The Oskaloosa herald., 1902-09-11
SEEING THE WORLD.
Spasm Number Two From Our
Innocence Abroad.

I iSIlSl Ut get the pIOpSI hlhu VI O hhO'
in white string tie, just in front
of your epiglattis before going to
church on Sunday morning, with any
promptitude or dispatch.
! If my son, Lane, ever arrives at the
place where he is expected to speak
Mary had Little Lamb" on the last
day Of school and large dry goods
| box with piece of carpet on it, | will
| go down to the barn, climb up in the
| hay NOW and have him practice,
practice, practice, until he can keep
| his thumb out of his mouth long
enough at least, to repeat every other
line correctly. Twelve years ago l
could sit on the head of an ordinary
salt barrel and write 20-page mes
sage while my mother was frying the
bacon or turning the breakfast flap
jacks, but now l find it a task to con.
meet half that number in twice the
time. Then 1 was in practice.
l could spell, incomprehensibility,
with one eye on the book, just as
easily as the Justice of the Peace or
the president of the school board
could speak the Declaration of indie
pendence at a Fourth of July picnic i'll
Eyeland's Grove or the Fair grounds,
and didn't think anything Of it,
either. Now I've got to have an una.
bridged Dictionary, DR.. Jaynes AL
manac, and a Penn College Hand
Book in the house or / can't spell
at all. Then had a sweetheart.
Please don't mention this matter to
my wife. She was the first sweetheart
had ever had She wore a pale blue
dress to church on Sunday morning,
and had few freckles, a large mouth
and some auburn hair which she gen.
orally took to school with her the next
day. l thought of this - of pale
blue Crepe de Chine all day and
dreamed of it all night. | wrote a
letter every morning and got ar
answer in the afternoon and by the
close of the season, | had to take the
Kelley cure to break up the letter
habit. Since that time l have neg
lected my correspondence until now l
can't write about things that never
happened with the mastery hand |
would like to:
However there are a few cold facts
about this land of the Sioux that strike
me as out of the ordinary, and with
your indulgence and few punctuation
marks we will ring up the curtain.
Seven miles out from Watertown,
north by west on a prairie road as
smooth as a trolly rail is the south
line of the Indian Reservation" Il
is an imaginary line and not visible
to the naked eye. The Indians are
also invisible at this season of the
year. ! went up there expecting to
shake hands with some venerable
brave who had worn eagle feathers on
his hat and old settlers scalps on his
belt and war paint on his face, but !
did not was disappointed,
learned that they had long since
moved to the happy hunting ground or
Cheyenne River Agency about $50
milesaway. All that remained of the
tribe in this reservation was the
bleached hip joint of once mighty
warrior, in which a cricket had made
his nest and was singing his joyous
song, and a woman who was three
fourths white so I didn't feel at all
flattered at meeting her. She had high
cheek bones, however, straight black
hair and the Indians eve. She also
had two small children in an old
wagon box in the front yard, and
another ordinary child in large will
low basket in the house.. Her hus-
band was not an Indian, but he seemed
to know enough to oil a Champion
binder or draw a check on the First
National Bank, which had no trouble
in cashing.
There are spots in this reservation
that resemble the Wild and Woody
West that you read about, considerably
On every hand are evidences of the
struggle of the Great Republic when
it first started in business and hadn't
very much of a bank account. Here
and there a whitened bone indicates
the spot where some gallant buffalo
has lain down his life that his country
might live, and here and there a sod
shanty stands as a monument to the
memory of some poor pale face who
was caught in bed and stabbed in the
spinal duplex with butcher knife be-
fore he had time to ring for the police;
and here and there purple flower
waves above the grave of some noble
hero whose shin bones were polished
by the hungry coyote.
Out on these plains the winds low
moan through the prairie grass
sounds like the wall of departed
spirits. They seem to cry to the sleep
ing dead with a mournful, piteous
wall, that makes your hair stand up
as soon as the sun goes down. On
these plains, too, where the red mans
squaw once hoed the corn meal pan
cake, half soled the moccasins, and
made the living for the whole family
the white woman now sits quietly by
and let's her poor devoted husband go
out in the hot sun, and tan his hands
and shock the wheat and blow himself
into coroner's inquest with ]. |.
Case threshing machine. Just what
this country is coming too, l can't
tell. I find great many women not
supporting their husbands according
to contract.
The.e are great many small but
beautiful lakes in this reservation.
Perhaps the most interesting group,
owing to the peculiar mineral compost.
ton of the waters, is known to science
as the Chain Lakes. One of these
prehistoric frog ponds is very appro-
priately named Sinking lake. The
next Immediately west and adjoining
Sinking lake has fresh, sweet water
where the lowing herd can come and
quench its thirst without holding its
nose. 1t is named for its owner
Aliens Lake. Adjoining this to west
ward is Medicine Lake. In the early
spring time, years ago. instead of 60
ing down to the drug store and spend
ing a 5 for Hood,s Sarsanarilla or