220 BESIDE THE GREAT SALT LAKE. 



us ; not one paused in our neighborhood, except- 

 ing long enough to look at us, and express its 

 opinion in loud and not very polite tones. 



It was then and there that we noticed our 

 pasture ; the entrance was beside us. Shall we 

 go in ? was always the question before an in- 

 closure. We looked over the wall. It was 

 plainly the abode of horses, meek workaday be- 

 ings, who certainly would not resent our intru- 

 sion. Oak-brush was there in plenty, and that 

 is the chosen home of the magpie. We hesi- 

 tated ; we started for the gate. It was held in 

 place by a rope elaborately and securely tied in 

 many knots ; but we had learned something 

 about the gates of this " promised land," that 

 between the posts and the stone wall may usu- 

 ally be found space enough to slip through 

 without disturbing the fastenings. 



In that country no one goes through a gate 

 who can possibly go around it, and well is it 

 indeed for the stranger and the wayfarer in 

 " Zion " that such is the custom, for the idiosyn- 

 crasies of gates were endless ; they agreed only in 

 never fitting their place and never opening prop- 

 erly. If the gate was in one piece, it sagged so 

 that it must be lifted ; or it had lost one hinge, 

 and fell over on the rash individual who loos- 

 ened the fastenings ; or it was about falling to 

 pieces, and must be handled like a piece of 



