arrangements.
        Accordingly, arrangements were made and the two met each other without the knowledge of Father Steadman. Father promised that he would make another trip, pick her up, and take her to Charleston. She could see the home and meet all the family. She could then make up her mind if she wanted to make such a venture as marriage, and assume the responsibility and care of a large family. So, Aunt Jane visited us in our home.
        We liked her and were as good as we could be while she visited with us. Would that all could be as good as we were those few days. Sisters Sarah and Eliza agreed to help her all they could. Well, we son. As things turned out, Jane had gone away from the Steadman home with out the father’s consent. She was not welcome at the father’s home any longer. The father would not speak to her anymore. He was mad at the mother, his own wife and would not talk with her anymore. Little did he say to others of the family. Thus, he lived in almost seclusion for years.
        Father and Aunt Jane helped the other girls, one by one, to find husbands and the following young men all found wives. John C. Hartle, William H. North, and Albert North.
        Mother Steadman was a fine woman. She stayed at our home long enough that we became intimately acquainted with her. To know her was to love her. When father and Aunt Jane went to the Manti Temple to get married, he drove the two horse buggy to Provo, then took the train to Manti. I stayed at Provo and took care of the team. I enjoyed that visit very much. Each day I went to town and could look in at the show windows. In one window were some beautiful watches. How I would have liked to have had one. At a grocery store I saw a bunch of bananas hanging from the ceiling and I wondered what they were. I thought I would rather have an orange. We always had oranges for Christmas.

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS AFTER MOTHER DIED

        I remember the first Christmas after mother died. I hung up my stockings on Christmas eve as was our custom, but mother was not there. I arose early in the morning and found a long stick in my stocking, nothing else. I cried, but I still thought it only a joke. I went to my father, thinking he could tell me where Santa had left something for me. Father replied, "Never mind my boy, you can have some of my candy." Thus passed the first Christmas after my mother’s death, disappointed and in sorrow. I didn’t know I was such a bad boy. I really wanted to be good. I wanted to grow up to be respected by the ones I loved. I think that few people loved their home and family more than I.

MORE HERDING SHEEP