Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1898-03-06

"They are hard to get" said. sug
gestively Why Is itY'
Because she said with a resignation
tinged with bitterness, 1.-THE Indian agen
refuses to allow beads to be sold on tn
reservation. Bead-work IL the only In
dustry the women Of my people know
but the agent says he can never civiliz
them while they make this savage bead
work, so now they sit in idleness. wor,
these things" she continued. caressni
the bead-embroidered garments, when
was a little girl. and went South Will
my tribe on the annual hunts. But thai
was before the country was apportioned
in severalty, and before the wire fences
blocked the way"
The next day we took n drive abroad
in Mrs. Lincoln's family carriage. driven
| by young American cowboy, now her
farm overseer. but who in years gone by
managed her large cattle interests. The
settlement called the Agency consisted
OF dozen small houses, two stores, the
Eagle Hotel, and the Indian school,
| which stood afar on the hill Sprlnked
all about were tepees, from which curls
| Of smoke rose sullenly We stopped I'm
! front Of one OF these, and Mrs. Lincoln
| held a conversation with q slouching
Indian and his wife, who peeped from
the tent flap. Not n word of English
was spoken nor a smile exchanged. All
the European grace of manner with
which my hostess addressed me was a
thing assumed with the English language
and laid aside when she communicated
with her tribe
Those are my cousins" she remarked
TO me when we drove away. as though
unconscious Of the contrast between their
savage state and her own extraordinary
advancement
Whose is that fine house?" I asked.
pointing to a commodious residence of
brick
That Is the Indian agents" she re-
piled, and l saw by the gathering dark
ness of her face that 1 was treading on
dangerous ground. That the agent is
hated by the lazy, stubborn Indians, who
resent Improvement, counts for nothing,
put 1t is significant that his ways are
condemned with equal bitterness by peo-
pie Of the tribe who have reached Mrs.
Lincoln's degree Of refinement.
That is my foster-fathers house" said
our hostess, as the driver stopped the
team before a comfortable cottage in this
settlement, where white men and Indians
live as citizens. We entered the sitting
room, which was for the moment empty.
II was not as luxurious as Mrs. Lincolns
own, but showed only the simple furnish
ings and scant decoration characteristic
OK the homes Of old people Presently the
old chief entered. He was tall, Of unmis-
taxable Indian build, square shoulders,
snort neck, and fine head Mrs. Lincoln
took him affectionately by the hand and
IN her own language gently explained TO
him our presence. He smiled on us benig-
nantly, extending hand to each in turn.
and saying How do?" but this was all
the English he knew, and the conversation
was carried on entirely through the inter-
probation Of his foster-daughter.
He mad been several times to Washing
ton to represent his tribe before the
Great Father" and there had become
converted TO the inartistic garments
known as civilian dress, which however,
suited him, for he wore his frock coat
with elegance and dignity. He was alto
gether of heroic type. His leonine head
was never meant to bow, nor his fearless
eyes to quail. When civilization came upon
him. he met II as a conqueror instead OF
fleeing before it as lesser men Of his tribe
had done. During his life, a span of three
score years and ten, he had seen changes
In his tribe which the nations Of Europe
have only accomplished in hundreds of
centuries. Having begun childhood as the
widest savage. he was finishing life a
cultivated gentleman of progressive
tnOuSnt ana altrulStic desires.
When we were driven TO the Indian
school, I begged to be left alone with a
troop Of youngsters who were romping
outside, instead Of going in with the
others to see the weary children and
wearier teachers struggling with the
English language and elementary studies
The children in the school-rooms We're
all heavy and Indifferent, but out of
doors they were playful and joyous. L
sat down on the steps and ten little In
dian boys approached me curiously and
suspiciously, like the squirrels in a park.
Some scarlet carnations on my dress |
were the winning card, and l held them |
out SUCCESSFULLY. In a moment / was |
covered with an avalanche of laughing, !
struggling children, whose cold, dirty /
hands at once ruthlessly touched my coat, |
neck, and face. / turned them off, but |
those who had not succeeded in gaining |
a flower came back with extended palms, |
crying, "Give, give" They picked at my |
back-headed pins and asked for those, !
then, with unblushing assurance. begged |
with clamorous voices and brown hands |
my watch and every bit of jewelry in
sight. They apparently spoke no English |
but the word give; however, / asked
them their names as the ten little boys
stood before me in a wriggling row.
Joshua" said the first; Joseph" said
the second, and Daniel" the third.
mo, no, nor 1 exclaimed in impa-
tience, Indian name" The little fellows
were giving me the unattractiye substi-
tutes which were taken from the Bible
by the school-teachers, probably as the
first step in religious reformation.
Indian name" L repeated. pointing to
the merry little gnome called Joshua. He
and all the others looked puzzled and
solemn for a moment, grunted an inartic-
ulate syllable or two, then, with a happy
smile of Illumination, he and all the row
filed my ears with the musical sound Of
the names their mothers called them on
the plain and in the tepee, when beaded
1uckskins clothed their straight limbs
and moccasins made their steps soft and
light as a coyotes.
After the joy of telling their true names
md teaching them to my stumbling
tongue, they fell upon me again with a
sudden rush. "Namel name" they cried
n emulation OF my first request. Helen"
gravely responded, and each conned tho
essen over in gentle murmuring. 1t was
low time TO go. The others Of my
)arty were approaching. I turned to say
yood-by TO my little troop Of entertain
rs, but they were disappearing at the
light of more strangers. "Good-by," /
allied. From behind a corner of the
uilding six tousled black heads were
)eeping. "Good-by, Elem" they re-
lied, and scampered away like prairie
logs.
To n Bicycle.
With Apologies TO Students of Shelley) |
Hon. NJ COrdelia Leigh. in the March |