His memory will be lastingly perpetuated by the development of his city mission work, known as “Riverside Mission,” a neglected portion of Minneapolis, embracing what is known as “The River Flats,” where the inhabitants, mostly foreigners, and in need of religious instruction, were taught by this faithful missionary and his estimable and consecrated wife to speak and sing the language of Heaven.

The faithful wife and co-laborer, one son, E. Fitch Pabody, and one daughter, Eleanor (Mrs. Ward H. Benton), all of Minneapolis, survive him.

Mr. Pabody is, of course, best known to the members of this society on account of his service with it in the past thirteen years.  While not one of the oldest members of the society from a point of years in his connection with the society, in point of service he ranks very high, for during all the period of his service he was always finding something to do for the association.  Several times he was on the program, in a number of official capacities he served the society, and especially as a member of the reception committee during a number of our annual meetings was he of largest use to the association, and his courteous and kindly ways we especially remember.  Mr. Pabody was very near to the writer personally, and his taking away is largely in the nature of a personal loss.  Mr. Pabody had a great love for horticultural pursuits.  His garden and orchard occupied very much of his thoughts during the later years of his life, when he lived on the shores of Lake Minnetonka.  It is hard to part with these old members who have so much endeared themselves to us in these many thoughtful ways.—­Secy.

Bread Cast upon the Waters.

C. S. HARRISON, YORK, NEB.

The instance recited below has nothing particularly to do with horticulture but a good deal to do with a “horticulturist,” C. S. Harrison, of York, Neb., that picturesque veteran in horticulture, who has been an attendant at our meetings now for so many years, adding such a strong interest to our annual gatherings.  Mr. Harrison recited at our late meeting the incident referred to here—­without the denouement, which came to him in California this winter, where he met Mr. Lindbergh, one of Minnesota congressmen.  As a result of this incident we had Mr. Harrison with again at our late summer meeting.—­Secy.

In 1861 I was living in Sauk Center, Minn., where I preached the first sermon.  I had a tract of country under my care 100 miles in extent and had all sorts of work to do.  Ten miles from Sauk Center there was a sturdy Swede who was at one time speaker in one branch of the Swedish parliament and for a while secretary to the king.  He moved to Minnesota about the year ’60.  It seems he had not learned the art of graft, and he was poor.  He took up a preemption and built him a little log house 12x16.  One day he took a load of logs to the mill and, stumbling, fell on the saw.  This caught him in the back and split it open, and also took a stab at his right arm.