--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Grant, Carter E. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 30 number: 10 published: 1927-08 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Carter E. Grant, “Ted’s Race for Life,” *Improvement Era* 30, no. 10 (August 1927): 890–899." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera30010unse 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: improvementera30010unse start_page: 890 end_page: 899 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1927-08) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera30010unse publication_year: 1927 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 1927, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Ted’s Race for Life TEDS RACE FOR LIFE By Carter E. Grant, Jordan L. D. S. Seminary. "Yet they heed No word, and like a river in the Spring, They flood the country, sweeping everything Before them! 'Twas not many snows ago They said that we might hunt our buffalo In this, our land, forever. Now they come To break that promise. Shall we cower, dumb? Or shall we say: 'First kill us — here we stand'?" "The councillors were heard no more that day; And from the moony hill tops all night long, The wolves gave answer to the battle-song."* It was a time when, both north and south of Salt Lake City, the Indians were on the war-path. Many depredations were forced successfully against the smaller, outlying districts. Not uncommon was it for horses and cattle to be stolen; but when a herd-boy was kidnaped or killed, the whole village, with sympathetic assistance from larger centers, arose and generally the marauders paid dearly for their booty and cunningness. But on the occasion of Ted's capture and complete concealment, swift horsemen, anxious and threatening, were foiled and outwitted. Ted Booth was twelve years old that very Spring — a herd-boy of the most trusted sort; bare-footed, generally without hat, with home- spun trousers and shirt; these, coupled with his faithful and ever- present dog, along with "Dandy," the sorrel pony, made up the outfit. Out of the crimson west each evening, this crew returned with its flock to the outskirts of the village of Brigham City. The month of May had blustered in backward and cold; all the seasons happened in a week. The worth-while grass patches, far and few between, lay in the distant swales, off toward Bear River. Now, however, that the Bannocks and Utes had killed two farmers in Cache Valley, Ted was warned to herd as near the village as possible. Even this was not without its dangers. It was Monday morning, and due to the fact that President Brigham Young and other authorities had been attending conference the day before, the herd on Sunday had been out but little. By sunrise, the animals, gaunt and restless, were at the bars bawling and 'bellowing resolutely; but as one of Ted's rules was that he, himself, must open the gates, the animals must wait the regular time. This morning, however, just as he was leaving, he had been directed to the supply store fc* a sack of flour. As the store keeper was the bishop, *The song of the Indian Wars, Neihardt, pp. 5 6- 5 7, 1925. TED'S RACE FOR LIFE 891 and was entertaining visitors at breakfast, there was nothing to do but wait; so wait he did. Thinking the boy would return in a half hour at the most, the widowed mother dropped the bars and freed her own two restless heifers. Off they started, on a half trot, for the feed-grounds. Little did she realize that here was the beginning of months of prayers and tears. Not until the boy put in his appearance and called regarding the cows, did she think of her possible mistake. "Which way did they go?" anxiously inquired Ted, as he turned his restless young eyes over the range to the north and west. "Possibly they have stopped at one of the other gates," encourag- ingly suggested the mother. As he mounted his horse, Ted made no answer, but the mother read a look in his eyes that made her know that the boy did not be- lieve that hungry, thirsty cows had stopped anywhere to visit friends. Finally he exclaimed, "They seem to have put off toward the river. Send Harry around to get the herd out, and I'll ride across the country and head off the heifers and return in time to meet the bunch above the big draw in Billy's Meadow." Ted took the lunch from his mother's outstretched hand, leaned down for his usual kiss — but this time he got a hug and two kisses — whistled for Fritz, his dog, slapped his pony and was off. The mother followed down to the clearing to scan the country for herself. A quarter of a mile westward, Ted picked up the tracks and galloped on hurriedly. Turning to look back, he saw his mother standing in the opening. Out came his red handkerchief, up went her apron; each felt satisfied. The tracks plainly showed that the hungry, empty-uddered animals were off for the river. Mile after mile Ted urged