From Here We Are To Go To Salt Lake
City For A Week Or Two.
THE WALKER HOUSE, SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH.
September, 1888.
THE weather is still very warm, but not hot enough to keep us from
going to the lake as usual this morning. The ride is about eighteen
miles long, and is always more or less pleasant. The cars, often long
trains, are narrow gauge, open, and airy. The bathing is delightful,
but wholly unlike anything to be found elsewhere. The wonderfully
clear water is cool and exhilarating, but to swim in it is impossible,
it is so heavy from its large percentage of salt. So every one floats,
but not at all as one floats in other waters. We lie upon our backs,
of course - at least we think we do - but our feet are always out of the
water, and our heads straight up, with large straw hats upon them.
They have a way of forming human chains on the water that often
startles one at first. They are made by hooking one's arms close to
the shoulder over the ankles of another person, still another body
hooking on to you, and so on. Then each one will stretch his or her
arms out and paddle backward, and in this way we can go about without
much effort, and can see all the funny things going on around us. As I
am rather tall, second position in a chain is almost always given to
me, and my first acquaintance with masculine toes close to my face
came very near being disastrous.
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