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In one corner is the Tithing-Office, where the faithful render their reluctant tribute to the Lord. Only the swift city-creek intervenes between this square and Kimball's, which is encompassed by a similar wall. His buildings have no pretensions to architectural merit, being merely rough piles of adobe scattered irregularly all over the grounds.
It's just that they've got sorter lost looking for God, being under the impression that He's hard to find which He ain't, never. Most of 'em blunder to Him after a while I guess. I don't think listening to Mr. Kimball's arguments is likely to do me much harm. Mind you, I believe what I was brought up to believe. It saves a vast of trouble and back of it all, God is good. The trouble with Mr.
Kimball's trip to Bermuda, for which she was preparing. "And you feel you must invite Ida?" asked Bess. "I am sure she is almost as certain to do something rude as Sid would be." "Yes, we had better have her," declared Cora, putting down Ida's name on the long list.
"They've done what damage they've dared and they're gone for good. They'll be up at Isle au Haut to-night, either in Head Harbor or Kimball's Island Thoroughfare. Forget 'em!" "Lucky my temper isn't hitched up with your strength," said Lane. Late on the afternoon of July 3d, when the morning's catch of eighteen hundred pounds of hake had been split and salted, Spurling called a council of war.
Muffled drums of a regiment were passing, and an escort with reversed arms, to bury poor Kimball, Captain in Colonel Cilly's command, shot this morning through the heart by the accidental discharge of a musket in the careless hands of one of his own men. We stood at salute while the slow cortege passed. Said Boyd thoughtfully: "Well, Kimball's done with all earthly worries.
He watched her a little while longer. "No; she's sketching. Those are drawing strokes she's making." Then, looking wholly blank, Jack Benson turned on his heel. He looked first at one mechanism, then at another. Yet, presently, stood close to Lieutenant Commander Kimball's ear. Only a few words were said, but the naval officer understood instantly.
Every one who heard of the projected trip on the submarine boat, it seemed, wanted to be invited. By the time that Mr. Kimball's list was made up it consisted of three men and nine women, these in addition to the lieutenant commander himself and Mr Featherstone. As Jack paced the far end of the veranda that evening a girlish figure, only poorly concealed under a light wrap, stole after him.
In confirmation of this the following extract from Heber C. Kimball's diary shows that a migration to some point west of the Rocky Mountains was contemplated: Nauvoo Temple, December 31, 1845 President Young and myself are superintending the operations of the day, examining maps with reference to selecting a location for the Saints west of the Rocky Mountains, and reading the various works which have been written and published by travellers in those regions.
At that time the "center of the town" was in the easterly part of the township, in the vicinity of the present Union Passenger Depot. Here were located the rather shabby yellow meeting-house, Cowdin's tavern, Dea. Ephraim Kimball's mill, Joseph Fox's "red store," and several dwelling-houses.
The last to come were four men: one, tall, slender, red-faced and red-haired, two others of dark and lowering faces, who looked upon the former as their leader, and the last, Wilfred Compton, who had unobtrusively joined himself to this remnant of Red Kimball's gang.
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