verely from the want of fuel. Young, on his return to the East, provided himself with enormous quantities of the seeds of the sunflower, which the second band of emigrants sowed by the way, for the benefit of the next party of deluded fanatics who should be enticed from their homes by the wily prophet. The path over which the Mormons passed is marked by a golden line, and the camp-fires of the emigrants to-day are lighted by the fibrous stalks of the sunflowers which the Mormon saints sowed forty years ago.
When they reached the station where supper was awaiting the travellers, Farwell decided not to venture a second time that day into a railway restaurant. From his capacious lunch-basket he drew rations of crackers and cheese, with a bottle of claret. His never-failing comfort, the cigarette, was the only light save that of the stars, as he sat in his favorite place on the rear platform.
As the train sped on once more through the night, Farwell sat thinking of Newport,
