--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Hammond, Wendell collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 27 number: 7 published: 1924-05 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Wendell Hammond, “The Reminder,” *Improvement Era 27, no. 7 (May 1924)*: 641–650." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2707unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2707unse start_page: 641 end_page: 650 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1924-05) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2707unse publication_year: 1924 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1924, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Reminder THE REMINDER By Wendell Hammond "What is that, Mother? Did I hear you and Daddy say that he is ready to get it now?" Tom Carwood eagerly put his head through the kitchen doorway as he gaily shouted this question to his mother who was preparing breakfast, and to his father who had now moved over to the window and stood looking out. "Say, Daddy, be sure to have me along with you so we'll be sure to get a good one," he candidly admonished. "I am afraid, Tom, that you did not correctly understand what we said," replied Mrs. Carwood, while her husband's attention was still fixed on some object in the yard. "Your father had just said, 'Shall we tell Tom and Becky now?' and — " "Yes, I know, so I thought he was ready to buy it now." "I believe that we shall have to change all our plans — at least for this year, Tom, for your father has had something very unusual happen. I don't believe we had better tell you about it until after breakfast." "Did you hear that, Becky?" asked Tom of his sister as she tardily entered the kitchen from her room. "Something's happened to Dad's plans. We might have known it would all right; it always does; it always has. But I thought this time Dad was surely going to put it over like he had planned." "Say, Mother," suggested Tom as they sat down to breakfast, not attempting to hide the displeasure he felt, "you might just as well tell us now rather than after breakfast." "But what will you tell your friends and the neighbors, Father?" inquired Becky of Mr. Carwood who had so far refrained from saying anything about the momentous happening. "Especially after you have the garage already built, and now it looks like there won't be any car to go into it. And we told you Father — we all told you not to build the garage until after you had bought the car." "Even if it was only going to be a flivver, it was going to have a self-starter and everything else, but now — well it's flivvered all right," Tom tersely summed up the situation. "I suppose we shall have to wait until I can save up to buy one; I've only been working six months or maybe I'd get it now. I will have it yet though," he ended with all the open assertiveness of nineteen years. To all this Mr. Carwood merely continued to look at the sugar bowl and munch his toast in silence. "I suppose we may as well tell you now, children," began Mrs. Garwood, attempting to prevent a worse storm- "A check that your 642 IMPROVEMENT ERA father gave a book salesman for $4.00 was raised by him to $400.00. The rogue cashed the check and escaped; the detectives nor the police have seen him since." "Father, why don't you make the bank pay? Couldn't they tell it had been tampered with?" asked Becky with hope that the money could yet be retrieved. "That is what we thought at first — it happened three days ago — but the cashier said that your father should never make a check out with pencil — that it generally invites trouble." "With pencil! Well, I guess not!" ejaculated Tom with su- perior wisdom, "Anyone knows that much; I learned that the first year at business college. But for a book salesman to get Daddy again, that's the worst part of it. You would have thought Daddy learned a lesson two years ago when he intended to buy only that set of O. Henry, and found out later that he had signed up for a full set of etiquette books and a history of the Danish Kings." "We won't go into that now, Tom," Mr. Carwood lamely defended his past. "I did not believe that a thief would masquerade as a book salesman — a book salesman of all things." "No, that's just it; you didn't think — '-" "Now, Tom, remember you are speaking to your father," cau- tioned his mother. "Well, anyway," retorted Tom gulping down the last of his cocoa, and starting for the door, hat in hand. "you would think father would cut his wisdom teeth sometime." His walk down town that morning was much more rapid than usual; his thoughts much less on his work as stenographer in the legal firm of Ames & Driscoll where he had been