CHAPTER XIII.

We had a fine supper, of the freshest meats and fowls and vegetables--a

great variety and as great abundance. We walked about the streets some,

afterward, and glanced in at shops and stores; and there was fascination

in surreptitiously staring at every creature we took to be a Mormon.

This was fairy-land to us, to all intents and purposes--a land of

enchantment, and goblins, and awful mystery. We felt a curiosity to ask

every child how many mothers it had, and if it could tell them apart; and

we experienced a thrill every time a dwelling-house door opened and shut

as we passed, disclosing a glimpse of human heads and backs and

shoulders--for we so longed to have a good satisfying look at a Mormon

family in all its comprehensive ampleness, disposed in the customary

concentric rings of its home circle.

By and by the Acting Governor of the Territory introduced us to other

"Gentiles," and we spent a sociable hour with them. "Gentiles" are

people who are not Mormons. Our fellow-passenger, Bemis, took care of

himself, during this part of the evening, and did not make an

overpowering success of it, either, for he came into our room in the

hotel about eleven o'clock, full of cheerfulness, and talking loosely,

disjointedly and indiscriminately, and every now and then tugging out a

ragged word by the roots that had more hiccups than syllables in it.

This, together with his hanging his coat on the floor on one side of a

chair, and his vest on the floor on the other side, and piling his pants

on the floor just in front of the same chair, and then comtemplating the

general result with superstitious awe, and finally pronouncing it "too

many for him" and going to bed with his boots on, led us to fear that

something he had eaten had not agreed with him.

But we knew afterward that it was something he had been drinking. It was

the exclusively Mormon refresher, "valley tan."

Valley tan (or, at least, one form of valley tan) is a kind of whisky,

or first cousin to it; is of Mormon invention and manufactured only in

Utah. Tradition says it is made of (imported) fire and brimstone. If I

remember rightly no public drinking saloons were allowed in the kingdom

by Brigham Young, and no private drinking permitted among the faithful,

except they confined themselves to "valley tan."

Next day we strolled about everywhere through the broad, straight, level

streets, and enjoyed the pleasant strangeness of a city of fifteen

thousand inhabitants with no loafers perceptible in it; and no visible

drunkards or noisy people; a limpid stream rippling and dancing through

every street in place of a filthy gutter; block after block of trim

dwellings, built of "frame" and sunburned brick--a great thriving orchard

and garden behind every one of them, apparently--branches from the street

stream winding and sparkling among the garden beds and fruit trees--and a

grand general air of neatness, repair, thrift and comfort, around and

about and over the whole. And everywhere were workshops, factories, and

all manner of industries; and intent faces and busy hands were to be seen

wherever one looked; and in one's ears was the ceaseless clink of

hammers, the buzz of trade and the contented hum of drums and fly-wheels.

The armorial crest of my own State consisted of two dissolute bears

holding up the head of a dead and gone cask between them and making the

pertinent remark, "UNITED, WE STAND--(hic!)--DIVIDED, WE FALL." It was

always too figurative for the author of this book. But the Mormon crest

was easy. And it was simple, unostentatious, and fitted like a glove.

It was a representation of a GOLDEN BEEHIVE, with the bees all at work!

The city lies in the edge of a level plain as broad as the State of

Connecticut, and crouches close down to the ground under a curving wall

of mighty mountains whose heads are hidden in the clouds, and whose

shoulders bear relics of the snows of winter all the summer long.

Seen from one of these dizzy heights, twelve or fifteen miles off, Great

Salt Lake City is toned down and diminished till it is suggestive of a

child's toy-village reposing under the majestic protection of the Chinese

wall.

On some of those mountains, to the southwest, it had been raining every

day for two weeks, but not a drop had fallen in the city. And on hot

days in late spring and early autumn the citizens could quit fanning and

growling and go out and cool off by looking at the luxury of a glorious

snow-storm going on in the mountains. They could enjoy it at a distance,

at those seasons, every day, though no snow would fall in their streets,

or anywhere near them.

Salt Lake City was healthy--an extremely healthy city.

They declared there was only one physician in the place and he was

arrested every week regularly and held to answer under the vagrant act

for having "no visible means of support." They always give you a good

substantial article of truth in Salt Lake, and good measure and good

weight, too. [Very often, if you wished to weigh one of their airiest

little commonplace statements you would want the hay scales.]

We desired to visit the famous inland sea, the American "Dead Sea," the

great Salt Lake--seventeen miles, horseback, from the city--for we had

dreamed about it, and thought about it, and talked about it, and yearned

to see it, all the first part of our trip; but now when it was only arm's

length away it had suddenly lost nearly every bit of its interest. And

so we put it off, in a sort of general way, till next day--and that was

the last we ever thought of it. We dined with some hospitable Gentiles;

and visited the foundation of the prodigious temple; and talked long with

that shrewd Connecticut Yankee, Heber C. Kimball (since deceased), a

saint of high degree and a mighty man of commerce.

We saw the "Tithing-House," and the "Lion House," and I do not know or

remember how many more church and government buildings of various kinds

and curious names. We flitted hither and thither and enjoyed every hour,

and picked up a great deal of useful information and entertaining

nonsense, and went to bed at night satisfied.

The second day, we made the acquaintance of Mr. Street (since deceased)

and put on white shirts and went and paid a state visit to the king.

He seemed a quiet, kindly, easy-mannered, dignified, self-possessed old

gentleman of fifty-five or sixty, and had a gentle craft in his eye that

probably belonged there. He was very simply dressed and was just taking

off a straw hat as we entered. He talked about Utah, and the Indians,

and Nevada, and general American matters and questions, with our

secretary and certain government officials who came with us. But he

never paid any attention to me, notwithstanding I made several attempts

to "draw him out" on federal politics and his high handed attitude toward

Congress. I thought some of the things I said were rather fine. But he

merely looked around at me, at distant intervals, something as I have

seen a benignant old cat look around to see which kitten was meddling

with her tail.

By and by I subsided into an indignant silence, and so sat until the end,

hot and flushed, and execrating him in my heart for an ignorant savage.

But he was calm. His conversation with those gentlemen flowed on as

sweetly and peacefully and musically as any summer brook. When the

audience was ended and we were retiring from the presence, he put his

hand on my head, beamed down on me in an admiring way and said to my

brother:

"Ah--your child, I presume? Boy, or girl?"

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