nothing horrible, nothing grewsome, nothing repulsive in that well cared for, well preserved arm. We exhibited it pridefully to ladies, and not one fainted, although many blushed because they had not been more thoughtful before demanding such intimate revelation of a man's personality, unclothed, even-so-be it had been severed from his body long years before, and all were piqued by the compromising situation in which they found themselves placed with no possible avenue of escape. There was nothing in the arm itself considered only as an arm to arouse disagreeable sensations, for it was brought out for the inspection of children whenever they had arrived at the age of intelligent curicsity, and were likely to feel an interest in unusual feats of surgery, with no more harmful effect than an occasional fit of tears from some child who begged closer examination of the amputator's art and was denied. There was really nothing startling, though the sight to one with a weak heart may not have been beneficial, owing to the excitement sure to ensue. Whatever of resentful sensations which swept people in the immediate presence of the arm for the first time, softened soon, with reasonable ones, to delight in the rememberance, and many yet remain who remember the day of their privilege.

In a way "Uncle Joe's arm" shed a missionary influence, it humanized us and made strangers our special care. They found welcome, and tender regard until we were able to bring them within the aura of Uncle Joe's mummified arm and when they were tingling with interest we sent for Uncle Jce and brought out the relic.

Perhaps making Uncle Joe's misfortune our gain was cruel but he good-naturedly submitted, and was ever ready in the role of showman. Mayhap we had never cut off his arm, wilfully, even for the attending emoluments, but since he had lost it before coming to Monson we saw no great objections (with Uncle's Joe's

consent) in becoming its trustees for scientific purposes for psychologic tests of variation in the unwary.

Physically, Uncle Joe did not appear to greatly miss the arm. He was an industrious man and could do more work with but one hand an arm than the average man with two. He had cleared, and cleaned up his rocky acres with little aid from others, and in "haying" often "pitched both ways" to relieve some young man, whose twenty-five years bore more heavily than Uncle Joe's sixty. It was believed he worked from choice, not necessity, for he had money to lend to neighbors in a pinch, refusing interest, and in cases of need, putting aside proffered return of the principal, from time to time on one pretext and another that would not wound the self-respect of the debtor, until after Uncle's Joe's death the canceled notes were found among his papers. Twice a year Monson missed him for a week, where he wandered none knew but it was believed he returned with money.

He neither sought nor repelled the society of women. Their presence brought him no embarrassment, for his stories were never risque, never coarse, and if not as entertaining to women as to men, there was nothing in them to offend. In the society of our matrons and young ladies he was deferential, courtly even, strangely so for a man with no advantages of training, and his recognition of the humblest carried an air of respect which flattered and lifted up. He was not effusive, and probably could not have formed a neatly phrased comliment. Certainly he made no attempt to be the life of a ladies' party, but Mother often said each one present felt a silent message telling her that Uncle Joe was distinctly conscious of her nearness, believing good things of her and urging her to live up to her best. And yet they felt in the same mysterious way that he was robed in a garment of reserve, which the boldest woman would shrink from handling with undue familiarity. Man's being is not attuned to a pitch which will