employed since completing his commercial studies. By the time he had entered the middle reception room where his desk was located he had definitely reached the conclusion that the only place for a young man of thoroughly modern ideas was in some bachelor apartment, surrounded by kindred other young gentlemen — a place where one would not have the drawback of honest but incomprehensible parents. During the forenoon of that day both Mr. Ames and Mr. Dris- coll were busy putting into final shape the will of Mrs. Cynthia Merrihew who was unquestionably considered, because of the immense wealth received by her upon the death of her husband many years ago, as their best client. Tom spent a busy morning at the typewriter changing several provisions of the will, and improving many wordings as directed by the conscientious lawyers who had spent the greater part of a week shaping the testament into the form they desired it to be. So by noon Tom's head fairly buzzed with a confusion of meaningless THE REMINDER 643 words, of devises, bequests, and legacies, of annuities, trusts, and trust funds, of trustees, legatees, and executors. At noon Tom was glad to telephone, at the request of Mr. Ames, to Mrs. Merrihew to say that at three o'clock the will would be ready for her signature at their office. When the formalities of signing in the presence of two witnesses were over with, the only copy of the will was mailed by Tom, at the request of the pleasant old lady, to her brother in a distant state for his inspection. After Mrs. Merrihew's departure Mr. Ames brought in the will, and placing it on the large safe near Tom's desk said: "Thomas, just put this in the safe with the rest of the Merrihew papers; I am busy now with a client, and Mr. Driscoll will barely have time to get his train." But before Tom did as directed he rearranged the papers on his own desk; placed into the wastepaper basket the many discarded parts of the testament, and said good-bye to Mr. Driscoll who col- lected a few papers before his hurried departure on a short vacation. Then Tom, with thoughts on home, motor cars, and disappointments, resumed his duties. Just a week later as Mr. Ames entered the reception room where Tom was already at work he greeted his stenographer and gravely said: "Thomas, I am very much afraid that we shall have to use Mrs. Merrihew's will long before we anticipated when we drafted it. Yesterday afternoon," he explained, "she was crossing the street when some carelessly driven delivery car struck her; she is now in the hospital in a very dazed condition. Her physicians fear the worst." A few minutes later from his private office Mr. Ames called out: "Thomas, just let me have her will; there is one provision I wish to check over again." Mr. Ames waited a while for the document, and as he heard Tom still sorting over papers in the safe he inquired with a little heat: "Can't you find it, Thomas? It is among her other papers; you remember I told you to put it there." "Yes, I remember, Mr. Ames," answered Tom slowly in a low voice, and still continued to search for the important paper. "Mr. Ames, it isn't — I can't find it any place. I've looked — " "You can't find it?" The lawyer cut him off short, his lips showing strangely white over his teeth. "But it must be there, for you put it there. Didn't you?" he ended with apparent doubt. Together they carefully looked through all the Merrihew papers. The will was not to be found among them. Their examination then extended to the whole safe — with the same result. By this time the deep concern that Mr. Ames felt was clearly manifest in his quick movements and flushed face, while Tom, with a realization of what his evident carelessness might cost himself, his employers, and others, silently and with an ever-growing sickening 644 IMPROVEMENT ERA feeling, diligently continued to look in every conceivable place for the lost document. He went through every desk drawer and receptacle in the room, and while Mr. Ames extended the hunt to his own room he inspected all the letter files — but with the same disheartening end. When both had definitely concluded that it could be in neither the reception room nor Mr. Ames private office they peered into every- thing they could open in Mr. Driscoll's room, And still no will was found. During the hour that Mr. Ames was away for luncheon Tom began afresh on the contents of the safe. He told himself again and again, as he had repeatedly told the lawyer, that he honestly believed he put the document among the other Merrihew papers, though he could not distinctly remember doing so. Occasionally, however, a fear would beset him that he had not touched the paper after Mr. Ames had given