bernstein & Porter." Brocketts could put money into the concern as he had it to spare. Presently, dinner being over, the four retired to the parlor. "The reason I wash to keep that twelve thousand dollars, Mr. Bernstein, is that I want to get a leave of absence for a month or two." Mr. Bernstein was greatly surprised. "You mean you want to go away on your wedding trip, Brocketts?" "Well, partly that" — Bessie and he would of course go together. "But that won't take twelve thousand dollars, my boy! One thousand would be plenty for that." "But there's something else, Mr. Bernstein. I want to find my father and mother." "Why, I thought they were dead, Brocketts !" Mr. Bernstein said. "Somehow I got the idea you were an orphan." T

HE OPEN ROAD 131 Bessie sat up straight in her chair and watched two faces keenly for the first dawn of a certain light. It was a great moment. "In a way, I am an orphan, but my parents are alive somewhere. You see, I was kidnaped when I was about two years old." Mr. and Mrs. Bernstein looked at each other blankly, a vague something at their heart. "Where did you live, Brocketts?" asked Mr. Bernstein. "In Germany — Strassburg." "Strassburg!" exclaimed Mrs. Bernstein and her husband in a breath. "Yes ; my father, it appears, was a merchant at Strassburg when I was stolen." "A merchant !" And another look and vague feeling of the heart. "Yes ; a certain sum of money, it appears, was asked for me, but before it could be got, the body of a child about my own age and looks was found in the — " "Lewis, this is our own little boy come to life again!" Mrs. Bernstein cried. And before anyone could think, she had Brocketts in her arms, showering him with kisses and affectionate little phrases. Mr. Bernstein also ran up to Brocketts. From Bessie's point of view, who had been prepared for it, this was a pleasant scene ; only she would have liked to have a hand in it. Instead, she merely looked on at a far distance, as it seemed. Presently, Mrs. Bernstein was extricated from Brocketts. She was a brave little woman and inclined, as I have said before, to take things philosophically, else she would have fainted afterwards. But she didn't. She insisted, though, on sitting by him, very close, and holding his hand and looking into his face, while Mr. Bernstein asked some questions. "But how was it the body of the drowned child had on a little red jacket you wore when you were kidnaped?" "I don't quite know. The man that had me said the coajt was taken off by the one that stole me, and he didn't know how it got on the dead child." "You know, then, .who it was that kidnaped you ?" "No; except that it was a man who had worked for you in the store." i The father and mother exchanged glances. "Wallenburger " said the father. "I thought so. But how did you learn all this, Brocketts?" "From a seaman I sailed down the Rhine with. He was the one that took me to the Orphanage, he said, at Vinningen."

132 IMPROVEMENT ERA "And they took my little Lewis to an orphanage !" from Mrs. Bernstein. Well, the rest of the story came out that night — every detail of it, as the reader already knows it. Many times during the recital the tears stood in the eyes of at least three persons. It was a long story and took all the night and a good part of the morning in the telling. The upshot was, that the twelve thousand dollars went into the new firm, and that the sign on the store front was changed to "Bernstein and Son." (the end) The headquarters of the Swiss-German mission have been changed from Hoeschgasse 68, Zurich, to Rheinlander Str. 10-1, Basel, Switzerland. President Hyrum W. Valentine calls attention to the fact that letters sent to Switzerland must carry five cents postage for regular weight. Elder E. C. Warner, writing from Richmond, Melbourne, Australia, June 27, says: "We have eight energetic elders here in Victoria who are striving hard in the cause of truth. Our city has a population of 500,000, and we have two thriving branches established here. Our hall and street meetings are well attended and we have a goodly number of new friends and investigators making us feel that our labors are not in vain. Although it is midwinter here we do not intend to slight the Fourth of July. We have no snow, but plenty of rain, and overcoats are needed mornings and evenings." Elder J. Lewis Swenson, writing from Excelsior Springs, Mo.. September 23, says: "We are working in Clay County, Missouri. The truths expressed by the brethren years ago are beginning to take root, and there are some people who are earnestly investigating the restored gospel of Jesus Christ as taught by the Latter-day Saints. Many of the elderly citizens of this county still hold to their old forms of worship, but the younger generations are awakening to the fact that it is by their fruits that they shall be known. They see the results produced by the Latter-day Saints since they were driven from this country, in 1839." Elders, left to right: J. Lewis Swenson, Provo, Utah, Heber B. Haws, Vernal, Utah.

A Tribute to Dennison Emer Harris BY EDWARD H. ANDERSON The earth lost one of its noblemen when, on the 24th of last July, Dennison Emer Harris was called to the other side. He was a friend to every good man, and he had great influence with the evil-doer in showing him the error of his ways. His life was spent in the service of his fellow man. He was true to his God and loyal to his religion. His influence was always cast on the side of right, and he was a great advocate of peace, honor, virtue and all that tends to uplift man. His practicality and sound judgment made him a strength in every community in which he lived, and his living in a community was considered an asset by the officials, both church and civil. Elder Harris was born in Springville, Utah, May 13, 1854. His father was Dennison Lot Harris and his mother, Sarah Wilson Harris. He was a grand nephew of Martin Harris, one of the three witnesses of the Book of Mormon. He was eighth in line of descent from Thomas Harris, who came to America with Roger ,„„„ . " , . T , . , . ,. -r? D. E. HARRIS Williams in the ship Lyon, which left England, December, 1630, and arrived in Boston, February, 1631. The family lived in Massachusetts, Rhode Island and New York. In the latter state many members received the gospel in the early days of the Church. His father, Dennison Lot Harris, was closely connected with the Prophet Joseph Smith during the days of trouble in Nauvoo. He and a young man named Scott were invited to the meetings of the conspirators against Joseph Smith. They attended the meetings and reported the results to the prophet who was thus able to keep out of the clutches of his enemies. During the childhood of Elder Harris his parents were pioneers in various settlements from northern Utah to Dixie, but

134 IMPROVEMENT ERA (luring his early manhood the family lived in Sevier county, where his father was bishop of Monroe for many years. While still young, he had a burning desire for an education, which desire was partially satisfied through years of hard struggle which were necessary in pioneer days. He went on foot from Monroe to Park City in order to earn his first money with which to go away to school. As this was an almost unheard of* thing in his community, his friends thought him nearly crazy to make such sacrifices for an education. After a few years of schooling, it was his privilege to implant in the hearts of his old playmates a desire for an education, and as a result many of them became prominent in the educational and professional circles of the state. He attended the University of Deseret and the Brigham Young Academy, and was graduated from the latter institution. At these schools his personal contact with Drs. John R. Park and Karl G. Maeser was a great source of inspiration to him during his entire life. It was while attending the University that he first became interested in the Mutual Improvement work. The movement was just being started in Salt Lake City, and it appealed to him so strongly that he enlisted in the work at once, and was connected with it directly or indirectly from that time till the day of his death. During this period he held every position in the organization from secretary of a ward society to superintendent of the work in a stake. He also labored as a M. I. A. missionary, being sent from the Juarez to the Salt Lake stake of Zion. He always considered • the teaching of young people to be his chief mission in life, so the Mutual Improvement Associations offered an excellent place for the exercise of his gifts. He was a pioneer to Mexico in the early nineties, where his first work was that of an educator. The high intellectual and moral standards of the young Latter-day Saints in that country are perhaps due to him as much as to any other person. He served in the bishopric of the Juarez ward and as superintendent of the Y. M. M. I. A. of the Juarez stake for a number of years. During the past few years he has divided his time between Provo, Utah, and Cardston, Canada, being bishop of the latter place about four years. He has filled three missions. During his second, he presided