heap good wikiup, all same witee man; Mary he
all same witee squaw, by 'um by."

The white plague is the only disease the Indian fears or calls
sickness. Once, when Ben went to the school where a dozen or so other
happy-faced little girls were being taught and prepared for the
Eastern school, Miss F---- was obliged to tell him Mary was sick. For
a while his savagery was apparently renewed. He became wild again. His
visits increased in frequency, and all the time the teacher was in
mental torture, for he seemed to feel that the white woman was in some
manner connected with his child's going away and her present
condition.

The dread day came when she must tell the loving father that there was
now no hope for his "lil' gal," as he affectionately called her. Then
another more dreaded day rolled round, and the last story must be
told: Mary had died. She would be buried in the far east. Poor old
father! He could not even see her then. How could he be made to
understand?

The only solution of the problem was the holding of a memorial service
for her. One of the Pocatello pastors went up to hold such a service
at the Agency and Ben was present. He was told that if he lived with
his heart clean, "no have bad heart," he would see his Mary again. No
one could tell to what extent this message found place in his mind
until later. One day he was seen approaching the mission school slowly
and apparently sorrowful. Miss F---- met him at the door. On entering
he said, "O, Miss F----, bad Injun no liky me have hay, no liky me
have wikiup all same witee man. Bad Injun burn me up; all me wikiup,
all me hay, all me everyt'ing. But me no have bad heart [that means,
"I do not hate them"], me no have bad heart, Miss F----; me no have
bad heart; me want see my lil' gal some day."

So the lonesome man went away to his one-time home to try to live
among the unchristian and unprogressive Indians without having any
hatred toward them, for he wanted to meet his Mary.

-----

[1] Mary is a very frequent name among the Bannocks of Fort Hall.

A THREE-CORNERED SERMON

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not
return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please,
and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.--_Isaiah_.

Thy word, Almighty Lord,
Where'er it enters in
Is sharper than a two-edged sword
To slay