MATRIMONIAL TROUBLES OF A MORMON BISHOP.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 247, 9 October 1876, Page 4

MATRIMONIAL TROUBLES OF A MORMON BISHOP.

Bishop Potts, of Salt Lake City, was the husband of three wives and the father of fifteen interesting children. Early in the winter the bishop determined that the children should have a good time at Christmas, so he concluded to take a trip down to San Francisco to see wbat he could find in the shape of toys with which to gratify aod amuse them. The good bishop packed his carpet bag, embraced Mrs Potts, one by one, and kissed each of her affectionately and started upon his journey. He was gone a little more than a week, when he came back with fifteen brass trumpets in his valise for his darlings. He got out of the train at Salt Lake, thinking how joyous it would be at home on Christmas morning when the fifteen trumpets should be in operation upon different tunes at the same moment. But just as he entered the depot he saw a group of ladies standing in the ladies room apparently waiting for him. As soon as he approached, the whole twenty of them rushed up, threw their arms about his neck and kissed him, exclaiming: "Oh, Theodore, we are so, bo glad you have come back! Welcome home! Welcome, dear Theodore, to the bosom of your family I" and then the entire score of tbem fell upon his nock and cried over his shirt front and mussed him. The bishop seemed surprised and embarrassed. Struggling to dieengnge himself, he blushed and said: "Really, ladies, this kind of thing is well enough — it is interesting and all that; but there must be some kind of a —this is, an awkward sort of a—excuse rae, ladies, but there seems to be, as it were, a slight misunderstanding about tbe — I am Bishop Potts." "We know ir, we know it, dear," tbey exclaimed, in chorus, " and we are very glad to see you safe home. We have all been very well while you were away, love." "It gratifies me," remarked the bishop, " to learn that nono of you have been a prey to disease. I am filled with serenity when I contemplate the fact; but, really, I do not understand why you should rush into this railway station and hug rae, because your livers are active and your digestion good. The precedent is bad; it is daugerous!" " Oh, but we didu'ti" they exclaimed in chorus. "We came here to welcome you because you are our husband." "Pardon me but there must ba some little — that is to say, as it were, I should think not. . Women, you have mistaken your man!" "Oh noi" they shouted; we were married to you while you were away." " What!" exclaimed the bishop, you don't mean to say that — " "Yes, love. Our husband, William Brown, died on Monday, and oh Thursday, Brigham had a vision in which he was directed to seal us to you; and so he performed the ceremony at once by proxy." " ib-th-th-thunder!" observed the bishop. •'Aud we are all liviug with you now —we and the dear children." "Children! children!" exclaimed Bishop Polts, turning pale; "you don't say there is a pack of children, too?" "Yes, love, but only one hundred and twenty live, not couuting the eight twins and the triplet." "Wha-wha-wha-what d'you say?" gaßped the bishop, in a cold perspiration; "one hundred and twenty-five! One hundred and twenty-five ohildren and twenty more wives! It is too muchit is awfull" and the bishop sat down and groaned, while the late Mrs Brown, the bride, stood round in a semi-circle and fanned bim with their bonnels, all except the red-haired one, and she in ber trepidation made a futile effort to fan him with the coal scuttle. Bat after awhile the Bishop became reconciled to his new alliance, knowing well that protests would be unavailable, eo he walked home, holding several of the little hands of the bride, while die red-haired woman carried his umbrella and marched in front of the parade to remove obstructions and scare off small boys. When the bishop reached the house, he went around amoDg the cradles which filled the back parlor and the two second-slory rooms, and attempted with bucli earnestness to become acquainted with his new sons and daughters, that he set the whole one hundred and twenty-five and the twins to cry. ing, while his old originul fifteen elood around and swelled the volume of sound. Then the bishop went out aud sat on the garden fence to whittle a stick aud solemnly think, while Mrs Potts distributed herself around and soothed the children. It occurred lo the bishop while he muaed, out there on the fence, that he had uot enough trumpets to go round among the children as the family now stood; aud ao, irather than seem to be partial, he deaermiued lo go back to Sao Francisco for one hundred »nd forty-four more. So the bishop repacked his carpet Jbag, ond begna again to hid farewell to hia family. He tenderly kissed all of the jMis Potls who were at home, and etarted for the depot, while Mrs I'otts stood at the various windows and waved her handkerchiefs at him — . 1; except the woman with the warm hair, and she, in a fit of absent-mindedness, held one of the twin, by the legs, and brandished it at Potts &g he fled down the street towards the railway station. The bishop reached San Francisco, completed his purchases, aod was just -about to gat ou the train with hi& one

