The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1898-10-20
POMlUK'S RING.
By Ralph Graham Taber.

owner now; but that makes no diff
ference to Pomiuk; it is the dearest
thing on earth to him.
Some of you who visite worlds
fair at Chicago and straj, into the
Eskimo village, at the northwest cor
ner of Jackson park, my recoilect a
little fellow who always wore a sn'il-
ing face, and W-ose small, turned-up
nose was sometimes in need of a hand
kerchief. You must remember his
c0mical dances, that brought him in
showers of nickels from the specta-
tors; though he did not dance for very
Io2g, for he had fall III the grounds
one day that made of him a cripple
But this was not Pomiuk's only means
of conjuring the small change out of
the visitors pockets. None there could
better crack one of the long whips,
ard with it send small coins spinning
and he was quite as expert at throw
ing a harpoOn; but his greatest source
of income was not through skill or
chance at all. 1t was the irresistible
way he had of winning all hearts about
him. and by this he held the combina-
lions to a good many well-flled purses
Do not, however. let Pomiuli's love
for nickels, dimes and quarters lower
him in your estimation. He knew very
little about their real value: in fact,
he knew very little about that until
long after the worlds fair opened:
but they were bright and pretty
things, and Pomiuk loved to play will
them and to hear their merry Jingle;
for Pomiuk, spite of his gentle ways
and ever smiling countenance, was a
veritable savage, and close study of
him might easily have led one to en-
terrain a lesser regard for the en-
lightenments of civilization.
But | started to tell you about his
ring, and ! must not wander from the
subject.
His first day upon civilized shore
was marked by an event for Pomiuk
that made it ever memorable. 1t was
the 18th day of October, the year be-
fore the big show was held, that
Pomiuk landed at Boston with So
other Eskimos; and it happened that
wharf to see the curious cargo
brought by the schooner Evalina
there was theatrical manager.
Whether it was out of the kindness of
his heart or to advertise his per-
Torrance is not material; but, no mat
ter what his motive, the fact remains
that he gave these simple visitors to
ha
house; and that evening nearly a score
of them, under a proper escort, at
tended in a body and occupied the
boxes.
The play was merely big burlC sque
and they could not understand word
of it. They were dazed by the lights
and the crowded house and the or
chestra and the ballet. The stage,
with its hidden workings, was a
marvel past understanding; but the
songs were pretty, the costumes
bright, and the dancing-ah, the dane
ing!
Pomiuk had thought that he could
dance; but never in all his most fanci-
full dreams had he pictured such won
derful dancing. From the first to the
last his gaze fastened upon the dainty
leader of the ballet. She was d mere
child but, nevertheless, the most skill
full dancer that ever graced an Ameri-
can theater, and all Boston was talk
ing of her and loudly voicing her
praises. When her dancing was ended
and she left the stage, Pomiuk's smile
departed, and he sank back again into
the seat from which her destinations
had drawn him.
The interpreter asked him if he liked
1t, and Pomiuk's little black eyes
lighted up and his little tongue reeled
off long Eskimo words at the rate of
200 minute. The manager was stand
ing by his chair, and he noted the
child's animation.
What does he say?" he asked.
He says" replied the interpreter
"that since he has come aboard the
ship, people have been telling him
about God and Heaven and angels
and that if he were good he would go
there when he died; but he says they
must have made a mistake for be
doesn't believe that he is dead, vet he
certainly is in Heaven"
There are very few angels here, I
fear remarked the manager. sadly.
Not that the manager needed an
'angel,' for he was playing to crowded
houses.
Pomiuk now wanted to know what
che manager had been saying, and when
he learned the managers remark, he
replied. with prompt decision: There
is surel.' one angel-that little one.
Oh, how | would like to speak to her"
No sooner was Pomiuk's wish made
known than the manager called an
usher, and in a very few minutes the lit
tle girl and her mother entered the
box. The little girl had, of course.
changed her attire, and Pomiul hardly
recognized her at first, but when he
did so MS JOY knew 10 bounds. he
promptly thN,w his arms round her
neck, and not only rubbed noses, Es-
kimo fashion, but gave her check a re-
sounding smack, which might have
been heard all over the house had not
tie orchestra been playing.
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