And die many of them did. As previously remarked. Winter Quarters was the Valley Forge of Mormondom. Our home was near the burying ground; and I can remember the small mournful-looking trains that so often passed our door. I also remember how poor and same-like our habitual diet was: corn bread, salt bacon, and a little milk. Mush and bacon became so nauseating that it was like taking medicine to swallow it; and the scurvy was making such inroad amongst us that it looked as if we should all be "sleeping on the hill" before spring, unless fresh food could be obtained. While we were in this condition there happened one of these singular events which so often flit across the life of a Mormon. President Young called one day at the door of our cabin, and said to my father: "Lorenzo, if you will hitch up your horses and go down into Missouri, the Lord will open the way, so that you can bring up a drove of hogs, and give the people fresh meat, and be a blessing to you." As I remember, the next day father took me in the wagon, and with a "spike" or three-horse team, started on that mission. The only recollections that I have of that wonderfully productive land, were given me by that journey. The Mormons believe that Missouri embraces, in its bounds, that portion of the earth where Eden stood. Adam-Ondi-Ahman, the place where Adam gathered his children and blessed them, is situated five miles northwest from Gallatin, on Grand river. I will now relate some incidents that took place on that trip to St. Joseph, Missouri. Soon after reaching the frontier settlements we camped for the night with a man who claimed to have been living on his ranch for sixteen years. The home was rather primitive, but the farm must have been a good one. His bins were full of corn, and his horses, cows, sheep, and hogs were fine and fat. Father asked if he would sell a horse. "Yes, if I can get a good price for one." What was the grey Messenger filly worth? "Well, that is a good animal; a wonderful traveler," and he wanted a dollar a mile for every mile that he had driven her in a day. And though we might not believe it, yet it was gospel truth, that he had driven that mare in his spring cart, thirty-five miles from sun to sun. The next morning my father pulled out 'with a four-horse team. The Messenger fully proved one of the best animals that we ever owned. After a lapse of sixty years I tell this story to my children to show them the difference of ideas about hard driving between the people of the woolly west and the stay-at-home farmer near St. Joseph. Upon arriving at St. Joseph we put up at Polk's Tavern. A Mormon family by the name of Lake had left Winter Quarters in search of work. One of the daughters had found employment at Mr. Polk's. Being frequently questioned, she had told much about the sufferings and the present conditions of our people. She knew my father well, and joyfully recognized him.