his sweating horse. As he was hidden from the village, past bluffs and swales, he rather chilled as he thought of Indians. He hadn't thought so much of danger until now. At conference, only the day before, Presi- dent Young had warned the settlers to be on their guard, to take no chances with the "Redman," at least until tha present crisis was past. Fritz, with his head low and tongue well out, followed closely at the pony's heels. Into a long meadow draw he sped. More than a mile away he caught a glimpse of his cows as they were turning past the river bluffs toward the bottoms. Such riding soon brought him out on the river meadows, beyond the bluffs on either side. Up stream a little way, his animals were contentedly grazing. They had been there before, so had he. But now he seemed to feel out of place. As he started toward the heifers, his eyes swept up the river country. He was more than nervously startled when he saw a large lodge of several hundred Indians on the opposite bank of the river, not a quarter of a mile distant. They were hurriedly breaking camp and were moving westward. But that wasn't the cause of his hair standing. Two bucks, headed toward the cows. 892 IMPROVEMENT ERA were forcing their horses into the river, and, now that he had appeared, were hurrying forward. Here, indeed, was a perplexing situation. For just a moment he was distressed. "I'll save mother's cows," he exclaimed, as he dashed forward. A moment later the sweating pony, harking dog, and anxious youngster were racing up the ravine. Now that he had taken their prize with such speed, he thought possibly the Indians would not follow, especially as the river was high and their horses would be forced to swim. He knew not then how easily savages did such stunts. The flock was just racing out of the draw, when suddenly they came to a dead halt. The Redskins galloped across the path. The dog's hair bristled as he gave a low, anxious whine, followed by several sharp barks. The two foes, not a hundred feet away, started toward the group. The pony pricked its ears. One chance was open. Almost spontaneously, Ted whirled Dandy straight southward and away they flew. "Go it, Dandy! Go it!" he urged his tired pony, which sensed danger and sped like the wind. Leaning low, one of the half -naked fellows pursued, urging his horse to full speed and keeping well between the boy and the town. At the end of a quarter of a mile, they were coming closer together. "Oh, if mv horse were just fresh!" Ted half sobbed, "I could beat him, I know." Immediately ahead, directly across their path and cut deep in the clay formation, was a hidden ravine, so perpendicular that to fall into it meant death for either rider. At its very edge, he tried to think, should he turn his horse off toward the river and farther from home and safety or whirl it quickly and attempt to run by his enemy, who now was not ten yards distant. He chose the latter, and as alert ag a wild steer, his pony flew eastward at the very heels of the Indian horse. Yelling a halting signal, the enemy whirled his own pony. Ted had the lead and, for the first time, began stinging his horse's sides with the rawhide whip, while he scanned the country anxiously. Once his heart leaped, then he saw that what at first seemed to be horsemen were but low-lying bushes in the distance. Intensely angered by the tricky youngster, the Indian followed fast in death-like pursuit, yelling like a Comanche. After a quarter of a mile of such racing, Dandy had done his level best. The puffing brute behind came closer and closer. His outstretched head and neck were at Ted's side. "Wh-ugh! Wh-ugh!" the big red devil demanded, as a moment later he closed in and grabbed the reins, bringing the chase by a few halting jumps to a stand-still. Angered, yet with a feeling of triumph, the ugly fellow ex- ultingly produced his tomahawk. Although his speech was broken, still his eyes talked all languages; and there was no mistaking their expression as he lifted high his shining war-hatchet. The boy was thus grimly introduced to what surely would happen should he show any further inclination for escape. "Eu me boy! Eu me boy!" he exclaimed with grunted accent. TED'S RACE FOR LIFE 893 "Kum!" he demanded as he harshly jerked the reins from his captive's hands and began leading the reluctant and indisposed, panting horse and rider toward the rolling bluffs and long trails of the mountains westward. Although Ted was a prisoner, he had by no means Slur- rendered. Again and again he set his eyes longingly on every distant object lying between him and the village. The thought of his dog jumped into his muddled brain. "Fritz! Fritz!" He half spoke the words with a sob, as he scanned about, fully expecting to see his faithful friend. The Indian immediately caught the meaning of Ted's uneasiness, and turning abruptly, with anger and misgivings, demanded, "Wh'r dog? Wh'r dog?" Then with