Improvement Era, March 1930

THE IMPROVEMENT ERA 3^ Vol. 33-41 MARCH, 1930 No. 5 His Father's House FRED Warfield stood at the window of the small, plain- ly furnished room looking out into the rain. It was a dis- mal day. Just another of the many dreary ones that had fol- lowed one another endlessly dur- ing the past month. There had been but once in all those four weeks when the sun had man- aged an appearance; and then, as if ashamed to linger, and after but a moment's reflection, it disap- peared. He turned to his companion, who sat reading in a nearby chair. "Bert, I've been thinking pretty hard lately, and I'm about at the end of my rope. Everything seems to have gone wrong with me here; everywhere, for that matter. Not that I mind that so much — when I came away on my mission I expected it. But — "he paused. R. ,OBERT was the younger of the two. He had had far less experience than Fred, but he was wise enough to have been aware that a heavy burden had been weighing heavily on his friend for days. "I have felt that you were quite upset over some- thing, old man," said Robert, "but didn't say anything because I knew you would tell me about it if you wanted me to know. I have wish- ed I could help you, though. What's the trouble?" "It's about Mother, mostly. You remember that letter I got from home this morning?" ''Yes." "Well, it was from Mother. She's been having an awfully hard time, I guess. You know Father died several years ago, and Mother and I have been trying since then to live decently on her small in- <By LEWIS J. WALLACE come. She insisted that I remain in school. And then nothing would do but that I fill a mission. I wanted to work and help her a while first; try to make her com- fortable if I could. She wouldn't listen. And here I am." "But your mission is almost finished, Fred," interrupted Rob- ert. "Six months more," replied Fred, in a tone indicating that six months was an eternity to him. "Six months more. It might as well be six years. When things go to smash there is no waiting six months. I simply must go home, Bert. riAS anything hap- pened to your mother?" inquired Robert anxiously. "Not exactly. But she has been ill for some time and hasn't told me. Maity, a young neighbor girl, slipped a note in the envelope with Mother's letter when she posted it for her, telling me as much as she could. Mother has been practically starving herself to send me jinoney, so Dr. Williams told Maity. She's too proud to accept help. The bishop offered, but knew better than to insist. Mother's queer that way." As he talked he began dressing to go out. "You're not leaving this min- ute?" queried Bert, amazedly. "Where are you going in this rain? "I won't be gone long. I want to see the district president at once and tell him I'm leaving. He will want to get in touch with mission headquarters. And I can't 'phone him." R« .OBERT jumped to his feet. "You're not going to walk to Pikesville in this storm?" he cried. "Why not?" said Fred, calmly, as he started for the door. It was evident he was not to be dissuad- ed. Robert motioned for him to wait while he, too, dressed. His only comment was, "You're out of your head." They found the district presi- dent in. "You realize, Brother Warfield," he said sympathetical- ly, when he had been apprised of Fred's plans, "what a serious step this is?" "Yes," was the quiet reply, "I realize only too well." 'Your mother hasn't sent for you, has she?" continued his su- perior. "No. That is just the trouble. She wouldn't. Maity told me the doctor expected to have her taken