The $10 tickets will admit only one lady with the gentleman; for all extra $2 each must be paid. In the less splendid fêtes $2 50 would be the total price. Premiums are offered when the time draws nigh, but space is limited, and many a Jacob is shorn of his glory by appearing with only Rachel for a follower, and without his train of Leahs, Zilpahs, and Billahs.
An account of the last ball me may be abridged. The hall was tastefully and elegantly decorated; the affecting motto, "Our Mountain Home," conspicuouly placed among hangings and evergreens, was highly effective. At 4 P.M. the Prophet and ex-President entered, and "order was called." (N.B.—Might not this be tried to a purpose in a London ball-room?) Ascending a kind of platform, with uplifted hands he blessed those present. Farther East I have heard of the reverse being done, especially by the maître du logis. He then descended to the boards and led off the first cotillon. At 8 P.M. supper was announced; covers for 250 persons had been laid by Mr. Candland, "mine host" of "The Globe." On the following page will be found the list of the somewhat substantial goodies that formed the carte.
It will be observed that the cuisine in Utah Territory has some novelties, such as bear and beaver. The former meat is a favorite throughout the West, especially when the animal is fresh from feeding; after hibernation it is hard and lean. In the Himalayas many a sportsman, after mastering an artificial aversion to eat bear's grease, has enjoyed a grill of "cuffy." The paws, which not a little resemble the human hand, are excellent—experto crede. I can not pronounce ex cathedrâ upon beavers' tails; there is no reason, however, why they should be inferior to the appendage of a Cape sheep. "Slaw"—according to my informants—is synonymous with sauer-kraut. Mountain, Pioneer, and Snowballs are unknown to me, except by their names, which are certainly patriotic, if not descriptive.
After supper dancing was resumed with spirit, and in its intervals popular songs and duets were performed by the best musicians. The "finest party of the season" ended as it began, with prayer and benediction, at 5 A.M.—thirteen successive mortal hours—it shows a solid power of enduring enjoyments! And, probably, the revelers wended their way home chanting some kind of national hymn like this, to the tune of the "Ole Kentucky shore:"
"Let the chorus still be sung,
Long live Brother Brigham Young.
And blessed be the Vale of Deserét—rét—rét!
And blessed be the Vale of Deserét."
Returning to the hotel, we found the justiciary and the official party safely arrived; they had been delayed three days at Foot of Ridge Station, but they could not complain of the pace at which they came in. The judge was already in confab with a Pennsyl-
