Morning journal and courier., 1893-02-13

and could not be discouraged by the world, or overcome by the sharpness of our death.
 Therefore, says our fearless Master and Lord to you and to me, every one that shall confess me before men, him will confess before my Father which is in before men, him will also deny before my Father which is in heaven.
 The Digger Legend of the Little Red
 Man.
 From the San Francisco Chronicle
 The legend of the Li:tls Red Man is, like the most of the stories of the DiggeIe, somewhat incomplete, but it resembles go closely the stories that have been handed down by our own juvenile writers of the past that I have thought best to relate it in my own way, as the pigeon English of the Indian is not easily understood.
 Many years ago the capitan of the Pam bio Tribe lay very sick in his wickiup. In vain did the medicine man brew his herbs, apply his lamentations, beat his tomtom, and shake his rattle. The fever could not bs checked and the old man steadily sank. All the tribe mourned, and there was much feasting and self-torture, but the bad spirit that had sent the fever could not be ap- peased. One night the capitan's youngest daughter had 8 dream; there appeared to her the little red man, who told her that be was the bad spirit who had sent the fever, but that if she would follow him he would give her an herb which when steeped l in water would heel the sick. Sue arose and followed him, and after great many hours of tramping across the hills and val leys they came to 8 mighty gorge, where 1 the wonderful "fever plant" grew. The little red man plucked the herbs from the rocks, gave them to her and told her to hasten back to her father.
 It was only a dream but the girl could not forget it, and the next day she left \ the camp and endeavored to find the gorge where grew the healing herbs. For several | days she sought in vain, and then as ste was about to return she heard voice whisper Follow" and saw the footprints | of man forming in the sand before hes. 1 She obeyed the voice and followed and her i invisible guide led her to the gorge where l grew the healing herbs. She put forth her hand to pluck them, when voice cried l "Stopl" and the little red man stood be- l fore her.
 l "You must not touch the herbs now,' he said, 'but follow me. This is the second l time you have seen me. Now you shall see the home of the bad spirit. Follow ' l Again she followed, for she feared the 1 little red man and was xious to please | him. They entered the gloomy gorge, ! where all was as silent as death, where the l birds and bees and flowers were of stone, and came to a mighty cavern, the walls l and roof of which were covered with gilt I tering crystals that flashed forth all the colors of the rainbow. In one corner of this lonely cavern was a little spring thA, l sparkled and sang with entrancing melody. 1 The little red man turned to her and said "This is the home of the bad spirit that l sent the fever to your father 1 am he l can save your fathers life, but you must l promise that when you have taken the herbs to him you will return to me, drink
 of the singing spring and remain with me | forever.
 But the cspitan's daughter was fright. ened. The little red man was old and hid
 eous, and very bad spirit. She fled l from him and returned to her home, and
 as she entered her fathers teepse the old 1 ospitan turned his face to the wall and died. And unto this day the Diggers be. { leve that the little red man lives in a won l derful cavern somewhere in the Coas, I range, and sends sickness upon them, bs- cause the capitsn's daughter would not drink of the singing spring and Iemsin | With him forever.
 1 fin Anecdote of Colonel Hisgtnson. 1 From the Caifornian.I
 ] P1rroEelly Colonel Higginson is no ] quite so suave ss most of the men of let i ters in Boston, He has been known or 1 various occasions, ss in the Case Of Fred DoUglsss. to say things that have caased ! his most judicious friends to grlsve deep l ly. l heard, the other day, a rather good
 ansedote, however, where younger work CT in the literary craft made the retort
 courteous to the colonel, and he took il l with better grace than might have beer i expected. The young man was ceiling or
 him, snd in the course of conversation tho
 coloneps poetry having been under discus
 sion, the novice said with simplicity: 'I
 also have dabbled in poetry, Colonel, snG l if you have never seen any of my verses
 would take great pleasure in sending yot ! soms."
 "Ah,' estd the colonel, ''have they beer
 publisheds"
 sNot in book form, but in various peri odicals and magazines; some of them il
 the Century," replied the beginner-witl perhaps touch of pardonable pride II
 his closing tone.
 "The Century," said the colonel, witf
 oracular emphasis, ''does not publish very good poetry"
 This was not espeoi oislly encouraging t.
 the young poet, and he changed the con
 versation, but on rising to go he happened
 to remember that his last poem in the Cent
 ury had enjoyed rather distinguishes
 companionship, 80 he turned at the dool
 and eaid: "Colonel, have no doubt tha
 the Century publishes some pretty baa