his directions about it. Perhaps it had been swept up by the janitor and either burned or carried away by some waste- paper man. This thought only drove him on more fiercely in search- ing for the missing will. After Mr. Ames had returned, Tom took a short ten-minutes off to go to the nearest soda fountain for a sandwich, and then im- mediately returned to the offices to help the lawyer in his apparently fruitless efforts. They locked the room against prospective clients and then went through everything. Even old files and bundles that had accumulated dust for years were opened and inspected by the hope- ful pair. The unpleasant report that Mr Ames received from the hospital just before they gave up the search for the day only increased the necessity of finding the testament. But the more extreme the need became, the more baffling the whole thing appeared. How could the will have disappeared? thought Tom as he trugged home, sorely beset with condemnatory feelings. Even if he had not placed it within the vault, which belief was occasionally dominant, who could have carried it away? Surely a document of so formal appearance as this would not have been swept up by some careless janitor; yet, upon reflection, he concluded that such a thing might have happened. Or could some scapegrace relative of Mrs. Merrihew, knowing what was at stake as a possible receiver of a legacy, obtained the combination to the safe and stolen the will, after learning of her injury? This last thought, as it completely relieved Tom of all blame, was the one he permitted himself to think of most. For the first time in a week Tom refrained from referring to his father as Mr. Easy Mark when he wished some dish passed by him at the dinner table. The omission, however, was not noticed by Mr. Carwood, though it was by Tom's mother who believed, be- THE REMINDER 645 Cause of Tom's somber attitude, that he was still grieving over his father's carelessness. After dinner Tom put on his hat, remarking: "I suppose I'll drop down town; I haven't been down at night for a long time." "Yes, Tommie, do, and be sure to see some Charlie Chaplin movie, for you haven't smiled once this evening. What is the trouble? You haven't been buying any books, have you, Tommie?" hinted Becky with a covert glance at her father, whose only notice of this remark was a sudden rattling of the newspaper which he was reading. Upon entering the office building where he worked Tom sought the janitor in the basement to ask what disposal was made of the wastepaper gathered each evening. "Why, we burns some of it; but most of it we sends away," was his frank reply. "What is that in those two big bins? If that is the paper I'd like to look in it for something we think must have been carried down here by mistake." "That's it all right, a two weeks' collection; just help your- self," the janitor invited. So Tom dug and scraped and sorted papers of all shapes, sizes, and colors for two long perspiring hours. Several times he thought he had found the coveted document, at which his heart leaped wildly, only to feel half smothered when close inspection revealed the find to be valueless. Again and again he kicked his way into the towering mass thigh deep and vigorously scattered the wastage about him. He wearily tumbled into bed that night at eleven, and during the night fitfully dreamed of playing hide-and-go-seek with Mr. Ames and Mrs. Cynthia Merrihew on a huge wooded hill covered knee deep with waste paper. Tom was busy at the typewriter all next day, while Mr. Ames was equally occupied with clients, and before leaving he agreed to meet the lawyer again that night for a re-search of the whole office. The two hours that they spent in going through the same files, the same drawers, and the same closets revealed nothing new, nor did their further exploring in Mr. Driscoll's own desk after obtaining a key that would fit the desk lock. "You should understand how necessary it is, Thomas," ex- plained the lawyer, "to find the original will. Even though we had a copy of it here it would be worthless because Mrs. Merrihew cannot re-sign in her semi-unconscious condition." The next night, Mrs. Merrihew's condition being reported no better, Tom spent an equal time in the same huge bins, having con- cluded that by the barest chance he might have missed the precious document; and this thought drove him on in eager anticipation — to the same discouraging end. Gradually Tom's whole general attitude and interest in things 646 IMPROVEMENT ERA were changing. His every waking hour was in some way affected by the missing will. It had spread it's baneful influence over his whole future so it seemed to him. His father's mistakes and