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 cow-hide 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 out,
and the town is still as a graveyard.