“But we like to hear it, Uncle Zed,” said Dorian.

“Indeed, we do,” added Mildred.  “Tell us more about your books.”

“Here is one of my precious volumes—­Orson Pratt’s works.  When I get hungry for the solid, soul-satisfying doctrines of the kingdom, I read Orson Pratt.  Parley Pratt also is good.  Here is a book which is nearly forgotten, but which contains beautiful presentations of the gospel, ‘Spencer’s Letters’.  Dorian, look here.”  He handed the young man a small, ancient-looking, leather bound book.  “I found it in a second-hand store and paid fifteen cents for it.  Yes, it’s a second edition of the ‘Doctrine and Covenants,’ printed by John Taylor in Nauvoo in 1844.  The rest of my collection is familiar to you, I am sure.  Here is a complete set of the ‘Contributor’ and this is my ‘Era’ shelf, and here are most of the more modern church works.  Let us now go back to the fire.”

After they were again seated, Mildred asked him if he had known Brigham Young.  She always liked to hear the pioneers talk of their experiences.

“No” replied Uncle Zed, “I never met President Young, but I believe I know him as well as many who had that pleasure.  I have read everything that I could get in print which Brigham Young ever said.  I have read all his discourses in those volumes.  He was not a polished speaker, I understand, and he did not often follow a theme; but mixed with the more commonplace subjects of irrigation, Indian troubles, etc., which, in his particular day had to be spoken of, are some of the most profound gospel truths in any language.  Gems of thought shine from every page of his discourses.”

Carlia was nodding in a warm corner.  Uncle Zed rambled on reminiscently until Mrs. Trent suddenly arose, spoke sharply to Carlia, and lifted the basket of picnic on to the table.

“We’ll have our refreshments now,” she said, “and then we must be going.  Uncle Zed goes early to bed, and so should we.”

The table was spread:  roast chicken, brought by Carlia; dainty sandwiches, made by Mildred; apple pie from Mrs. Trent’s cupboard; a jar of apricot preserves, suggested by Dorian.  Uncle Zed asked a blessing not only on the food, but on the kind hands which had provided it.  Then they ate heartily, and yet leaving a generous part to be left in Uncle Zed’s own cupboard.

Then Dorian had a presentation to make.  He took from the basket a small package, unwrapped it, and handed a book to the man who was seventy-five years old.

“I couldn’t do much by way of the eats,” said Dorian, “so my present is this.”

“‘Drummond’s Natural Law in the Spiritual World’” read Uncle Zed.  “Why, Dorian, this is fine of you.  How could you guess my wishes so nicely.  For a long time, this is just the book I have wanted.”

“I’m glad.  I thought you’d like it.”

“Fine, fine,” said the old man, fondling the volume as he would some dear object, as indeed, every good book was to him.