hundred and forty-forty-four trumpets, when a was handed to him. It contained information to the effect that the auburn-haired Mrs Potts had just had a daughter. This induced the biehop to return to the city for the purpose of purchasing an additional trumpet. On the following Sunday he returned home. As he approached his house a swarm of young children flew out of the front gate and ran towards him shouting, " There's pa ! Here comes pa, but we're glad to Bee you I Hurrah for pa! " &c, &c. Tbe bishop looked at the children as they flocked around him and hung to his legs and coat, and was astonished lo percieve that they were neither his nor the late Brown's. He said you youngsters have made a mistake; I am not your father;" and the biehop smiled goodnaturedly. "Oh yes, you are, though ! " screamed the little ones in chorus. "But I say I am not," said the bishop, severely and frowning; "you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Don't you know where little storytellers go? It is scandalous for you to violate the truth in this manner. My name ie Potts." " Yes, we know it is," exclaimed the children — " we know it is, and so is ours; that is our name now, too, since the wedding." " Since what wedding ? " demanded the bishop, turning pale. "Why ma's wedding, of course. She was married yesterday to you by Mr. Young, and we are all living at your house now, with our new little brothers and sisters." The bishop Bat down on the nearest front door step, and wiped away a tear. Then he asked, " Who was your father ? " "Mr Simpson," said the crowd, " and he died on Tuesday." " And bow many of bis infernal old widows— l mean how many of your mother — are there ? " 44 Only twenty-seven," replied the children, " and there are only sixty-four of us, and we are awful glad you have come home." The bishop did not seem to be unusually glad; somehow, he failed to share the enthusiasm of the occasion. There appeared to be, in a certain sense, too much sameness about these surprises; bo he sat there with his hat pulled over his eyes and considered the situation. Finally, seeing there was no help for it, he went up to the house, and forty-eight of Mrs Potts rushed up to bim and told him how the prophet had another vision, in whioh he was commanded to Beal Simpson's widows to Potts. Then the bishop stumbled around among the cradles to his writing desk. He felt among tbe gum rings and rattles for his letter-paper, and then he addressed a note to Brigham, askiog bim as a personal favor to keep awake until after Christmas. "The man must take me for a fouudling hospital," he said. Then tho Bishop saw clearly enough that if he gave presents to the other children, and not to the late Simpson's, the bride would make thiugs warm for him. So he Btarted again fcr San Francisco for sixty-four more trumpets, while Mrs Potts gradually took leave of him in the entry — all but the red haired woman who was up stairs, and who bad to be satisfied with screeching good bye at the top of ber voice. On his way home, after hia last visit io San Francisco, the bishop sat in the car by the side of a man who bad left Salt Lake the day before. The stranger was communicative. In the course of the conversation he remarked to the Bishop : "That was a mighty pretty little affair up there at the city on Monday " " Wb&t affiii ?" asked Potts. " Why, that wedding ; McGrath's widow, you know— married by proxy." " You don't say?" replied the bishop. "I didn't know McGrath was dead." "Yes; died on Sunday, and that night firigbam had a vision in which he was ordered to seal her to the bishop." "Bishop!" exclaimed Polls. " Bishop! What bishop?" '• Well, you see, there were fifteen of Mrs McGrath and eighty-two children, and they shoved the whole lot off on old Potts. Perhaps you don't know him?" The bishop gave a wild shriek, and writhpd upon the floor as if he had a fif. When he recovered he leaped from the train and walked back to Stn Francisco. He afterwards took the Gret steamer for Peru, where he entered a monastery nnd became a celibate. His carpet-bag was sent on to his family. It contained the balance of tbe It umpels. On Christmas morning they were disturbed, and in less than an hour the entire two hundred and eight childreti were eic-k from sucking the brass upon them. A doctor was called aud he seemed so much interested in the fumily that Brigham divorced the the whole concern from old Potts and annexed it to the doctor, who immediately lost his reason, and would have butchered the entire family if the i\jd- \ haired woman and the oldest boy had j not marched him off to a lunatic asylum, , where he his spent time tryiDg to arrive at an estimate of the number of his children by ciphering with an impossible combination of the multiplication table and algebra. Max Adeleb.

[through the interpreter. One, an *.unt ,of the prisoner, to the question whether she kept drink in ber house where tbe prisoner might have obtained it, replied, "Am I a European that I should keep drink in my house for friends?' When Mr Wi Tako, M.L.C., went into the. witness box Mr Barton enquired if he knew sufficient of English that the examination might be made without interpretation. His answer to the interpreter, given with a cynioal smile, was, "Tako knows that language." Asked afterwards if the grandmother of Te Puni drank, he asked in apparent surprise, " Would an old woman drink?" Mr Wi Tako is evidently not a frequent visitor to the police courts.— Post,