Nellie performing the task assigned them of chafing her benumbed limbs, bathing and warming her back to life again.

When consciousness left her she was fighting demons: As it dawned again upon her she was in the presence of her faithful nurses in a well arranged room and in a comfortable bed, and looking dreamily around she inquired, "Is this heaven?"

Just here the county physician arrived. He thinking it must be his duty to attend the patient as she was taken from jail, assumed the responsibility of the case, ordering brandy at once or she could not long survive. I heard an old Quaker gentleman tell the story afterwards how he ran with great haste to the nearest drug store to get the brandy thinking the statement of the physician must be true, but on arriving with it the matron took care that the poor girl got but the one spoonful administered by the physician. "For as soon as the Dr. had placed the bottle out of his hand the matron conveyed it to mine with a significance that gave me to understand that I had leave to put it in my pocket and to take it away. She then went on with her own way of treating the case which was the administration of strong beef tea and strong coffee, and the testimony of the patient was that she never felt as well before when recovering from a fit of tremens as she did at that time."

Poor girl! Thankful as she was from the depths of her soul for the kindness of the ladies and the shelter of the Home, yet appetite again asserted its power and again she yielded to the might of the destroyer, and a year later a letter of inquiry came from the matron of a reformatory house that had been opened in Kansas City, Mo., saying, "Do you know Eva Lloyd? She is here and she speaks of you, Mother Benedict, and the matron of the Home in the warmest terms of praise. Poor girl! she has sowed the wind and is reaping the whirlwind. She is dying of consumption, but I hope and believe that, being truly penitent, she is a saved girl."

I have told you the story of the old Quaker gentlemen responding to the Dr.'s order for brandy, now I will tell you of the effect upon Hattie and Nellie, into whose presence it was brought, as I learned it from their own lips.

"Although our distress at poor Eva's condition almost blinded our eyes with tears as we ministered to her necessities, we were no sooner released from her bedside than we commenced our search for the brandy that had been brought in sight and smelling distance of us and of which we thought, 'Are these people fools to bring this temptation before us?' We did not leave a spot unsearched from garret to cellar, and no doubt would have possessed ourselves of it had it not been for the care of the matron returning it to the old gentlemen who brought it, fearing lest it might be a temptation to us."

But a little time elapsed until there was revival services commenced in the little Quaker church by the state capitol. To this the kind Quaker gentleman and his wife proffered their escort to Hattie and Nellie the Board consenting. Nellie was soon converted, and the Board having reversed their order of allowing the girls to attend outside meetings, she found herself shut off from what she deemed now so great a privilege and she sought the counsel and protection of the servant of the Lord who came to her relief at the first. The dear good lady kindly took her in and from that hour treated her as her own daughter. Here she could have full privileges of the services of what proved to be a wonderful revival. During the meeting she made the acquaintance of a young gentleman who proffered himself as her escort during the remainder of the services. This offer was declined, on the ground that if he knew her history he would not wish to be her escort. Not easily turned aside, he begged to know what there was in her history that would debar him from such privilege. On being informed that she was a graduate of the Benedict Home he replied, "Notwithstanding that I will be your escort." This he continued to be, and continues still for

in August of the following year they were married and settled in our capitol city.

This narrative became of cash value when the bill for the first $5,000 given for the Home was pending in the house. One of the members preferring "Mother Benedict's" talk in a whisper to the oratory on the floor concerning the bill, came round and plied her with various questions and finally said, "Have you saved one?" To which I replied, "Not a mile from where we talk lives one that we took right off the evil road now honorably married and a consistent member of the church." To this the member replied, "If you have saved one, it is worth $5,000. I will vote for your bill." (This was man's estimate of the value of the salvation of one of these lost ones.) That vote was the salvation of the bill for one vote less and it would have been lost.

