April 29th.—When we left Denver City President Grant, with Mrs. Grant and the Princess Royal, as the American wags called her, was in the train, and for glory’s sake a crowd had assembled at Cheyenne to salute the great man, soldiers and an ear-racking band being on the platform. The President was no doubt a man who had rendered signal service to his country, but he was not of the quality which would find favour with the culture of Boston or the refinement of New York. The more delicately strung of his countrymen looked upon him as common and boorish. The second Duke of Wellington used to tell a good story of him. The Duke always felt it due to the name of his illustrious father, when any famous warrior came to England, to offer him an entertainment at Apsley House. When General Grant came to England he was accordingly invited there to dinner. When he arrived and saw the portrait of the great Duke, he could find nothing more appropriate to say than: “Ah! I have commanded more Divisions than that man ever commanded Regiments, and yet what a lot of talk there has been about him.” “Yes,” answered the Duke in his droll, dry way, “I believe he was considered a meritorious person in his day.” The second Duke was really a very witty man, and the fun of his conversation was enhanced by his rather grotesque appearance, and his humorous manner. Alfred Montgomery used to imitate him, as he well knew, but they loved one another dearly, and the Duke cared not one whit. One day at luncheon at Lady Dorothy Neville’s Mr. Edmund Yates was present. Alfred being mentioned, naturally the guests began telling stories of his wit. Yates turned round to the Duke and said: “You know, Mr. Montgomery is very fond of mimicking your Grace.” The Duke answered: “Yes! I know it, but let me give you a bit of advice, Mr. Yates. Don’t _you_ try to mimic a gentleman!” The Duke was a most admirable note writer. He told me how once Lady Dorothy Neville wrote to him saying that she was about restoring the dear little church at Danksfee, and was asking her friends to help; so, feeling sure that he would wish to do something for the church in which he had so often worshipped, she had put down his name for one hundred pounds. The answer was characteristic. He, too, was restoring the church at Strathfieldsaye, and knowing that Lady Dorothy would wish to contribute in memory of old days he had put down her name for one hundred pounds. “In the circumstances no money need pass between us.” But I am wandering and must hasten back to Cheyenne. We had some trouble with our luggage, but when that was disposed of and we had had luncheon we started for Ogden and Salt Lake City. It took us thirty-five hours to reach Ogden.