the resulting family loss was as nothing now. He even thought of apologizing to his parents for his sharp words, but a too highly developed sense of pride forbade. Before his present troubles began a passing waste-paper wagon, huge and bulky, was scarcely noticed by him. Now it held pos- sibilities that no California hill ever held for forty-niner. In it's shifting mass perhaps was concealed the thing that could lift the blight from his own career, and bring happiness to scores of others. Tom's constant abstraction at home caused much conjecture between his parents, who advanced various theories as to it's cause, most of them centering around Mr. Carwood's unfortunate check- writing affair. Becky would occasionally give a two-pronged dig remarking: "Tommie, I'm sure you must have bought a set of cyclopedia, or was it a history of China?" But Tom stoically paid no attention to these repeated thrusts. However, Tom was not the only member of the Carwood family who was now undergoing a change. Gradually it was becoming evident that Mr. Carwood was paying more attention to his personal appearance than before. His formerly loosely worn coat was now carefully buttoned each morning before setting out for work; his closely cut hair undeniably gave him a more youthful appearance; his brightly shining shoes bespoke of the daily effort spent upon them, while a neat blue striped tie in place of a time-worn, tightly pulled, dun colored one gave him that last touch that perhaps ac- counted for Mr. McCourtie, the manager of the department store where he worked as bookkeeper, shaking hands with him one day and wishing him a very good morning. Though Mr. Carwood had told no one the reason for his im- provement his wife correctly surmised that at some recent time he had had an accounting with himself; that he had frankly confessed certain careless, effortless habits, and boldly determined to overcome them by his own unaided will, knowing how deeply worn were the ruts and how persistent must be his attitude. Soon after luncheon hour on the fourth day after Mrs. Merri- hew's accident, Mr. Ames received the report that his client's semi- unconscious condition still persisted and that her recovery was now not expected. 'Thomas," he ordered, "lock the door again; we must find that will, and find it this afternoon. Do you hear? That idea of yours that someone took it from the safe is preposterous." An hour later found them perspiring, dishevelled, and begrimed. They had piled all the rugs in a corner after looking under them, moved and looked behind all desks, tables, and chairs, and again THE REMINDER 647 started to go through all the desk drawers when in walked Mr. Driscoll after being forced to open the door with his own key after finding it unaccountably locked. With the jaunty step and rejuven- ated appearance that his short vacation had given him he entered and amusedly surveyed the confusion. "What is it? Have the janitors gone on a strike?" he in- dulgently inquired. "No, but we will all have to shortly if we don't find Mrs. Mer- rihew's will. I know you haven't heard that she is perhaps fatally injured, and that her will is lost — gone completely," answered his partner dolefully. "Her will? Why, I have it. I've had it all the time," was the astounding reply. "You've what?" gasped Mr. Ames, while Tom, forgetting respect, decorum, and position slapped his newly returned employer on the back and exploded: "Good for you, Mr. Driscoll, you've saved my life!" "Why, yes," he explained, "just as I was starting out I saw what I thought was a copy of the will on the safe, I thought I should take it along with me on my trip to re-check at my leisure to see that no mistake had crept in. I did not notice that it was the original will until several days later when I first, read it. But of course I had no idea of your desperate need of it. Now you can breathe easy again." Before leaving the offices at five Mr. Ames again requested a report from the hospital, and was overjoyed to learn that Mrs. Merri- hew was now conscious and unmistakably improving. Tom jubilantly swung home that afternoon with airy lightness, now that the smothering load which he had silently borne so long had suddenly dropped from him. In his ever mounting relief he inwardly vowed that he would save up and give his father a car next year — poor old Daddy, he has been wonderfully patient with so many things going against him. And as for that bachelor apartment, well, there was no hurry about that at all. "Well, Tommie, you look like the booksalesman had forgotten to send in your order after all," intimated Becky as Tom's beaming face reflected his humor as he entered the house. "No, Sis, just something