hand lifted for a shade, the eagle-like eyes of the Indian pierced the country on every side, and especially that toward the village, His whole body spoke curses. When they traveled again, it was faster. The river was forded carefully but quickly. On the opposite bank, the reins were thrown to the boy, and he was com- manded, "Gw-on." The Indian pointed to the trail and slashed Dandy with his rawhide. On, on, mile after mile they galloped. Ted hoped, then prayed his boyish prayers in silence — prayed that mother would interpret quickly the dog's early arrival, prayed that all the men of the village would mount and pursue rapidly. "Surely," he confidently exclaimed to his inmost soul, "surely, by night or early tomorrow, they will overtake this large crowd.'" He was glad there were so many. In the distance he could see the camp. As the two rode up, Ted caught enough of the conversation to know the cows had not yet arrived, and from the gestures, he was sure they were coming across the country by another route. All the young fellows in camp pleasingly eyed Dandy many times. Several got upon his back, only to be roughly dismounted by their elders. Dinner, at the various groups, was now ready. Ted brought out his own, mashed lunch, which he was allowed to eat. When the start was made again, the boy was transferred to a pack-horse and was tied securely. Then his captor rode up quickly with a strip of shawl in his hand, and before Ted really knew what it was all about, he was roughly and completely blindfolded. To submit in silence was part of the prisoner's privilege — there was nothing else to do. When they started again, Ted soon found that he and the cows and a few men were leaving over a secret trail for the Snake River country. "The rescue party — hqw will they find our tracks?" he sobbed. Not until far into the night, did they stop, and by day-break they were moving again. The boy was not tied this time, but was again blindfolded. Hour after hour of forced darkness made him sea-sick. Several times during the day, he wept bitterly. Once, becoming so desperate with hopeless despondency, he rashly tore off the bandage, only to have it roughly replaced, amid unmistakable warnings from all present. Time wore on. Slow hours of darkness over difficult trails, coupled with no assurance whatever for the future, bred confused 894 IMPROVEMENT ERA and shadowy forebodings — blacker than death itself. A panorama, disgusting, hideous and shocking, mocked him. Should he be severed from this life with but one stroke of a dashing tomahawk? He felt such would be a welcome end, for then he would go immediately to join his father, who had been dead these three years. Then, as he cast his mind upon his mother, apron in hand, and felt again the love and confidence of that last farewell, pluck and courage filled his soul, and forth in silence he rode, fighting despondency. Pray he must — pray he did and felt better. At last the long journey was at an end, and a new life began. Evidently the Indians had traded off his pony, for he never saw it again. Days lengthened into weeks and weeks into months. Which way or how the many formidable mountain ranges were lying, between him and home, Ted could not possibly guess with any degree of dependable accuracy. But worse than all phases of Indian life, was the dirty, half-cooked, messed-up servings of food, to which all helped themselves. He learned that the name of his captor was Deer Foot, while the Indian who got the cows was ever spoken of as Wolf Head. The long, drowsy, dull days of a dead, tedious Summer moved with Indian sluggishness. The Redman was on his vacation, and except for satisfying his fishing likes, he listlessly kept within the shadows and thought little of legitimate self-advancement. At last Fall found their flickering fire-side and bade it burn brightly against heavily frosty nights. While yet the leaves of the lower levels hung green, still as the eye led upward to ledge and crag and mountain beyond, the vegetation was seen to be turning red and yellow, pre- paring for the snows of a heavy Winter. Soon the sure signs of an Indian Summer settled serenely and silently, bringing a mystic, smoke- like mist, leaving it profusely hanging over hill and dale as far as the eye could see. But at last the November winds, bold and robust, plundered the trees of the valley and cleared the shades from over the lodges, which now stood in bold relief, huddled among naked bows of the low-lands. Ted, tanned to a brown, by sun and wind, began hearing wonderful news. At tomorrow's dawning, camp was to be broken and all were to move many days eastward to the place of their usual wintering. On the route, they were to stop and exchange their un- usually large catch of fall beaver packs for carrots, onions, corn rn^al. flour, etc. Up to this morning of departure, Ted had never been allowed to get astride a horse. Imagine now his joy, a9 