Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1897-10-24
THE big INJUN. y
THE IDLER MUSES. ON THE SUB
yECr OF OUR ABoRIGINEs.
BABYS FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE
The Comments on His General
Make-Up-The Musical Girl I'm
society-How Robert Epps Missed
Becomine n Great Man.

.The shadows Of twilight were creeping
over the hills, and naught save the
plaintive voice of the screech-owl broke
the stiffness of the evening air. The
dark green Of the fir-trees had deepened
into black. and earth met Heaven In the
dim horizon as darkness threw Its man
tie on the world. In secluded spot
beneath giant oaks, Coonskin Jack. the
trapper, and Man-with-a-Frog-in -His-
Throat. the faithful Indian guide. tether-
ed their sturdy horses and prepared to
sleep within the embrace of that AWFUL
wilderness. But bark! what is that which
stirs the rustling leaflets? Is 1t some
lone catamount that seeks its prey. or
the timid squirrel scampering to its noe
turnal abode? Coonskin Jack grasps his
trusty rifle, and n-with-a-Frog-in-His
Throat stoically and indifferently bites
Decent piece to ascertain its genuine
ness. A shot rings out on the Silly
ether. A dark. 1.-THE form leaps through
the air, and with piercing shrek, falls
headlong to the yawning precipice below.
Coonskin Jack then calmly takes his self
repeating typewriter from his valise, and
making memo. Of the proceedings,
says: ''More data for the newspaper
boys in Frisco" Never touched him."
laconically replies Man-with -a-F'rog-in-
His-Throat, as he looks into his pocket
dictionary to find the distinction between
the verbs ''sit' and "set.''
That Is the way / used to picture the
sturdy westerner. and the swarthy abo-
rhymes in the days when j. Fenimore
Cooper was my grafdest author. but
every day / am disillusoned. IT'S SAD
thing to put away childish thoughts and
to realize now, as we all must do, that
the North American Indian no longer
manicures his nails or laves his head in
bay-rum, and that to him II is a matter
of indifference whether patent-leather or
tan shoes are worn at evening receptions.
.
Last week Buffalo Bilps Wild Western
Show" with It's dust and dirt, and glass
balls, and bucking ponies, made me feel
the weight OF centuries and snapped the
last lingering thread that bound me to my
childhood. It may have been the unsym-
pathetic seats on which sat, or perhaps
it was the dirt swallowed. but be that
when the bowling Comanches appeared
and filled the air with the thuDders of
blank cartridges. That morning / had
seen them in the parade as they rode
abreast OF street-cars and pulled cigar
cites into the uplifted faces of the open
mouthed populace. True, they were
painted and bedaubed like female leaders
OF fashion, but it was the harmless gaudi-
ness Of the Easter egg, and no fear was
within my soul. When the man at the
show announced that the next feature
OF the programme would be a buffalo
hunt by the aborigines, 1 experienced
one last expiring thrill OF excitement,
which was soon destined TO flicker out
like a snuffed candle. Enter the buff
faloes amid flourish of trumpets and
musk by de band" Also enter the
aborlgines, riding with that mad en-
thusiasm which characterizes the coun-
tryman when he mounts the wooden
steeds Of the merry-go-'round. And do
those hairy, whiskered, and unshorn
bisons, shifting danger from afar. dash
madly DER the wide expanse Of prairie
No, the hairy, whiskered bison do not dash
madly DER the wide expanse Of prairie
They don't give a continental about the
Indians, but assiduously seek to find
four-leafed clover in the arena On, on,
on come the flying horsemen, and still
the buffaloes don't give continental
But by and by. when the foe are upon
them, and the air resounds with blank
cartridges, the big beasts trot off, re-
luctantly and leisurely. as II the whole
thing were a beastly bore to them. A
gallon of raw whiskey could not excite
you when you look on this spectacle, and
you are sorry you came. But are you
liz &c
that you are no longer young? We may
grow old gracefully, but try as we may,
we cannot do so cheerfully. No more
'Injuns" for me, except those stolid
chaps in front of the cigar stores.
There is great excitement IN your
household Your wife is upstairs and
down stairs. The neighbors are peep
ing out of the windows, and the cook,
with a smell of cabbage and grease upon
her person, is hanging around the front
door. Proudly the blue gauze veil nut
tiers to the mellow breezes. The new
baby is about to make his. her. or Its
first appearance in public. Snatched In the
muscular arms OF his, her, or its nurse. he
she, or IL is borne away from the mar
row apartments in which he, she, or 1t
has blinked and ogled for full thirty
world beyond. Maybe he. she, or 1t
wants to see this great world, and
maybe he, she, or 1t doesn't. There's no
telling. Hitherto, the gelatinous, squshy
mass OF crimson stupidity has lain
drowsily on many pillows and heard
thousands OF people ask: rs it a boy?"
or, what a pity It's a glrl?' or words
to that effect. But to-day changes 1t
all The great world is before the
hitherto latent fend. and from now,
forth, and evermore. his. her. or its i'm
portance is multiplied a hundredfold.
Nurse Is full OF self-consclousness, and
carefully examines the bald-headed. pud-
ding-faced, shapeless brat and his, her,
or IT'S Announcements. The long dress
forty times too long-is arranged; the
lace trimmed slzull-cap is adjusted. even
as paper is adjusted on the wall; the
crotcheted socks are placed on dimpiy
feet, and the tiny. treacherous. idiotc
citizen is harpooned on all sides with
safety-pins. and then enshrouded In the |
veil. Through 1t all the much-adored |
sleeps; yea, slumbers with deep and |
restful slumber that soon will be super
seeded by a nocturnal wakefulness which |
even the brayest dread. The shifting, |
the shutting the chattering, and the |
excitement cut no figure with that silent, |