Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1889-01-16

From Colorado.
A FEW JoTTINGs FOR THE SPECTATOR.

Correspondence Of the SPECTATOR
MAID OF THE MIST MINE, Colo,
January, 2, 1889.
In the Rocky Mountains the eternal
whiteness has stolen down towards the
foot hills and the brown mantle of autumn
has hung softly on the swelling divide,
while along the winding streams, cotton
wood and willow have turned to gold, and
the deep green of the solemn pines lies
farther back against the soft blue OF the
autumn sky. The sigh of the approaching
storm is heard at eventide, and the snow
begins to come in torrents, and already
many jolly fellow has turned up his toes
with his boots on, caused by what is called
snow slides, but are equal to the avalanches
of Switzerland.
The hostile Indian comes into thereser-
walton to get some arnica for his chilblains,
and to heal up the old feeling of intole-
rance on the part of pale-face.
He leaves the glorious picture OF noun
tain and glen, the wide sweep of magnlh-
cent nature, where thousand gorgeous
dyes are spread over the remains OF the
dead summer, and folding his tepee, ne
steals into the home of the whits man that
be may be once more az peace with the
world.
The be cite of the dying year saddens and
depresses him, for is it not an emblem to
him of the death of his race? Is it not 10
him an assurance that in the golden future
the red man will be- sought for Oh the face
of the earth and he will not be found He
will not be here either in person or by
proxy. Here and there may be found the
little silent mounds with some glass beads
and teeth in them, but the silent warrior
with the Roman nose will not be there.
The Indian agent will have large con-
servatiye cemetery on his hands, and the
brave warrior will be marching single file
through the corridors of the spirit world.
At this moment he does not look roman
| tic, clothed in o coffee sack and little
brief authority. He would not make a
good vignette on SIS bill. His wife, too,
looks careworn, and the old glad light is
not in her eye. Her gunny sack dolman is
not what it once was, and her beautiful
arched foot spreads out over the reserva-
ton more than it used to do. 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 cuAd and cruel winter will bring her
nothing hut bitter memories and condemn
ed government grub The solemn hush of
nature, and the gorgeous coloring of the
forest, do not awake a thrill in her wild
heart. She cares not for the dead summer
or the mellow mist of the grand old noun
tains. She doesn't care two cents. She
knows that no sealskin sacque will come to
her on Christmas tree, and tbs glad well
come of the placid and select oyster is not
for her.
III e1,k 70 r do o.,
belle of an old family the sparkle of hope
is unknown.
Can We wonder, az We contemplate htr
history, that TO her the soldier pantaloons
of last year, and the bullwhscker's, straw
hat of '79 are obnoxious. She is like her
sex, and her joy is fractured by the knowl-
edge 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-np William Riley for
hope is dead in her breast, and the wig
wan is desolate in the sage brush
Daughters of a great nation, we are not
mad at you, you are not to be blamed
because the Republican party has busted
your crdst; we do not hate you because you
eat your steak rare, and wear your own
hair. 1t is your own right to do so if you
wish Rracu up, therefore, and take q
tumble, as it we're, and try to be cheerful.
We will massacre you if you will not mas
sacre US. All we want is peace, and you
can wear what you like, only wear some
thing, if you please, when you come into
our society. We do not ask you to con-
form strictly to our false and peculiar cos
tunes, but wear something to protect you
from the chilling blast of winter, and you
will win our respect. You need not mingle
in our society much if you do not choose
to. but wrap yourself up in most any kind
of clothing that will silence the tongue OF
SANDER, AID 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 expen-
sive and unsatisfactory. Take our advice
and swear off. We have tried it, and we
know what we are talking abont.
AN OLD AUGUSTA Boy.