"Yes, it's all roses and sunshine now ma'am, but times there was when it wasn't jes' like this," remarked one old lady, shaking her head thoughtfully.
"That's true, Sister Anne," spoke up old Brother Jacobson. "We've known the time, when only thorns grew!"
"Now, that is just what I want you to tell me about. I'm just longing to hear about those by-gone days—why you came here, and what you found.—Do, someone, begin, please!" urged Mrs. Catt, sweetly.
One thin, erect, old lady, with a quick, bright eye, turned to Mrs. Catt with a smile.
"Sister Anne and Brother Jacobson may have suffered from the thorns, but I can't say that I did. What did I come for? For the faith, of course, as we all did. I walked eight hundred miles, pushing a cart, and I tell you, ma'am, every mile was too short for the faith! And when I got here? Every burden was too light to bear for the sake of the glorious truth, and the Lord has blessed me with children, and grand-children, and health, but I'd been glad to go on suffering for the glory of the gospel!"
There was a silence after this burst of enthusiasm, and Mrs. Catt eyed the woman as if studying some strange species.
"And your faith carried you through everything, joyously?" she asked, credulously.
"Yes, the Lord upheld me always."
"Did you bring up a large family?" asked the Easterner curiously.
"Yes, thirteen children. My husband has gone ahead of me awhile, but I'm glad to stay as long as God wills. With such a big, happy family, one couldn't be lonesome, you know."