There is an eccentric Mormon at Salt Lake City of the name of W.W. Phelps. He is from Cortland, State of New York, and has been a Saint for a good many years. It is said he enacts the character of the Devil, with a pea-green tail, in the Mormon initiation ceremonies. He also published an almanac, in which he blends astronomy with short moral essays, and suggestions in regard to the proper management of hens. He also contributes a poem, entitled "The Tombs," to his almanac for the current year, from which I quote the last verse:-- "Choose ye: to rest with stately grooms; Just such a place there is for sleeping; Where everything, in common keeping, Is free from want and worth and weeping; There folly's harvest is a reaping. Down in the grave among the tombs." Now, I know that poets and tin-pedlars are "licensed," but why does W.W.P. advise us to sleep in the barn with the ostlers? These are the most dismal tombs on record, not except the Tomb of the Capulets, the Tombs of New York, or the Toombs of Georgia. Under the head of "OLD Sayings," Mr. P. publishes the following. There is a modesty about the last "saying" which will be pretty apt to strike the reader:-- "The Lord does good and Satan evil, said Moses. Sun and moon, see me conquer, said Joshua. Virtue exalts a woman, said David. Fools and folly frolic, said Solomon. Judgments belong to God, said Isaiah. The path of the just is plain, said Jeremiah. The soul that sins dies, said Ezekiel. The wicked do wicked, said Daniel. Ephraim fled and hid, said Hosea. The Gentiles war and waste, said Joel. The second reign is peace and plenty, said Amos. Zion is the house of the gods, said Obadiah, A fish saved me, said Jonah. Our Lion will be terrible, said Micah. Doctor, cure yourself, said the Saviour. Live to live again, said W.W. Phelps." 4.16. HURRAH FOR THE ROAD! TIME, Wednesday afternoon, February 10. The Overland Stage, Mr. William Glover on the box, stands before the veranda of the Salt Lake House. The genial Nat Stein is arranging the waybill. Our baggage (the Overland passenger is allowed twenty-five pounds) is being put aboard, and we are shaking hands, at a rate altogether furious, with Mormon and Gentile. Among the former are Brothers Stenhouse, Caine, Clawson and Townsend; among the latter are Harry Riccard, the big-hearted English mountaineer (though once he wore white kids and swallow-tails in Regent Street, and in boyhood went to school with Miss Edgeworth, the novelist), the daring explorer Rood, from Wisconsin; th e Rev. James McCormick, missionary, who distributes pasteboard tracts among the Bannock miners; and the pleasing child of gore, Captain D. B. Stover, of the commissary department.