he rode a small pony along with the other fellows, moving surely but slowly away from Snake River Valley toward what he felt was a better chance for freedom. "My birthday surely can't be far off," he reasoned. "I remember that this year we thought it would come on Thanks- giving day. From the feel of the air, November 26 isn't very TED'S RACE FOR LIFE 895 far away." Day after day they traveled; the many valleys and ridges and mountains ran along in bewildering numbers. Just where they were, Ted did not know — he must by no means inquire. Such interest might cost his present liberty. If possible, he would let nothing take from him this privilege which he now so enjoyed. At last, about noon of a certain day, there stretched before him a sight never to be forgotten — Bear River Valley lay nestling snugly beneath its sheltering mountains. Quickly arousing himself from the fascin- ating charm of the almost bewitching view, he became decidedly neutral and indifferent to all surroundings and busied himself glori- ously in the braiding of his horse's main. He did not fail to notice, however, that Deer Foot, with no share of camp obligation, rode always near at hand. The noon stop lengthened into hours, and not until the sun was touching the western hills did they move forward. As dusk settled its November chill over the riders, both Wolf Head and Dear Foot rode quietly along near Ted and his Indian pony. During the night, they went into camp about a quarter of a mile west of the river. What disposition they were finally to make of him, Ted tried to reason out, but this much was sure, he found, as the days of trading sped on, they were allowing him not the least chance of escape. Among the band of ponies, a little taller than the rest, was a rather lanky, long-legged, roan horse, skittish toward being roped in the open. Being the fastest animal of the bunch, he was regularly used to lead the round-up; at least, when he could be caught. No one but Ted knew how well this horse liked carrots. The boy and Roanie, all unobserved, had become confidential friends. All the spare furs were now gone; to move was the next object, and that before winter snows - retarded progress. The boy, still hopeful, grew more determined that, with the first possible chance, he would make a dash for freedom. Realizing, however, the results of failure, he must make no slippery turn. The morning for moving came; they began tearing down the camp; supplies were made ready for packing; the horses had been driven in and were now quietly feeding a few hundred feet to the south of camp. About ten o'clock, several large flock of Canadian geese came honking up the river. Circling about a few times a half-mile or so above the camp, they finally lit. Never before had Ted seen so much excitement among the young fellows. All ran for their guns except a few of the older heads. Even Wolf Head and Deer Foot were persuaded to let some of the younger hunters take their guns. All seated themselves) close about their fires and silently waited the cracking of the muskets. Ted quietly felt in his pocket; yes, it contained two carrots; and secretly concealed in his clothes was a small, short, Indian bridle rope, the jaw style used by this band exclusively. The wait was longer than expected. The squaws were calling to "Pack up!" Just 896 IMPROVEMENT ERA then one of the bucks in an impatient and commanding mood ex- claimed, "Out, get horses, boy. Bring 'em in. Go!" And as Ted started southward he was interrupted with, "No ride 'em. You walk 'em." The boy nodded his understanding of the orders. As he stepped forward his heart, pounding heavily, seemed to be right up in his neck, then his breath came so fast that he was rather over- supplied, and greatly feared that his very manner of walking would betray his determination before he should reach the horses. "Bang! Bang!" Blustered the guns in unison, amid shouts of men and cries of rising geese. Not even this noise made Ted look back. His chance was here! He must take it right now, and on but one horse; and that was Roanie. He knew, however, that no one outside of camp had successfully put a rope around his neck. Could he do it? That was the question. The horses now ceased eating, lifted their heads and watched Ted, as he came forward mincing a carrot. "Come Roanie, come Roanie, come Roanie," gently and per- suasively entreated the boy. "Come on, old fellow; come on." The big roan pricked his ears, stood with head and tail lifted, then with a decided little neigh, left the bunch and came striding straight toward the approaching carrot. For the first time, the excited boy glanced toward camp. The Indians had dropped their blankets and were stand- . ing watching every move intently. "Shall I try it? Shall I try it?" he repeated quickly to himself, as he produced the remaining carrot for the fascinated horse. Here was the horse, there was the river, ?.nd then the long