consented, and went to the two grandmothers for their consent:--'No
objection,' said the old dames in a breath, 'but you'll have to marry
us as well. We cannot think of separating the family.' After a
little cosy hesitation on my part, I finally agreed to swallow the
two old venerable antiquities as a sort of sauce to the other five."

Under these circumstances, who can wonder at Brigham Young being the
most highly married man in the Republic? In a word, he is too much
married--indeed, if I were he, I should say two hundred and too much
married.

As I see my esteemed friend Joe Whitton, of Niblo's Garden, sitting
right before me, I will give him an anecdote which he will
appreciate. There is considerable barter in Salt Lake City--horses
and cows are good for hundred-dollar greenbacks, while pigs, dogs,
cats, babies, and pickaxes are the fractional currency. I dare say
my friend Joe Whitton would be as much astonished as I was after my
first lecture. Seeing a splendid house I naturally began to reckon
my spondulics. Full of this Pactolean vision, I went into my
treasurer's room.

"Now, Hingston, my boy, let us see what the proceeds are! We shall
soon make a fortune at this rate."

Hingston with the solemnity of a cashier, then read the proceeds of
the lecture:

"Three cows, one with horns, and two without, but not a stumptail;
fourteen pigs, alive and grunting; seventeen hams, sugar cured; three
babies in arms, two of them cutting their teeth, and the other