San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1882-11-23
mantle of October hangs softly on the

turned TO gold. and the deep green Of
the solemn pines hes farther back
against the soft blue of the autumn
sky. The sigh of the approaching
storm is heard at eventide, and the
hostile Indian comes into the reserva.
ton to get some arnica for his chill
blain and to heal up the old feeling of
intolerance on the part of the pale
face.
He leaves the glorious picture of
mountain and glen, the wide sweep of
magnificent nature, where thousand
gorgeous dyes are spread over the re-
mains of the dead summer, and fold
ing his tepee, he steals into the home
of the white man that he may be once
more at peace with the world.
! The hectic of the dying year sad
dens and depresses him, for is it not
an emblem to him of the death of his
race? Is it not to him an assurance
that IN the golden ultimately, the red
man will be sought for on the face of
the earth and he will not be able to
represent. He will not be there
either in person or by proxy. Here
and there may be found the little 81
lent mounds with some glass beads
and teeth in them, but the silent
warrior with the Roman nose will not
be there. ...... Z
The Indian agent will have large,
conservative cemetery on his hands
and the brave warrior will be march
ing single file through the corridors
of the hence, $50 F4l
| At this moment he does not look
romantic. Clothed in coffee sack
and a little brief authority he would
not make good vegnette for SIS
bill. His wife, too, looks care-worn
and the old glad light is not in her
eye. Her gunny-sack dolman is not
what 1T once was, and her beautifully
arched foot has spread out over the
reservation more than it used to. Her
step has lost it's old elasticity and SO
have her suspenders.
Autumn brings to her nothing but
regret for the past and hopelessness
for the future. The cold and cruel
winter will bring her nothing but Bit
ter memories and condemned govern
ment grub. The solemn hush of ma
ture and the gorgeous coloring Of the
forest do not awake thrill in her
wild heart. She cares not for the
dead summer or the mellow mist of
the grand old mountains, .-r y,,,e- e
She doesn't care two cents. She
knows that no sealskin sacque will
come to her on = the Christmas trees
and the glad welcome of the placid
and select oyster is not for her.
Is it surprising, then, that to this
decaying belle of an old family the
sparkle of hope is unknown? Can we
wonder,as we contemplate her history,
that to her the soldier pantaloons of
last year and the bullwhacker's straw
hat of 10 are obnoxious?~ - ''.-
She is like her sex and, her Joy is
fractured by the knowledge that her
moccasins are down at the heel and
her stockings existing in the realms
of fancy, We should not look with
scorn upon Mrs. Rise-up- William Ri
ley for hope is dead in her breast, and
the wigwam is desolate in the sage
brush. =. '..'. lS a y
Daughter of a great nation, we are
not mad at you. You are not to be
blamed because the Republican party
has busted your crust. We do not
hate you because you eat your steak
rare and wear yotir own hair. It is
your own right to do SO if you wish.
Brace up, therefore, and take a tum-
BILE, as it were, and try to be cheerful.
We will not massacre you if you will
not massacre us. All we want ispeace,
and you can wear what you like, only
were something, if you please, when
YOU come into our society. We do
not ask you to conform strictly to our
false and peculiar costumes, but
wear something to protect you from
the chilling blasts of winter and you
will win our respect. You needn't
mingle in our society much If you do
not choose to, but wrap yourself up
in most any kind of chothing that will
silence the tongue of SANDER, and try
to quit drinking. You would get
along first rate if you would only let
liquor alone. Do not try to drown
your sorrows in the flowing bowl.
It's expensive and unsatisfactory,
Take our advice and swear off. We
have tried it, and we know what we
are talking about.
You have q glorious future before
YOU, if you will cease to seek the
vintage of the pale face, and monkey
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