chase. He patted Roanie's neck and at the same moment produced his rope which, in another instant, was fastened. A grasp of the heavy mane, a quick leap and he was astride the prancing steed. Before the horse had taken two leaps with its tail toward camp, the shouts of outwitted, angry savages met his ears. How he must flee! A race for life, indeed! Make it or die in the attempt. He was determined! No thought of ford or trail, straight for the river bluffs he flew. Over their edge and down through the stinging brush and willows he fairly tore, sticking like a leach. Here was the river, deep and eddying. Slacking a little, the horse gave a plunge. Only Ted's head and shoulders (remained above water. Up they bobbed, however, and struck out for the opposite bank, the horse swimming wonderfully. Up the frosty incline on the other side, through trees land bushes, the half-drowned horse and rider hurried. As they reached the higher ground, a hundred yards farther on, the boy turned in time to see his pursuers on their ponies, racing down the opposite incline toward the river. With the ceasing of their shouts, Ted read their cold determination. The youngster felt every muscle of Roanie tighten as he cleared small washes or swerved a bit to miss badger holes and mounds. The heavy, fog-like mist was, fast disappearing. Far beyond, the mountains. \ TED'S RACE FOR LIFE 89? all ghost-like, towered upward. How far he was from the village, he could not guess; possibly a dozen miles, but he was not sure. On long, hard chases he had ridden before, at least one was still fresh in his mind. ' That such speed as he now wasi flying would soon wind his horse, he fully knew; so, talking gently to Roanie, he began tightening the reign. He was a mile or more from the bluffs of the river before he turned to have a look at his pursuers. Astonished almost to bewilderment, he saw no Indians, everything behind was clear. "They've had trouble at the river!" he exclaimed half aloud. Pulling up his horse a bit, he rode more leisurely, but still going at a lively gallop. "I guess they knew they couldn't catch Roanie," and he leaned forward and stroked the faithful animal''s neck. "There'll certainly be something doing when they return to camp empty handed," he continued. Again he sent his eyes on every side, but no Indians, not a living thing in any direction. Then all of a sudden, he remembered his former capture. "Possibly the Indians are following some hidden ravine again," he exclaimed, at the same time loosening the rein and sending his horse with more speed. Anxious, almost beyond power to think effectively, he sent his well trained eyes over the range on every side, and doubly so toward the breaks of the river. Suddenly he was startled, far in the lead there appeared what seemed to be two galloping horsemen, rising and falling along the sky line. Then, to his joy, he made them out to be two large black crows in the distance, flapping along the horizon. It is peculiar how such birds, seen in the mist beyond, so nearly resemble moving horsemen. Al- most anything could now happen, and he felt he wouldn't be surprised. Mile after mile past low hills and shallow hollows they clattered. Swiftly, but stealthily, out from behind a line of mounds and bluffs, some two or three miles away, raced four riders. Ted was horrified! He saw the break-neck speed at which they were rushing to cut off his lead and chances for safety. "I'll pull toward the mountains," he half cried in his fearfulness, "then they'll have to ride within a mile of the village to cut me off." So saying, he quickly swung his horse farther to the eastward. Roanie seemed to sense the danger. He needed no urging. "Surely someone will see us," the boy rightfully reasoned, "see our race and know something is wrong." It was not so to be, however, for all the villagers were at church, this Thanksgiving morning. Much to Ted's relief, two of the Indian ponies were lagging; and, already, were figured out of the race. Would the others do likewise? Their animals had raced farther and a little faster, besides carrying more than double Roanie's load. Swiftness, yet, might turn the tables toward him. His horse showed no signs of ex- haustion and ran with resolute firmness. As they sped over the ground, Ted again leaned forward, patting his horse's neck and talking confidently to him. Roanie nodded his nose somewhat, gave a little whinny, as if saying. "We'll make it! We'll make it!" 898 IMPROVEMENT ERA Ted did not know, then, that Roanie also was racing home: — back to freedom and the place of his birth. He, too, had been stolen the very Sunday of conference, six months before, the day before Ted had left for the river. The race was now fast drawing to a climax! The two Sioux, not two minutes ahead, were plainly coming between the boy and the village. By urging their weary ponies to their very utmost, they would soon be just ahead and in