r or against polygamy. It's the Elders' business, an' between you an'
me I don't think it's going on much longer. You'll 'ear them in the
'ouse to-morrer talkin' as if it was spreadin' all over America. The
Swedes they think it _his_. I know it hisn't."

"But you've got your land all right."

"Oh, yes, we've got our land an' we never say aught against polygamy o'
course--father an' mother an' me."

It strikes me that there is a fraud somewhere. You've never heard of the
rice-Christians, have you?

I should have liked to have spoken to the maiden at length, but she
dived into the Zion Co-op. and a man captured me, saying that it was my
bounden duty to see the sights of Salt Lake. These comprised the
egg-shaped Tabernacle, the Beehive, and town houses of Brigham Young;
the same great ruffian's tomb with assorted samples of his wives
sleeping round him (just as the eleven faithful ones sleep round the
ashes of Runjit Singh outside Fort Lahore), and one or two other
curiosities. But all these things have been described by abler pens than
mine. The animal-houses where Brigham used to pack his wives are grubby
villas; the Tabernacle is a shingled fraud, and the Tithing House where
all the revenue returns seem to be made, much resembles a stable. The
Mormons have a paper currency of their own--ecclesiastical bank-notes
which are exchanged for local produce. But the little boys of the place
prefer the bullion of the Gentiles. It is not pleasant to be taken round
a township with your guide stopping before every third house to say:
"That's where Elder so and so kept Amelia Bathershins, his fifth
wife--no, his third. Amelia she was took on after Keziah, but Keziah was
the Elder's pet, an' he didn't dare to let Amelia come across Keziah for
fear of her spilin' Keziah's beauty." The Mussulmans are quite right.
The minute that all the domestic details of polygamy are discussed in
the mouths of the people, that institution is ready to fall. I shook off
my guide when he had told me his very last doubtful tale, and went on
alone. An ordered peace and a perfection of quiet luxury is the note of
the city of Salt Lake. The houses stand in generous and well-groomed
grass-plots, none very much worse or better than their neighbours.
Creepers grow over the house fronts, and there is a very pleasant music
of wind among the trees in the vast empty streets bringing a smell of
hay and the flowers of summer.

On a tableland overlooking all the