ons are connected with Doctor Somebody's
Medicine Show; but I don't care if they are. They are Indians--more
Indians than I have seen in one crowd at one time since Buffalo Bill was
at Madison Square Garden last spring. I shall look them over."

So I ran and caught up with them--but they were not Indians. They were
genuine Egyptian acrobats, connected with a traveling carnival company.
When Moses transmitted the divine command to the Children of Israel that
they should spoil the Egyptians, the Children of Israel certainly did a
mighty thorough job of it. That was several thousand years ago and those
Egyptians I saw were still spoiled. I noticed it as soon as I got close
to them.

In Salt Lake City I saw half a dozen Indians, but in a preserved form
only. They were on display in a museum devoted to relics of the early
days. In my opinion Indians do not make very good preserves, especially
when they have been in stock a long time and have become shopworn, as
was the case with these goods. Personally, I would not care to invest.
Besides, there was no telling how old they were. They had been dug out,
mummified, from the cliff-dwellers' ruins in the southern part of the
state, along with their household goods, their domestic utensils, their
weapons of war and their ornaments; and there they were laid out in
glass cases for modern eyes to see. There were plenty of other
interesting exhibits in this museum, including several of Brigham
Young's suits of clothes. For a man busied with statecraft and military
affairs and domestic matters, Brigham Young must have changed clothes
pretty often. I couldn't keep from wondering how a man with a family
like his was found the time for it.

To my mind the most interesting relic in the whole collection was the
spry octogenarian who acted as guide and showed us through the
place--for he was one of the few living links between the Old West and
the New. As a boy-convert to Mormonism he came across the desert with
the second expedition that fled westward from Gentile persecution after
Brigham Young had blazed the trail. He was a pony express rider in the
days of the overland mail service. He was also an Indian fighter--one of
the trophies he showed was a scalp of his own raising practically, he
having been present when it was raised by a friendly Indian scout from
the head of the hostile who originally owned it--and he had lived in
Salt Lake City when it was a collection of log shanties with