A somewhat similar experience to the above is that of Sister Mildred E. Randall, who went with her husband, at a later date, to labor in the Sandwich Islands. Her first mission lasted about eighteen months, and her second one three years. On her third mission to the islands, she was called to go without her husband; thus making her to be the only woman, in the history of the church, who has been called to go on foreign mission independently of her husband. -- In this connection will also suitably appear Sister Elizabeth Drake Davis, who served her people well while in the Treasury department at Washington. She was born in the town of Axminster, Devonshire, England, and was an only child. Having lost her father when she was but ten years of age, and not being particularly attached to her mother, her life became markedly lonely and desolate. In her extremity she sought the Lord in prayer, when a remarkable vision was shown her, which was repeated at two subsequent times, making a permanent impression on her life, and, in connection with other similar experiences, leading her to connect herself with the Church of Latter-day Saints. After being widowed in her native land she crossed the Atlantic and resided for two years in Philadelphia. In May, 1859, with a company of Philadelphian saints, she gathered to Florence, for the purpose of going thence to Utah. An incident there occurred that will be of interest to the reader. She says: "We reached Florence late one evening; it was quite dark and raining; we were helped from the wagons and put in one of the vacant houses--myself, my two little daughters and Sister Sarah White. Early next morning we were aroused by some one knocking at the door; on opening it we found a little girl with a cup of milk in her hand; she asked if there was 'a little woman there with two little children.' 'Yes,' said Sister White, 'come in.' She entered, saying to me, 'If you please my ma wants to see you; she has sent this milk to your little girls.' Her mother's name was strange to me, but I went, thinking to find some one that I had known. She met me at the door with both hands extended in welcome. 'Good morning, Sister Elizabeth,' said she. I told her she had the advantage of me, as I did not remember ever seeing her before. 'No,' said she, 'and I never saw you before. I am Hyrum Smith's daughter (Lovina Walker); my father appeared to me three times last night, and told me that you were the child of God, that you was without money, provisions or friends, and that I must help you.' It is needless to add that this excellent lady and myself were ever thereafter firm friends, until her death, which occurred in 1876. I will add that previous to her last illness I had not seen her in thirteen years; that one night her father appeared to me, and making himself known, said his daughter was in sore need; I found the message was too true. Yet it will ever be a source of gratitude to think I was at last able to