FATHER JOHN PARKIN A PUGILIST—DEFENDS A MORMON ELDER—SHELTERS HIM FROM A STORM AND LEARNS SOMETHING OF MORMONISM—WHOLE FAMILY EMBRACE THE GOSPEL.

Brother Parkin recalls some incidents of his childhood, that tend especially to illustrate the character of his father, and the effect of the Gospel in shaping the lives of individuals.

His father was a pugilist—by instinct rather than by profession though—for he did not follow it for a living. He was not a large man, but had a closely knit, muscular frame, no surplus flesh, was about as active as a cat and possessed unbounded courage. While not of a quarrelsome nature, he just naturally enjoyed a scrap.

He taught his older sons "the manly art of self defense," and gave them to understand that he had no patience with molycoddles. He didn't want them to pick a quarrel, but if any one ever attempted to impose on them, or their friends, he expected them to give a good account of themselves. He would be ashamed to have any body who bore his name ever show the white feather.

The father was passing along the street of his native hamlet in England one day when his attention was attracted by a rather large and noisy crowd of people who were, as he learned on joining them, listening to a local "Mormon" Elder advocate his doctrines, with frequent and noisy interruptions. The interruptions he soon found were mainly made by three preachers, one a Baptist, another a Methodist and the third a Church of England minister. He recognized these when he saw them, for they were well known and somewhat popular in their special lines of religion, but the "Mormon" Elder was a stranger to him; in fact, he had never before met a "Mormon," or heard or read of "Mormon" doctrines. He had not listened long when his sense of fairness became so outraged by the sneering, ridiculing, captious interruptions by the preachers, and the laughter of their sympathizing auditors, that he pushed his way into the center of the crowd and asked the lone "Mormon" Elder to allow him to say a few words.

The privilege being granted, he told the crowd that he was not a preacher, and knew nothing about the doctrines this man was preaching, but he believed in free speech, and fair play, and thought the man ought to be allowed to tell what he had to say without interruptions. Then if the preachers could controvert it, they might fairly do so.

His remarks had the effect of quelling the disturbance momentarily, but the Elder had scarcely resumed his speaking when the preachers, apparently bent upon not allowing him to proceed, burst forth again with their interruptions.

With indignation now thoroughly aroused, Mr. Parkin shook his fist in the faces of the preachers and demanded fair play. "I don't know this man," said he, "but he looks and talks decently, and he's got to have a hearing, if I have to smash the men that interrupt him."

The Baptist preacher had a wooden leg, and perhaps presumed upon that in being the first to cry out in ridicule when the "Mormon" again essayed to proceed.

Grabbing him by the collar and shaking him, Mr. Parkin angrily demanded, "Are you going to compel me to hit you, even though you are a cripple? Now keep your mouth shut, or I'll have to do it!"

He had scarcely let loose of the preacher's collar when a stalwart son of the preacher rushed out from the crowd and made a pass at him with his brawny fist; but Mr. Parkin saw the movement, and, nimbly dodging the blow, struck out with his good right hand with such force that his big assailant went down as if he had been hit with a sledge hammer.

While friendly hands began fanning the youth and throwing water in his face to resuscitate him, Mr. Parkin with blood boiling and eyes flashing defiance, proceeded to deliver this challenge to the whole crowd in true bantam fashion: "Come on now, all of you, one at a time, and I'll whip the crowd!"

None of them chose to accept the challenge. On the contrary, they neither manifested any disposition to fight him or further listen to the preaching, for they soon dispersed, their departure being doubtless hastened by a brisk shower just then coming on.

Turning to the "Mormon" Elder, Mr. Parkin inquired: "Where do you live?"

"At Langley Mills, nine miles from here," was the reply.

"You can't go home in this shower; you had better walk home with me," said the pugilist, and his invitation was accepted.

The shower didn't pass as soon as expected; but rather increased in severity as night approached, and it became apparent that the guest must be provided with lodgings, as the family hadn't the heart to turn him out in such a storm. Then, too, there was another reason for it—they had become somewhat interested in listening to his explanations of his belief, the doctrines being all new to them.

The eldest son, a boy about ten years old, solved the question of lodging by offering to give up his bed, and the mother helped out the matter by arranging for the boy to occupy an improvised bed in the room in which his parents slept.

When the time for retiring arrived the stranger asked, as a special favor, the privilege of praying with the family, and the father replied to this by the declaration that he was not a religious man, that he was a pugilist, a cock-fighter, a man who didn't believe in prayer and had no regard for things which others considered sacred; but if it would afford him any gratification, they would be willing to listen to him pray.

The prayer was offered, and in it the guest thanked the Lord that he had found one man who would accept the truth.

The eldest son, the boy who gave up his bed for the stranger to sleep in, recalls hearing his father ask his wife some time after retiring for the night, what the man could have meant by alluding, in his prayer, to one man whom he had found in that town who would accept the truth. She said she had no idea what man he had in mind, and the husband told her he would find out by asking him the next morning. And ask him he did, the next morning, and was not a little surprised when the Elder turned and, pointing to him, said, "You are the man, for I am sure you will yet embrace the Gospel!"

That local Elder (whose name was Aaron Nelson, and who afterwards migrated to Utah, and died only a few years since in St. George) continued to come every Wednesday and hold meetings in Loscoe, and Mr. Parkin generally attended his meetings and stood by him, to see that he got fair play.

Finally, at the close of one of the meetings Mr. Parkin asked the privilege of making an announcement. Consent being granted, he said: "I want to give out notice (Elder Nelson being willing) that on Wednesday night next I will be baptised by him, at Loscoe Dam, for I have become convinced that 'Mormonism' is true."

He was deliberate about embracing it, but he was as true to it thereafter as ever needle was to the pole.

The family all embraced the Gospel and came to Utah, and the manner in which they first became interested in and were led to investigate "Mormonism" furnished a theme for many a fireside conversation.

As an indication of the effect the Gospel had upon the elder Parkin it may be mentioned that after he joined the Church he generously entertained all the missionaries who visited his part of the country, made them presents, and went to the limit of his ability in manifesting his love for them and his interest in the work in which they were engaged.