went very well down to the office." "Then I suppose I'll have to confess, too," rejoined Mr. Car- wood, "though I had intended to keep it a secret for a while. I was made head bookkeeper to-day. How's that for an old fossil?" "Oh, splendid, Father. Now that means that you will use the garage soon after all. Doesn't it?" beamed Becky. "I think, Becky, that we shall leave it empty as it is. I might need it to remind me of something, sometime," amended her father, 648 IMPROVEMENT ERA gazing out of the window at the small shelter, it's bright yellow paint gleaming cheerfully in the afternoon sunshine. "Perhaps that would be best, after all," assented Tom after re- flecting. "A peep at it now and then in that condition wouldn't hurt me," he concluded enigmatically. Woods Cross, Utah. B^ ^^hB^^^^H wk* ■ Ej t- Hi r i i*£ A ""•'• ■3 ** 4 Bfri ^ Pjlft Jx J * * . ^i p". ^ , This photograph shows a condition which is rare enough to justify its printing. The child in the picture is Howard Nielson of Leamington, Des- eret stake, Utah, who will be four years old on the 25th of July, 1924. The child has a brother and a sister which were born since October, 1920, at which time the picture was taken. Clead Nielson, the father, is holding the child. At his right, the reader's left, is his father, August Nielson. At his left, the reader's right, is Rodney B. Ashby, father of the child's mother. Standing from left to right is Lars Nielson, Christian Overson, Anthony Stephenson and William H. Ashby, all great grandfathers to the child, from whom four distinct lines of generations, all living, could be traced to the three children now in the family. Three persons in the picture, Lars Nielson, Anthony Stephenson and Rodney B. Ashby, have among them, served as bishops in wards over seventy years, each of them more than twenty years; and Rodney B. Ashby is still in office. Lars Nielson, at the extreme left, died February 16, 1924, age 96 years. Christian Overson and August Nielson between them, served over thirty years as counselors in bishoprics; and Wil- liam H. Ashby was superintendent of the Holden Sunday School over twenty- five years. — Rodney B. Ashby, Bishop of Leamington, Utah. ^**AAA/\AAArt/V»^W\A/VVV\ArtAyVVVWVV\iVV\rtrtA MESSAGES FROM THE MISSIONS "For We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" — II Cor. 4:5, 6. The Church in Aleppo, Syria In the Millenial Star of February 28, is an account, by Presi- dent J. Wilford Booth, of the first conference held under the name of the Armenian mission convened at Aleppo, Syria, January 19-23 inclusive, 1924. President David O. McKay and wife, Emma Ray McKay were present at the conference, besides President J. Wilford Booth and his wife, Mary R. Booth, of the Armenian mission. The company arrived at Beirut, Syria, on the morning of January 18 on the steamer, Lotus. They proceeded immediately to Aleppo by auto- mobile, over the Lebanon mountains, and across the valley of Leontes, to the antique ruins of the city of Baalbek. A ten hours' ride by rail, the next day, brought the party to Aleppo, in southern Syria. Here they were met at the station by the Saints. The conference and reception began on Saturday evening and there were very interesting exercises which had been prepared in honor of President McKay and party, one hundred persons being present. President McKay told of the striking contrast between the condition he found the Saints in, Nov. 1921, and that evidenced on the present occasion. On the following Sunday morning, at 9 o'clock, the Sunday School session of the conference began. Singing, recitations and speeches were given by the native Saints, and in the presentation of the program five languages were employed — English, French, Turkish, Armenian and Arabic. The Articles of Faith were recited by 26 members, in English and Turkish. At this session 110 people were in attendance and President McKay told a story illustrating honesty. One of the songs sung was "Joseph Smith's First Prayer, O how lovely was the morning," a facsimile of two verses of which, as it appears in a turkish translation in Armenian characters and in the Armenian hymn book, we -present herewith: Meeting then followed at 1 :30 p. m. and at 6:30. A Relief Society meeting had been held by Sister Emma Ray McKay, president of the European Relief Societies, just after the Sunday School session. On Mon- day following, January 21, a dinner was tendered by the Honorable Parker R. Burhman and T. R. Flack, United States Consul and Vice-Consul respectively, in honor of President and Mrs. McKay and President and Mrs. Booth. On Tuesday evening a joint session of the Mutual Improvement Association was held in the assembly room at