I blush to make the statement, but nevertheless it is true, that in this labor of love for the fallen I find it so much easier to win man's sympathy to the work than woman's. This leads me to feel that we well deserve the severe epithet, "Woman, woman's worst enemy." Yet I remember recoiling as it was presented by one of our legislators saying, "I wonder so much that women should be so hard on their own sex," to which I retorted, "The simple reason is our Adams are so weak we do not dare to have them around."

I have followed out the narrative of this poor girl the more carefully because of its testimony of the power of strong drink, even over womanhood, and also showing that even delirium tremens can be cured without administering so dangerous a remedy.

Fearing lest I have wearied the reader in following out this story and in dwelling so long on the story of Nellie, I will simply say of Hattie that notwithstanding her oft repeated yielding to the power of strong drink and through that to be again drawn back into dens of infamy, yet the seed sown in the Home brought forth fruit to the effect that the last time I saw her, she and her husband paid a visit to the Home both bearing the appearance of respectable life.

Yet I want to beg indulgence while I give the narrative of one more rescued during the first few months of the existence of the Home. Our first knowledge of her was the story of an editor into whose office she came one morning complaining of the treatment that she was receiving from the men of the village. She said she came there with a man to whom she thought she was legally married, but that he was selling her to the service of the lecherous. It was well for the poor girl that the editor had knowledge of the Home, although now in its infancy, and well too that there was a W. C. T. U. with some of the members of which he was well acquainted, for one was his wife. So taking the girl home with him he committed her to the care of the order which immediately made the necessary arrangements and sent the unfortunate to the Home. The matron and ladies of the Board soon discovered symptoms of insanity, and on the girl's stating that she was a minister's daughter they accepted that as one of the evidences that she certainly must be insane. However, as she gave the address of her father, they concluded to write, and they received in answer that it must be his missing daughter whom he had not considered strictly sane since she was twelve years old. In this deranged condition she had been lured from home and they had lost all trace of her. The Board succeeded in securing her admission to the insane hospital where reason was soon again restored. Here we lost account of her until aome years later as Sister Palmer was lecturing in Texas she noticed one woman in the audience whose expression indicated the most intense interest in the subject she was presenting and especially when she referred to the work of Iowa women among the fallen and the rescues through the benign influence of the Benedict Home.

At the close of her lecture the lady whom she had noticed as such an interested listener came to her giving a pressing invitation to dinner. In complying she found herself in a home of affluence presided over by a lady of Christian influence, who added this one more testimony to the blessings of the

Home to the unfortunate; as she called Sister Palmer aside to her room and told her the story of her suffering at the hand of evil men, and of her escape by the way of the stepping stones made possible to her through the benediction of the Home.

In the first few months of the existence of the Home there came another trial to the ladies of the Board which caused them to say, "Mother Benedict has provided for the living, but she has made no provision for the dead." For death had entered the Home and the question was "Where can we bury our dead?" They had dispatched to the friends of the girl as to what they should do with the remains and received the answer back, "Bury her there." Not deeming it prudent to draw on the Home treasury for the means to purchase a lot in the cemetery, they telegraphed the friends again, "Will you bear the expense?" The reply was a positive refusal. But a kind gentleman in the city said to the ladies encouragingly, "I am quite sure that if you bring this matter before the proper authorities, the city will give you a portion of the cemetery that you may have a place of your own where to inter your dead. He also kindly said, "I will open my vault and the remains of the young girl can be placed there until you are in possession of grounds that you can call your own."

The Board felt they received a great blessing by Sister Palmer's providentially coming to them in their time of need and in her able, tender way conducting the funeral exercises, after which the remains of the poor girl were as carefully deposited in the vault of the rich man, as though it had been one of his own family. But even this was not attended without expense. And just here I will tell you how this was met. When the word came to me in the field of what had transpired at the Home, and of the unwillingness of the friends to minister to the necessities of their own, I providentially had an appointment in their vicinity, and, as I entered the Sacred desk with my usual prayer, "Father bring to my rememberance the things best suited to this audience," the