Father was always fluent in prayer, and his petitions earnest and timely; but in the last year or two of his life his prayers seemed to grow more fervent and impressive.  Mrs. Hendryx, of Wichita, writing to me since his death, speaks thus of a prayer offered by him at the Hutchinson Convention:  “Never, while consciousness shall last, will I forget the ring of your father’s voice in prayer, at Hutchinson.  I asked, ‘Who is that aged veteran? he seems almost inspired.’  And they told me it was Pardee Butler.”

The earnestness and appropriateness of his prayers were most noticeable on several funeral occasions, and numbers spoke of being affected by them, particularly at Bro.  Locker’s funeral.

He preached his last sermon at North Cedar, a week and a half before his accident.  The following Saturday, September 15, he attended Bro.  Locker’s funeral.  The next day he attended Bro.  Parker’s meeting at Pleasant Grove, where he presided at the Lord’s table.

He had several appointments ahead at the time he was hurt.  One of these was to preach the funeral of his old friend, Caleb May, who had died in Florida, August 27.  His children in Florida had sent a request to his son, E. E. May, of Farmington, that father should preach a memorial sermon at Pardee.

Father had not done any heavy work for two years, but he still did much light work, and choring, although his health was gradually failing, milking eight or ten cows a day, and driving a young team from ten to twenty miles to his appointments, almost every Sunday, seldom stopping for bad weather.

It was reported that he was thrown from a colt at the time he was hurt.  My brothers wish that report corrected.  They think he never was thrown from a horse in his life.  They had seen him break many colts, and had never seen him thrown.  He had been using the most spirited colt on the place for his riding horse all summer; but that day, September 19, it was in a distant pasture, and finding my brother Charley’s colt in the stable, he thought he would ride it to the post-office.  It would not stand for him to mount, and he put the halter around a post, holding the end in his hand.  As he mounted the saddle the colt jerked both halter and bridle from his hand and trotted off.  Unable to reach the bridle he hastily dismounted.  As he swung his right foot around to the ground the colt kicked it, crushing the ankle joint.  He quietly called mother; and Brother May, who happened to be passing, helped him into the house, and sent for a surgeon.

We feared no worse result at the first than a crippled ankle.  He said to Bro.  White, who visited him a few days after he was hurt, “Oh, I will get up all right; a Butler never was conquered, you know.  My only concern is that I shall not become a permanent cripple.”

The first week he was hopeful, though suffering much pain.  The second week he was delirious, with high fever.  Then he was prostrated with a severe nervous chill—­his already over-wrought nervous system was exhausted by pain.  From that time he lay in an unconscious stupor the greater part of the time.  He passed quietly away at half-past three A. M., October 19, 1888, at the age of seventy-two.