When first moving into their little, home Lydia had put all the cows but one out upon the range. The following very remarkable instance, is an example of what God will do for those who gladly keep His laws:

The one cow left at home stood out in the open air, staked a little way from the house. One morning in December Lydia awoke to find herself surrounded by a mountain of snow.

"Oh the cow!" said Lydia, as she sprang from her bed; "boys, something must be done."

Hurriedly dressing, she went to the door, and there stood the faithful beast, cold and shivering, and there was not a spear of feed to give her.

"Boys, take this blanket," said Lydia taking a heavy, warm, home-made blanket from her bed, "and go down to Bro. Drake, who lives in the Second Ward. I knew him in the Ponca camp, and something whispers to me that he will let us have some feed for the cow. Tell him I would like to get enough of some kind of feed to last until this storm is over, and we can turn the poor thing out. This blanket is a good, almost new one, and should be worth part of a load."

The boys hastened down to Bro. Drake's, and in a little while Lydia was pleased and surprised to see them returning in a wagon, which was well loaded with feed.

You may be sure Lydia thanked and blessed her kind friend; the boys went to work and made a pen of poles which they had hauled for wood, and soon had "bossie" in a warm place.

In the course of a few days, Lydia was able to churn, getting just about a pound of butter. When it was all worked over, she said to the children who had watched the operation with much interest.

"Now children, what shall we do? Here is just about a pound of butter; we may not be able to get the tenth from the cow, and shall we pay this, the first pound for tithing, or will we eat this and trust to luck to get the tenth?"

"Pay this for tithing," answered all the children with one breath. "We can do without, mother, till you churn again."

So the butter was taken to the tithing office; and that Winter Lydia paid tithing on forty pounds of butter, from that cow who was a "stripper;" (had no calf for two years,) and furthermore, the cow never got a spear of feed but what Bro. Drake had brought, it having lasted until the grass grew in the Spring.

As Lydia has since told me, she has made it a firm rule to pay the first instead of the tenth of everything for tithing, commencing always with New Year's day. "And," added she in relating this circumstance, "I have never been without batter in the house from that day to this."

Spring came and went, Summer passed, and Lydia was still teaching.

Let me copy Lydia's own words about the next events of her life.

"Some time in the Fall of '51, a friend by the name of John Dalton proposed to become my protector for this life, if I wished him to do so. He had a farm six miles from the city, which he had no one to live upon, as his first wife lived in the city in a comfortable home. Said I could think of it, and sometime he would call again. This was a new idea to me; for since my dear Newel's death, I had never thought of marrying again. It had been all my study to take care of our little ones, and try to teach them those principles which would prepare them for usefulness in this life, and to meet their father in eternity, so that we might be an unbroken family in the future state of existence.

"What should I do? What would be for our best good?

"My boys had to go from home to get work, and the responsibilities upon me were very heavy. I prayed, I sought to do for the best. I had always believed in the principle of celestial marriage, since I received a testimony of its truth in an early day from the Prophet Joseph's teachings. I have heard him teach it in public as well as in private; have heard him relate the incident of the angel coming to him with a drawn sword, commanding him to obey the law, or he should lose his priesthood as well as his life if he did not go forward in this principle; and I had received a strong testimony of its truth when under the Prophet's teachings. The spirit seemed to whisper to me, you can now test your belief by practice. What would be for the best for my children? If we were situated on a farm, it would give them employment, always at home; and the change would relieve me of many cares and burdens which were fast growing too much for my strength. My constant prayer was, 'Oh Lord give me wisdom to do that which will by Thy will!' At last, I concluded to accept."

Lydia soon found herself, after accepting the proposition, situated on a farm, with plenty of labor for herself and family. She moved in September, '51. In December, '52, a girl was born to her, whom she called Artemesia.

Nearly five years were spent upon this farm, and at the end of that time, Lydia returned to her home in the city; Mr. Dalton having expressed a desire for her to do so. He said she had performed all the labors required of her in an acceptable manner, but she was welcome now to return home.

