Nobody seems to know how many wives Brigham Young has.  Some set the number as high as eighty, in which case his children must be too numerous to mention.  Each wife has a room to herself.  These rooms are large and airy, and I suppose they are supplied with all the modern improvements.  But never having been invited to visit them I can't speak very definitely about this.  When I left the Prophet he shook me cordially by the hand, and invited me to call again.  This was flattering, because if he dislikes a man at the first interview he never sees him again.  He made no allusion to the "letter" I had written about his community.  Outside guards were pacing up and down before the gateway, but they smiled upon me sweetly.  The veranda was crowded with Gentile miners, who seemed to be surprised that I didn't return in a wooden overcoat, with my throat neatly laid open from ear to ear. _______________ I go to the Theatre to-night.  I was an actor once, myself.  I supported Edwin Forrest at a theatre in Philadelphia.  I played a pantomimic part.  I removed the chairs between scenes, and I did it so neatly that Mr. F. said I would make a cabinet-maker if I "applied" myself. _______________ The parquette of the theatre is occupied exclusively by the Mormons and their wives and children.  They wouldn't let a Gentile in there any more than they would a serpent.  In the side seats are those of President Young's wives who go the play, and a large and varied assortment of children.  It is an odd sight to see a jovial old Mormon file down the parquette aisle with ten or twenty robust wives at his heels.  Yet this spectacle may be witnessed every night the theatre is opened.  The dress circle is chiefly occupied by the officers from Camp Douglas and the Gentile Merchants.  The upper circles are filled by the private soldiers and Mormon boys.  I feel bound to say that a Mormon audience is quite as appreciative as any other kind of an audience.  They prefer comedy to tragedy. Sentimental plays, for obvious reasons, are unpopular with them.  It will be remembered that when C. Melnotte, in the Lady of Lyons, comes home from the wars, he folds Pauline to his heaving heart and makes several remarks of an impassioned and slobbering character.  One night when the Lady of Lyons was produced here, an aged Mormon arose and went out with his twenty-four wives, angrily stating that he wouldn't sit and see a play where a man made such a cussed fuss over one woman. Brigham Young usually sits in the middle of the parquette, in a rocking-chair, and with his hat on.  He does not escort his wives to the theatre.  They go alone.  When the play drags he either falls into a tranquil sleep or walks out.  He wears in winter time a green wrapper, and his hat in the style introduced into this country by Louis Kossuth, Esq. the liberator of Hungaria.  I invested a dollar in the liberty of Hungaria nearly fifteen years ago.