play, and a large and varied assortment of children. It is an odd sight to see a jovial old Mormon file down the parquette aisle with ten or twenty robust wives at his heels. Yet this spectacle may be witnessed every night the theatre is opened. The dress circle is chiefly occupied by the officers from Camp Douglas* and the Gentile merchants. The upper circles are filled by the private soldiers and Mormon boys. I feel bound to say that a Mormon audience is quite as appreciative as any other kind of an audience. They prefer comedy to tragedy. Sentimental plays, for obvious reasons, are unpopular with them. It will be remembered that when C. Melnotte, in the "Lady of Lyons," comes home from the wars, he folds Pauline to his heaving heart and makes several remarks of an impassioned and slobbering character. One night when the "Lady of Lyons" was produced here, an aged Mormon arose and went out with his twenty-four wives, angrily stating that he wouldn't sit and see a play where a man made such a cussed fuss over one woman. The prices of the theatre are :-Parquette, 75 cents; dress circle, 1 dol. ; first upper circle, 50 cents; second and third upper circles, 25 cents. In an audience of two thousand persons (and there are almost always that number present) probably a thousand will pay in cash, and the other thousand in grain and a variety of articles; all which will command money however.

Brigham Young usually sits in the middle of the parquette, in a rocking-chair, and with his hat on. He does not escort his wives to the theatre they go alone. When the play

drags he either falls into a tranquil sleep or walks out. He wears in winter-time a green wrapper, and his hat is the style introduced into this country by Louis Kossuth, Esq., the liberator of Hungaria. (I invested a dollar in the liberty of Hungaria nearly fifteen years ago.)

The United States military encampment adjoining Salt Lake City.

13.-A PIECE IS SPOKEN

A PIECE hath its victories no less than war.

"Blessed are the Piece-makers." That is Scripture.

The night of the "comic oration" is come, and the speaker is arranging his back hair in the star dressing-room of the theatre. The orchestra is playing selections from the Gentile opera of "Un Ballo in Maschera," and the house is full. Mr John F. Caine, the excellent stage manager, has given me an elegant drawing-room scene in which to speak my little piece. [In Iowa, I once lectured in a theatre, and the heartless manager gave me a dungeon scene.]

The curtain goes up, and I stand before a Salt Lake of upturned faces.

I can only say that I was never listened to more attentively and kindly in my life than I was by this audience of Mormons. Among my receipts at the box-office this night were— 20 bushels of wheat.

1 live pig (Dr Hingston chained him in the box-office).

1 wolf-skin.

5 pounds honey in the comb.

16 strings of sausages-2 pounds to the string.

1 cat-skin.

1 churn (two families went in on this; it is an ingenious churn, and fetches butter in five minutes by rapid grinding). 1 set children's under-garments, embroidered.

1 firkin of butter.

1 keg of apple-sauce.

One man undertook to pass a dog (a cross between a Scotch terrier and a Welsh rabbit) at the box-office, and another pre

sented a German-silver coffin-plate, but the Doctor very justly repulsed them both.

14.-THE BALL.

THE Mormons are fond of dancing. Brigham and Heber C. dance. So do Daniel H. Wells, and the other heads of the Church. Balls are opened with prayer, and when they break up a benediction is pronounced.

I am invited to a ball at Social Hall, and am escorted thither by Brothers Stenhouse and Clawson.

Social Hall is a spacious and cheerful room. The motto of "Our Mountain Home" in brilliant evergreen capitals adorns one end of the hall, while at the other a platform is erected for the musicians, behind whom there is room for those who don't dance to sit and look at the festivities. Brother Stenhouse, at the request of President Young, formally introduces me to company from the platform. There is a splendour of costumery about the dancers I had not expected to see. Quadrilles only are danced. The mazourka is considered sinful. Even the old-time round waltz is tabooed.

I dance.

The Saints address each other here, as elsewhere, as Brother and Sister. "This way, Sister!" "Where are you going, Brother?" &c., &c. I am called Brother Ward. This pleases me, and I dance with renewed vigour.

The Prophet has some very charming daughters, several of whom are present to-night.

I was told they spoke French and Spanish.

The Prophet is more industrious than graceful as a dancer. He exhibits, however, a spryness of legs quite remarkable in a man at his time of life. I didn't see Heber C. Kimball on the floor. I am told he is a loose and reckless dancer, and that many a lily-white toe has felt the crushing weight of his cowhide monitors.

The old gentleman is present, however, with a large number of wives. It is said he calls them his "heifers."

"Ain't you goin' to dance with some of my wives?" said a Mormon to me.

These things make a Mormon ball more spicy than a Gentile

one.

The supper is sumptuous, and bear and beaver adorn the bill of fare.

I go away at the early hour of two in the morning. The moon is shining brightly on the snow-covered streets. The lamps are cut, and the town is still as a graveyard.

15.-PHELPS'S ALMANAC.

THERE is an eccentric Mormon at Salt Lake City of the name of W. W. Phelps. He is from Cortland, State of New York, and has been a Saint for a good many years. It is said he enacts the character of the Devil, with a pea-green tail, in the Mormon initiation ceremonies. He also publishes an almanac, in which he blends astronomy with short moral essays, and suggestions in regard to the proper management of hens. He also contributes a poem, entitled "The Tombs," to his almanac for the current year, from which I quote the last verse:

"Choose ye; to rest with stately grooms;
Just such a place there is for sleeping;
Where everything, in common keeping,
Is free from want and worth and weeping;
There folly's harvest is a reaping,

Down in the grave among the tombs."

Now, I know that poets and tin-pedlars are "licensed," but why does W. W. P. advise us to sleep in the barn with the ostlers? These are the most dismal tombs on record, not ex

P

cepting the Tomb of the Capulets, the Tombs of New York, or the Toombs of Georgia.

Under the head of "Old Sayings," Mr P. publishes the following. There is a modesty about the last "saying" which will be pretty apt to strike the reader :

"The Lord does good and Satan evil, said Moses.

Sun and moon, see me conquer, said Joshua.
Virtue exalts a woman, said David.

Fools and folly frolic, said Solomon.
Judgments belong to God, said Isaiah.

The path of the just is plain, said Jeremiah.
The soul that sins dies, said Ezekiel.

The wicked do wicked, said Daniel.
Ephraim fled and hid, said Hosea.

The Gentiles war and waste, said Joel.

The second reign is peace and plenty, said Amos.

Zion is the house of the gods, said Obadiah.

A fish saved me, said Jonah.

Our Lion will be terrible, said Micah.

Doctor, cure yourself, said the Saviour.
Live to live again, said W. W. Phelps."

16.-HURRAH FOR THE ROAD!

TIME, Wednesday afternoon, February 10.-The Overland stage, Mr William Glover on the box, stands before the veranda of the Salt Lake House. The genial Nat Stein is arranging the way-bill. Our baggage (the Overland passenger is only allowed twenty-five pounds) is being put aboard, and we are shaking hands, at a rate altogether furious, with Mormon and Gentile. Among the former are Brothers Stenhouse, Caine, Clawson, and Townsend; and among the latter are Harry Riccard, the big-hearted English mountaineer (though once he wore white kids and swallow-tails in Regent Street, *The Newgate prison of New York is called The Tombs, from being built to resemble an Egyptian mausoleum.