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Published by the

Y. L. M. I. A. of Kansas City, Mo.

A collection of scientific and palatable recipes
from the best cooks of the Latter-day Saints in the
Central Stake of Zion.

Photographs of the Temple Lot, Jackson Co.
Court House and Jail in which the Prophet Joseph
was incarcerated and tried, the Independence, Mo.
Chapel, Mission Home, and Zion's Printing and Pub-
lishing Establishment, President and Sister S. O.
Bennion and the officers of the Y. L. M. I. A.

Printed on Egg-Shell DeLuxe paper, White Kar-
atol cover (washable), three tape binding.
Price $1.00, postage prepaid

Zion's Printing & Publishing Co.
Independence, Mo.

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Perfect Health
Brings Perfect
BUILD up those wasted
tissues by using more of
the pure, wholesome SEGO

To the busy housewife it is of
great benefit to have several
cans of SEGO MILK on hand.
For a good, quick meal, try
this menu:

Sego Tomato Soup.
Scalloped Potatoes.

Beef Steak.

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Marriage Prayer

By Lucile Talmage Carlisle,

I would have beauty to charm him and fire him,
Thoughts, white as feathers, to calm and inspire him,
Music enough to fill four little walls,
Visions to struggle for-love over all.
Hands not too white for the day's stern request—
Let me know toiling and triumph and rest,
Blessed contentment in small things and poor,
Lifting my eyes from the world's golden lure.
Make me forgiving of small, driftless wounds-
Give me his heart to read-keep mine attuned.
Let not the years pass and leave us alone,
Grant us Thy Miracle, all for our own.
Let me be brave in the anguish of giving,
Smiling and proud for the glory of living.
Give me a song when the morning is gold,
Give me a smile when toiling is old,
Warmth in my handclasp for dusk, chill and gray,
Prayers and a dream at the close of the day.




Organ of the Young Ladies' Mutual Improvement Associations.



Peppermint Council

By Agnes Lovendahl

Grandma settled among the chintz cushions of her kitchen rocker and put her feet on the lowered oven door. She had a bag of peppermints in her apron pocket and a paper to doze over. With specs pushed up to the little round bob on top of her head, she could close her eyes and rock contentedly, waiting for Jenny to rush in, chilled and snowy, to "surprise" her. It was their game each evening when Jenny came from work.

"Grandma! Grandma! I've got some chicken feed for your chickens!"

Grandma started, chuckled, and hurried to the door.

"Sakes o' goodness! Easy now. Billy, that's a big pail even for a man like you. How did your ma ever come to have so many scraps?"

Billy, lacking a Grandma of his own, came to her for sympathy and pennies and bandages and cookies and all the other things which Grandmas alone understand. And each day, faithfully, he brought scraps for her chickens.

"It's a braw cold wind!" Grandma laughed and shivered as she put his cap and coat by the stove to dry.

"Got any sugar cakes?" Billy clung to her skirts while she tugged at his stubborn rubbers.

She did have sugar cakes, and she knew a story too, so Billy was soon cozy in her lap, listening, wide-eyed,

No. 1

to tales of the things they did when Grandma was a girl.

After the story Billy sat silent for a full minute-a long, long time for him. He squirmed. He twisted his fingers up in a piece of string, and then unwound them.

"You didn't look inside the pail," he remarked finally, with pretended nonchalance.

"Why, no, so I didn't! Is there a surprise there?" Grandma chuckled and lifted the lid a trifle.

"You better not look-"

Grandma wondered if she had given the little fellow too many cookies he did look pale.

"I stole it." His voice was faint. Grandma hastily looked inside. There, filling half the pail, was a fresh loaf of bread.

"I just had to bring some scraps, and there wasn't many and mama said she couldn't be feeding chickens with things so 'spensive and it was just baked-and I thought they'd like it," spluttered Billy. "And now I'm scared. I wouldn't care," he bragged, "if she'd lick me-but she just stands there and talks. 'Do you think that was right'-that's what she says, for hours and hours. Gosh!"

Billy rested his chin on his palms and stared ahead.

"Mercy me, what a problem!" Grandma's face was serious and her

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skirt with the lace waist-the latter only slightly mended.

She considered and decided and changed her mind. Never, since Aunt Millie's funeral, had she been to such an important affair. "I'll ask Jenny."

She climbed to a chair and with the broom poked down a hat-box from the top of the cupboard. From this she lifted a bundle wrapped in white cloth-her best bonnet with its stickup of black wheat and its ribbon, satin on both sides, to tie under her chin. She brushed the

bonnet carefully and laid it beside

the dresses on the crocheted bedspread.

"There ain't many old ladies with a layout as stylish as that!" She surveyed them proudly. "But then they haven't Jenny. I reckon she'd do without, any day, if she thought there was something I'd like to have."

Her Sunday shoes and the wool stockings she had knitted herself she laid at the foot of the bed. After a last glance to be certain that everything was in readiness, she hurried back to the kitchen.

There, so quickly that it took her breath away, the door swung open. and Jenny kissed and squeezed her and danced around the table and back to kiss her again.

"Child alive!" exclaimed Grandma, laughing delightedly. "Want to kill your old Granny off with sudden fright? Scarin' a poor ould body to death like that!" She took Jenny's coat and hung it over the back of a chair. "If you don't quiet down a wee bit, there'll be no holdin' ye on the stage the nicht."

As they sat down to the table, Grandma looked with admiration at Jenny-Jenny who was young and pretty, with merry eyes and hair that was curly and brown.

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