She had lived under the celestial law, and had found no more trials than she could bear, and she thus gives her testimony concerning the principle:

"It may be some will enquire of me, 'how do you like plurality after living in it and getting the experience you desired? What are your feelings now?' I will say I like it first-rate; my belief is strengthened; I do beleive it is a principle that if not abused, will purify and exalt those that enter into it with purity of purpose, and so abide therein."

On her return to the city, she took up school again, and the people were very glad to have her do so. She began to teach the Ward school in the Spring of '56.

In the early Spring of '58, when rumors of Johnson's army began to come like a blasting air upon these peaceful mountain homes, Pres. Young called out a standing army to prepare for future emergencies. Lydia's oldest daughter, Sally, had married a young man named Zemira Palmer, some two years previous to this, and they were living in Provo. This young man was called to act as a soldier in this standing army, and he wrote to Lydia, asking her if she would not come and live with her daughter, the boys taking charge of the farm. She complied. But very shortly afterwards the standing army was disorganized. Pres. Young had decided to make a complete move from the city, going south, so that when the army should come in, they would find nothing but desolation and lonliness.

The general excitement caused many weak and doubtful spirits to quiver with affright. Among the rest, an old man living in Provo, named Hoops, had become so alarmed that he was determined to leave Utah at any cost.

One morning Zemira came in and said, "Well Sally, old man Hoops is going to sell out if he can, give out if he can't sell out, and get out whether or not. He has a good farm, a city lot and tolerably good house, but nothing will keep him here."

As he ceased speaking, the spirit whispered to Lydia, "The hand of the Lord is in this. Because of your faithfulness in the past, you shall have a good home. Go, and you shall obtain this for yourself and children."

Presently she said quietly to James who was with her:

"Are you acquainted with this old gentleman, Hoops?"

"Yes, mother; why?"

"Zemira will not need us here now, and as we do not wish to return to the city in the present state of things, I thought perhaps we might be able to buy this place of the old man."

"Why, mother, all we have would not begin to buy the place. It's worth several hundred dollars. It would be an imposition to ask the old man to take a wagon and what few other things we could give him. I could not bring my feelings to consent to such an imposition."

Lydia felt that she knew that when she listened to the guidings of that Spirit which had so often prompted her, that she had always succeeded and been prospered; and she was sure, although it looked hopeless, that she would succeed now.

Waiting a little while, she next asked Zemira if he would go with her and introduce her to Bro. Hoops.

With a peculiar smile he answered,

"Yes, mother, I will go with you, if you really wish it, but I have no faith that you can possibly get the place."

They went down to the old man's place and Lydia stated to him the object of her visit. He asked her what she had, and as she named over the various articles she could turn out, he said:

"That's just what I want."

And when she had told him all she had to give, he eagerly answered, "It's a bargain."

So she was once more in possession of a good home.

Just before leaving the city for Provo, Lydia had gone to President Young and stated her circumstances in full to him, and asked if he knew any reason why she should not have a divorce from Mr. Dalton. She had then been separated from him for some time The President did not know anything to prevent her being a free woman, and accordingly gave her a legal divorce. So she was once more alone and battling with life without earthly aid.

Her farm was a good one, and with the valuable assistance of her boys, she soon became comfortable.

A widower, named McClellan, was living at this time in Payson who had two motherless girls, aged eleven and thirteen. He was comfortably situated, and, becoming acquainted with Lydia, he very much admired her kind, motherly ways and general thriftiness, and he besought her to unite her fortunes with his and be a mother to his girls who had been orphaned about two years previously.

Lydia was not very willing to once more embark upon the perilous sea of matrimony. Her heart was buried with her husband, and no love ever had or ever could waken it to life. She had had a sorrowful experience in that state with Mr. Dalton, and as she was now getting in years, being upwards of fifty, she shrank from again taking a wife's burdens upon her. Still, her heart yearned over the little helpless, motherless girls. Finally, after much serious thought, she again accepted an earthly companion, and joined her fate, for time, with James McClellan.

