Ever since the arrival of the Elders, the Chittendens had opened their house for them to hold meetings in on Sundays. No other place had ever been obtained, so that the meetings of the Saints, or those who were friendly to them, were still held in Mary's cosy sitting-room.
On the 1st of Nov. 1854, Mary had another daughter whom they named Alice. In two weeks she was up and able to be about the house. The Sunday on which the baby was two weeks old, the family had taken dinner, the things had been washed and set away, and all sat in the dining or sitting-room talking of gathering to Zion.
They had eight girls now, and it would take quite a sum of money to emigrate them all to Utah. So thinking to increase their means a trifle, Mary had taken a little motherless boy, about seven years old, his father paying a certain amount a week for his board. This was money and they would never miss his board as they raised everything which they consumed. This little boy was very troublesome and mischievous. He was very fond of playing out in the hired men's bedroom which was over the granary.
On the Sunday of which I am speaking, he was out in the men's room, and there found some matches. He thought he'd have some rare fun then, so out he ran, matches in hand, and made what he called a "pretty fire," right down close to the pig pens. He watched it burn up, quietly at first, and then—whew!—here is a jolly little breeze catches up the flame, and carries it bravely up right on to the roof of the pig-pen. Then how it did sputter, and crackle, and leap. The boy was old enough to see by that time, that something more than a bit of mischief would grow out of that tiny flame. It spread over the pens like a living thing. Frightened now, he sped away, down to the nearest farm-house, running in and shouting to the gentleman, Mr. Root who lived there, "I didn't set the pig-styes on fire; I struck a match, and it blowed."
Mr. Root hitched up his horse to his water-budge, a cask on wheels which he carried water from a lake near the Chittendens' house, and started on the run for the scene of the boy's wickedness. The Chittendens saw him pass their door running to the lagoon or lake. "I'll declare," said Mary, "is Mr. Root going for water on Sunday? I never knew him to do such a thing before!"
Just then Eliza ran in and said, "Father, the shed is full of smoke."
She had been down to gather eggs from the shed.
The barn, pig-styes, cow sheds, granary, poultry houses and stacks were all at the back of the house and about six rods away.
At last, William got up to go down to the shed to see what was the matter.
When he looked out of the back door, what a sight met his eyes—the whole yard in flames! Others had seen the fire, for the farm-house faced the public-road, and people were all passing there on their road to Chapel. But no one except Mr. Root ever offered a hand of help.