his direct path. Leveling his eye at his enemy, as they leaned close to their horses, Ted was doing his best to make out their indentity, when sud- denly they raised a little. One look was .sufficient. His former captors, firm and set, were before him — Deer Foot and Wolf Head! A sickening, mental echo of the past few months flew through his vision. Then followed thoughts of failure, accompanied 'with anticipated sorrows, all- whirled fanciful and ghost-like before his staring eyes. With so dulling a sensation was he struck that, for the moment, he seemed gripped fast with perplexing despair. He felt himself racing — speeding — possibly toward grim death. A gnawing sorrow sapped his strength. In this moment of intense anguish, remembering home and mother, he cried half aloud, "O Father in heaven, please help us. Bless Roanie and me!" Having expressied his inmost soul, he felt somewhat relieved. A moment later, a rather strengthening, sustaining feeling flushed over him. Faster and deeper raced his courage. Filled with this new firmness and supporting vigor, he tore forward, almost de- fiantly. A fortitude unknown to him previously, clothed him in boldness. On he flew like a young David to the fray! This changed attitude not only heightened his own fearlessness, but it seemed to have impressed his charging steed as well. Horses are won't to be as brave as their masters. Quick as a flash, he flipped the tiny rope-rein up, over the horse's head, between its cars and back along its neck to his hand. He must leave nothing dangling for a help to the foe. With this loose- ning of the rein, the big roan swerved a bit and shot, arrow-like, showing an amazing burst of speed, on a bee-line toward home and the enemy. With simultaneous movement, the other horsemen whirled their racing ponies head-long toward the charging pair; then rising upon their horses with arms swinging high and furiously, and cunningly maneuvering in a manner known only to th? Redman, the two riders, hot with anger, screeched shrill, blood-curdling war- whoops that at any other moment would have halted and stampeded a battalion. But not so now! With bounding leaps, the courageous roan fairly shot into the conflict. Ready for the fierce struggle, Ted flatly clinched himself to his dashing horse. In that second of excitement he saw the determined dare-devils, Deer Foot and Wolf Head, suddenly whirl themselves and ponies broad-side, directly before the very nose of Roanie." That instant lively things happened, An TED'S RACE FOR LIFE 899 impelling collision and smashing mix-up, mingled with shouting riders and plunging horses, produced a thrilling battle-scene not soon to be forgotten. Ted saw one horse and rider before him, sprawling on the frozen ground. His own horse, half down, now plunged forward over the struggling body of Deer Foot. Ted closed his eyes as the clattering feet of his horse brought cries of pain from the half-senseless antagonist beneath him. Roanie righted himself quickly on all fours and again flew toward safety, like a frightened partridge. "Go it, Roanie! Go it, go it! We've beaten 'em surely this time!" cried the triumphant lad. A moment later he ventured to look back. There on the frosty battle-ground, huddled in a heap, was Deer Foot, with Wolf Head leaning over him. Close • i-side the pair, two panting ponies, jaded and fatigued, with head: lowered and ears drooping waited in silence. The program at the rock meeting house was ju>. finished. Thoughts of savory odors of sweet-meats and baking turkey whetted the appetite of old and young alike. Suddenly the patter of hoofs filled the air! "An Indian boy!" was the first alarming shout. Then as the rider raced right up to the church steps and came to a sudden stop, a new cry arose, — "It's Ted! It's Ted!" they fairly screamed in unison. Out through the door tumbled fathers, mothers, children, and grandparents. Sought by old and young, Ted was fairly snatched from Roanie's back and carried in the arms of everyone, including a weeping mother; while, at the same time with extraordinary genius, he tried to answer a hundred questions, fired in score-like collections. The Day is Done Behind the tall, majestic mountains in the west, The sun sinks low to hide her golden light; The shadows glide like thieves from cliff to cliff, And all the land around awaits the night. The weary tiller of the soil plods slowly home, His manly frame is stooped, his head is low; Before him plays his young and sturdy son, With eyes still bright and rosy cheeks aglow. Along the winding path the cows meander home; Their bells chime low, sweet music as they walk; Far up among the shadows of the deep ravines, The shepherd sings to gather in his flock. Slowly the soft, red glow dies in the azure sky, As fast behind the mountains sinks the sun, And weary nature heaves her tired sigh; She seems to say again, "The day is done." Clifton, Idaho BEATRICE WILLIAMS