and several pious nappers
were sweetly startled from their theologic dreams. After that event
there was such a marked increase in the masculine attendance that the
lady's modesty took fright, and she refrained from the pleasure of
church-going. When I asked her if she had lost her fondness for
Methodism and music, she replied archly: "Oh, no! I am extremely fond
of going to church and hearing good congregational music, _but_ I can
_restrain_ myself."

Hon. Thomas D. Worrall, M. D., who has recently obtained a divorce and
now lives in Sioux Falls, is another person of note. Born in England
sixty-five years ago, he came to America young, moved to Boston and
achieved reputation as an anti-slavery orator, even when the peerless
Phillips was in his first blaze. Then he went to Colorado, was a
member of the territorial legislature, and wrote his name largely and
honorably on her early annals. Horace Greeley, who liked him heartily,
persuaded him next to accept a professorship in New York in the
American College of Medicine. Two years later, going to New Orleans,
he became a member of the famous Warmouth Legislature, and as sanitary
physician to New Orleans, added to his world-wide host of friends.
While in England, in 1873, his lectures on the resources of the
Mississippi Valley attracted wide attention, and he was greeted on his
return by an ovation in the New Orleans Academy of Music. Colorado
again claimed him for seven happy, industrious years, marked by an
eloquent defence of the Denver Mining Exposition, for which they
presented him with a cabinet of minerals that, according to experts,
is intrinsically worth $5,000, though it would take vastly more to buy
it from a man so covetous of honor. Removing to Washington, he
published a curious little book called "Slander and Defamation of
Character."

Sickness came to this learned and benevolent man, and he went to
London for treatment, but famous surgeons, after operating, could give
him no hope, and he came back to his adopted country to die. To his
amazement he found his home broken up, his valuable furniture sold,
his wife gone. "The mystery of the case," he has said, "is that my
wife and I never had the least falling out. Her desertion of me in my
old age and supposed last illness was like lightning out of a clear
sky. The thought came to me, 'Dying man that I am, it will be sweet to
die free.'" He then came West and settled in Sioux Falls, and either
the invigoratin