back Frances Mariah Stillman Russell Neff next

Here is a story written by a descendant of Sophie Watkins Bateman, who was born in a covered wagon on the banks of the Bear River while coming to Utah, 5 September 1852. she told this story to Roylance Spratling shortly before her death. He writes:

Like other pioneer children she helped with the family chores and as a reward for her faithful work at home, her father would sometimes take her with him on Saturdays when he took grain to Neff’s Mill to be ground into flour.

Each trip meant a six mile ride in the loaded wagon on top of the grain sacks, a chance to see many of her friends as they passed the neighbor’s houses, and best of all an opportunity to visit Mrs. Neff and her lovely home by the mill. The little girl had never seen anything as beautiful as the Neff home. Mrs Neff had recently come from the east and married Franklin Neff, the miller. There was a new carpet on the floor, lace curtains at the windows, and in the corner of the room a small melodeon which had been hauled across the plains in the back of a covered wagon. Sometimes Mrs. Neff would even play the organ for her as she sat in a state of ecstasy close by.

On one of these wonderful mornings Mrs. Neff left Great grandmother alone in the house for a few minutes to watch the baby. While Sophronia was playing on the floor amusing the infant, she suddenly discovered a gleaming metal object. She picked it up to examine it more closely for she had never seen anything like it before. Surely it must be a lovely breast pin. She was so entranced by the beautiful pin that her hands seemed glued to it and she just couldn’t put it down. Instead she slipped it into 		her apron pocket and held it tightly with her little fist.

When her father turned their wagon into the home farm yard that afternoon, Sophronia jumped down and ran quickly to the hayloft, where she could be alone, even forgetting about her evening chores for she had to have another look at her precious treasure. She lay on the soft hay for a long time turning the pin over and over in her hands, and dreaming how lovely it must have looked on one of Mrs. Neff’s several Sunday dresses. or how it might look on her own mother’s only Sunday dress.

That night the little girl fell asleep with her treasure hidden safely under her pillow. However the night wasn’t as pleasant as the day had been, for her conscience immediately began to plague her.

First of all in her dreams she heard these words over and over, “Sophronia Watkins, you’re a thief, Sophronia, you stole someone else’s property,” Then she said an accusing finger pointed at her and there was Mrs. Neff looking all over her house for her beautiful breast pin and crying because she couldn’t find it. The cries grew until Sophronia suddenly awakened. She looked at the shiny pin under her pillow but somehow it no longer looked enchanting and wonderful. There was no more sleep for the child that night. She kept worrying about her sinful actions and trying to work out a scheme to get it back     [more…]

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