The Portland daily press., 1870-06-17
e'''"s $500 per annun,, ia adrouce.
Friday Morning, June II 1870.
The Noble IIed Nla,
RcRIIA.AND

Washington Correspondence Chicago Trbupe1
A rural friend came here the other dav and
asked me to show him through the Patent OF
flee. We saw the yellow buckskin breaches
OF Washington, his tent poles, and his camp
equipaee, and then his bolster cases embroid-
cred by his wiie's hand. My aged friend, who
had recently lost his wife. watered at the eyes
when he saw this last; for, no doubt, he
thought OF his own old sweetheart, quilting
away, on the old-fashiOneJ quilting frame, the
very coyellets which now make him warm of
nights, while she was lying out in the cold
graveyard. Those widower's tears made Wash
lnslon and his wife rise up before me alive.
and went over the same old museum with
as keen an interest for the hundredth as for
the first visit. We saw the jewel-hited swords
given TO sailors and envoys. long since deeeas
ed, Dut wrested away by the jealous republic;
and the narrow -chested coat which wrapped
the gaunt body of Jackson on the dav of New
Orleans hung within the glass case in belpless
appeal. So, through thousands of patent mo-
dels We took our way, until at last we reached
the Land Office, and the communicative Com
missioner took us into his separate museum.
Come here, Curtis!" he said. I" want Won
to put on Big Bulls holiday suit"
An attendant stood upon chair-a small
modest, smooth-faced man-and the Commis-
siohef passed up to him out OF box a bundle
OF gear, made of buffalos horns. robe fore
locks and maGe, and the man fitted the thing
on his head. Immediately he was metamor.
phosed to devil, with row OF horns reach
ing from his ears to his heels, and thick. busbv
hair OF the buffalo shook round his chops and
heart.
Meet that figure on the field of torture af-
ter The battle is done," said the Commission
er, and you would think Satan was waiting
right by TOR your soul. That was fbe fayorite
uress OF Big Du,l: a Cheyenne chief of gigantic
size, who died in battle with the Pawnees.
putting ms hands over his ears and rushing
into death, while his wife Drained her two in
fants, and died fighting with him."
The Commissioner then showed us a GALA
dress OF Brule-SiOux brave, made entirely of
the cured skin of human scalps, and frinoed
with the long locks of white females.
See here" he said, this scalp has an au-
burn thread running through it; by the light
l. shines like dark gold. This scalp is flaxen,
and is soft as boys. Those short ones are
chiiarens scalps. And here is one with sug-
geston OF gray-an old womans mayben
My widower friends eyes were fun AGAIN.
and resisted quicker" came to bis mouth.
There was the hair that had been the pride
OF its wearer when she came to the arms of
some strong young pioneer bridegroom. and
lald 1t upon his breast after the labor of the
day. Children had played with it, twining it
around their fingers. and beneath it had lain
'no years vi housekeeping cares, the dreams
OF competence and independence, the yearn-
ing OF the woman's prayer that the Kingdom
OF God might come and His peace flow like
river. The gray strands had crept into it like
the first gray lights into the sky at evening,
and the peace OF home and love which passeth
understanding had shown from the failing ewes
beneath those changing tresses. She pined
not, because the wealth and beauty of their
former times were reproduced in her blooming
girls, and then she felt realization that her
years had not been lived and tried in vain, but
that, as a trOntiersman's wife, she had become
one of the pilgrim mothers of a Western race.
Then, in one moment, out Of the ground
arise the painted shapes OF darkness; the earth
becomes yell. Stricken at the feet of some
savage the bleeding figure lies; bloody hands
are twisted in these hairs of gray; the knife
describes the circle; the shining glory of the
NATIONS head bangles at the Indians knee
among the fringes of the bloody shirt
Here it is in the Patent Office making the
widower's eyes water as he feels the story, and
then the Commissioner says:
Have you seen Spotted Tail and Swift
Bear? They were here this morning, and are
a fine looking set of Chiefs"
Yes" says the widower, still looking at the
old woman's scalp, 81 heard that they had
been here"