They moved to Payson in '60, where his farm was situated. Two or three years after this Bro. McClellan was called south, and Lydia moved with him, leaving Jesse and Hyrum with their brother James in Provo. They settled at the Santa Clara, and soon became very nicely fixed.

In the Fall of 71, Lydia's brother, Jesse, wrote to her that their father and mother were both dead, and, as there was some property to be divided among the children, she had better visit the old homestead where he lived and get her share.

She therefore went east and was treated very kindly by her brothers and sisters and enjoyed herself quite well. As her share she received $1,500, and then returned home.

On the 1st of January, 1877, work was commenced in the St. George temple. President Young called upon Lydia to act as one of the workers. Circumstances beyond her control did not permit her to go until the Fall of '77, when she entered the sacred walls as one of the regular attendants.

In the Winter of '79-80 Brother McClellan's health failed altogether, and on the 10th of February, 1880, he died. Thus, after a companionship of twenty years, Lydia was once more a widow. The work in the temple, however, was so constant and pleasant that she could not feel lonely.

In 1882 Lydia purchased a piece of property in St. George and has there settled. She shut up her house in Santa Clara, and manages to live quite comfortably with the proceeds of her little estate.

She is all alone, as Samuel lives in Santa Clara; Sally and Lydia, with their husbands, in Orderville; Newel, in Provo; James, Jesse and Artemesia, in Payson; Joseph went to Arizona and died there four years ago, and Hyrum died at Payson three years ago unmarried.

Her posterity are numerous; they outnumber that of her eleven brothers and sisters put together. She has upwards of eighty children, grand-children and great grand-children, and is proud of her labors and the "helps" she has raised to assist in the upbuilding of this kingdom.

When the relief society was organized by the Prophet Joseph in Nauvoo, Lydia was one of its active members, and from that time until now she has almost continuously labored in one of these societies.

In the old-time fairs she has often taken prizes for the production of her hands. She has always taken a very active interest in sericulture since its introduction into this territory. There is now on exhibition in the Philadelphia silk rooms several silk skeins of various colors so well spun and twisted as to be indistinguishable from the imported article; also nets, mits, etc., of Lydia's make.

Her labors in the temple are constant and full of the greatest joy and pleasure. She has labored there as a work-hand 621 days, has received endowments for over 700 of her dead and those of her friends; and has blessed many sick, sorrowful and afflicted. Shall I paint a little scene of almost daily occurrence during the past season in St. George?

Tall trees shade a modest house so deeply set in its leafy frame that the passer-by scarcely discerns its shape. Birds sing in their bright green home, and the grass hides many a harmless insect. The dewy freshness of the morning shimmers on every bough and grassy hillock. The chickens cluck over their morning meal; the cow stands in her cosy shed, happy with her dewy green breakfast and chewing the cud in contentment.

Out of the front door steps a brisk little woman with so blithe an air, and free a step that you are surprised to look under the veiled bonnet and find a kind, withered face surrounded with a silvery halo of pure white hair. The firm lines around the mouth are rather deepened with experience, but the lips wear that pleasant half-smile seen on the faces of the cheerful; the blue eyes, a little dimmed with age and tears, but full of a sunny light; and the expression so soft and sweet that little children love to kiss the dear old face. Over the path goes she, and steps into the waiting temple carriage before the clock strikes eight; her house as neat as wax, everything about her clean, happy and well fed. This is Lydia, now seventy-one years old, and living alone, but for the beloved spirits of Newel and her children who often visit her in dreams and visions. She has earned her present peace and rest, and to-day, as it passes, is but the one link less between her and her longed-for, eternal home with her beloved husband. But it is a very golden link, for it is gilded with precious blessings and privileges but few mortals enjoy. She blesses and is blessed.

And here let us leave her, with the prayer to know and greet her when we shall be united on the glorious resurrection day!

[Transcriber's note: Inconsistent spellings retained as printed.]