Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1895-08-09
GODDESS OF CRIMPS.
she SHOWED THE soUAws HOW TO
WAVE THEIR HAIR.

and Carried tho News tn the Indian
Csmp-Amuslng RecoiIections of q From
tier Army Onicer's wife.
"Childrcn are alike the world over" Is
an oft heard remark. So Is woman, say /,
when 1t comes TO longing for the beauti-
full, for what she considers personal adorn-
ment. In recalling my early married lifo,
away back in the sixties, spent in the
heart of an Indian country, hundreds Of
miles from the nearest railroad, a comical
scene comes before my vision. My hus-
band, an army officer, took me, bride,
from a comfortable, well appointed Michi-
gan home out to q tumble down, forlorn
little one company post In the wilds OF
New Mexico. Shall ever forget the day
of my arrival, after q long days ride In
rickety old stage through scorching sand
beds and miles Of "buffalo grass and
sagebrush, with dry, hot wind blowing
every step of the way and fairly boiling
the very water in our canteensY
The sun was setting when my husband
exclaimed, "There Is Fort st. Annie! I
saw by the aid OF strong fleldglass tat
tered "Old Glory" which the wind threat
ened to soon sever from its long, slender
pole and under its folds sentry on his
beat. looked and strained my eyes for
the houses, which saw not and said so,
whereupon Captain J. pointed to the right
and said, "Thero Is our house." Ye Mexi-
cansl That upheaval on the side of the
bank from which q rusty, cracked stove
pipe peeped9 That "our houseP"
But was bride thon and many happy
days were spent in the "dugout" house,
and 1 was not at all idle though my house
hold duties were light in that humble
abode, consisting Of one room or an apol-
ogy for two for / partitioned 1t off with
large gray government blanket, behind
which was the bedchamber. cut small
hole unbeknown In the blanket by the
bed, through which often peeped into the
drawing room at the late callers and II on
sufficiently intimate terms carried on con-
versation at my end Of the line, reclining
IN state, glancing from my observatory
now and then to see the effect of my re-
marks upon our callers seated there with
my good captain on the upholstered can
die boxes and the three legged stool-the
stool that 1 found on tho prairie bedded
deep in some sand and sagebrush, relic
of somo camping outfit gone to noI0ne
knows where.
This small post was In the center OF an
Indian reservation, and the post trader
~
their consorts. /, being the only white
woman in that vicinity, was naturally
never falling source of amusement and
keen interest to the squaws of the COM
munity, and my comical recollection, pre-
viously mentioned, is connected with these
wild eyed, wondering women.
In the day Of the crimping pin 1 was
standing before a cracked hand mirror,
Others having been confiscated by the In
dians who were pleased as monkeys over
them, twisting my long brown hair in and
out of the orimping pin. My maid, a
Duxom, dumpy squaw, stood gazing at
me- giving vent to an occasional grunt and
protruding her upper lip. She also hap
pened to see me take down my crimps,
when she fairly shook with delight and
admiration and made excited gesticula-
tions, which amused me greatly, as dis
covered she wanted her hair done In like
manner. To braid q horses name and
have 1t wave nicely Is an act, but nothing
when compared to coaxing crimp into In
dian hair. An hours work saw the task
done, however, and my Indian maid wait
ed In feverish impatience for the morrow's
dawn, before which made her understand
those pins were not to be taken down II
she wished her hair like mine.
The morrow came at snail's pace to her,
and with 1t Singing Bird, smiling and ex-
pectant. The ecstasy Of that poor, simple,
lately captured Indian squaw as one pin
after another was unfastened and the blue
black masses of wavy hair fell over her
head and shoulders was worth an artists
brush. admired and praised her, but not
more than she did herself No court beauty
was ever more bewitched by herself than
she. Crimps or no crimps, the breakfast
had to be prepared, but no other labor
would Singing Bird do that morning, not
until she had gone to the Indian camp
and sutler store and shown herself. What
was the verdict of her lady friendsP They
all, each and every dusky, horsehaired
squaw of each and every tepee on that arid
plain, returned with my vain Bird, asking
that their hair be made cheap good" like
white squaw's and Singing Birds.
had heard of fashions spreading rapid
ly, but never like unto this, and the au-
thor Of 1t too! Horrors, those 80 or more
heads to pull and twist saw no way
out Of the appalling dilemma and calling
the source Of all my trouble sent her to
the post traders with a note begging him
to send mo post haste all the hairpins he
had in stock. The labor was great, and
the heads were many, but Singing Bird
soon acquired the art and was of great as
sistance, as she put up nearly as many
heads as ], and such a lot Of frizzly heads
as there were In that agency the next day
for many days, In fact No matter what
their deprivstions might be, their heads
were wavy. 1t mattered little II the moe
casins Of their lords and masters were
worn out and beads dropping off for want
or diligent wifely attention, that wife's
hair went In pins every night.
shall ever remain as being set apart
the goddess OF crimps In the minds of the
squaws Of that section, but fear me 1 am
remembered as teacher of evil ways by
the heads OF those tepees.-J. Williams in
Detroit Free Press.
Lawson and the Bottle.
Sir Wilfrid Lawson says that he never
received knockdown till, espying Ia
horror WALKING alono with tho old famil lior