On Monday, April 8, 1878, I walked to Clifford Mesne, twelve miles, and found Brother Wadley and family well. My wife wrote:
"Orderville, February 20, 1878. Dear Husband: Your favor of January 18th came today. I can truly say it is a kind and good letter. It gives me new courage, and I feel more determined to press on, in the straight and narrow path.
"Several things have happened today, causing me to feel well: your letter and a good one from father, and Hattie's new dress. She is much pleased; but poor little Mary—her lips are put up, and tears are in her eyes. I tell her it will be her turn next.
"Frank's cough is still very bad. Last, week we received the parcel you sent by Brother Leigh. William is so pleased with his knife. He carries it in his pocket in the day time, and sleeps with it in his hand at night.
"The children are having a dance tonight. Roy and Hattie have gone. They took hold of hands, and walked off together so kindly. They seem to think a great deal of each other, and I am proud to see them.
"You have been gone ten months, and my babe is walking around, by holding on to the chairs. He is so intelligent, and has such bright blue eyes. As for teaching my children to pray, I have always done so, since they were old enough to talk, and I generally pray with them night and morning.
"I am trying to do right, and I intend to improve as fast as I can in all good things. I am thankful that I am here in Orderville. I have never felt discouraged. Last night I dreamed that you and father both came home. I thought you had been gone just eleven months. As ever, your wife, Tamar B. Young."
April 11, 1878, from my journal: Last night I stayed with Brother and Sister Thomas Newman. As they had but one bed, I sat up all night in a wooden-bottomed chair; but I got some sleep, and dreamed that I saw an elderly woman apparently lost in the woods—and a person told me to go and get her, for she was ready to go to Zion.
In the morning I asked Sister Alice Newman if there was an aged sister in the Church living in the branch that I had not seen. She said, "Mother Jaynes lives about six miles from here, in an out-of-the-way place that no Elder has visited for the past four years." "Well," said I, "I want you to tell me the way, as I must see her and get her emigration money."
This amused Sister Newman: for Sister Jaynes had been living on the parish for over twenty years. It was a dark, rainy day; but Sister Newman put on her cloak and walked across the fields with me. We found the old lady gathering bits of sticks from the hedge. I asked her to go to the house, make a good fire, and give us some refreshments. When we had warmed and rested, I told her I had come to get her emigration money.