Evening journal., 1907-02-21

In peace and comfort lived those
heather,
IT'S true. untutored was their mind
But still they knew the mighty spirit"
They heard His voice in tempest's
wind,
They knew naught OF "fire-water"
The madness cup" they did not give,
And neither brave, nor chieftain's
daughter
Sold her soul that she might live
None! Not cen the mighty chieftains
Dared to stay a willing hand;
All we're free-in wood or river
For "the great spirit owned the land"
II one should speak OF selling nature.
Chieftains, braves and squaws were
sad.
The prophet in low tones would MUIR
mur:
Pity him. for he is mad.
Thus the heathen lived in plenty
Though dark the days, or bright the
skies,
Came at last. the white mans shadow.
He came. OF course TO civilizei
Yes. they civilized co the Indian.
They drove him from his native sod.
Their awful crimes against the savage
Cry out to nature and to God.
Gone the Indians from these rivers,
Gone the forests from these hills.
Stands here now a mighty city,
Bright its pleasures and its Ills
We are enjoying civilization (?).
"All are edual-all are free"
II tbs true cannot see It;
It never has been clear TO me.
For our chieftains have been wiser,
Sharper than the heather men;
Our big chieftains. they own the rivers,
The rolling hills, the mountain glen;
And the dolts. the common people,
Acauiesce in all they say.
And think the chiefs do them a favor
To let them dig or NOW their hay.
In disgust leave my chamber
The shades OF night have fallen
down.
Come. let us study civilization. 90
Let us wander through the town.
Between the rivers now we're stro ling,
Here stood the wigwams long ago;
Here live now the working people,
In alleys vile, in houses low.
See yon bright and stately palace.
That's the place where madness
grows:
That's where poor and wretched white
men
Seek to drown their cares and woes.
On this very spot stood wigwams,
Here roamed the heather in his day.
He knew naught Of firewater.
But he was heather In his way.
See yon brilliant. gorgeous mansion,
Enter in--there's naught that's rude.
Yet you see Caucasian women
Who sell their souls 20 earn their
food.
on this spot. between the rivers,
Stroued Indian women In their day,
They knew naught Of such hell
house.
But they were heathens in their way.
Yonder stands a great slkyacraper
/ In the vaults are treasures piled,
lAt the door men beg for labor
with pangs OF hunger they are wild.
On this very spot the Indians
Had their field OF sport and play,
Unknown to them 20 beg for labor,
But they we're heathens in their way
And yonder stands a frowning fac
tory.
/ OF children's murder II could tell
In his oficc sits the masterl
/ In future life he'll sit in hell.
on this very sloping hillside,
Indian children romped In play
But the wise men in their nation.
or course were heathens in their way
Yonder stands a lofty building,
Horrorsl Hear that fearful wall;
And listen to those awful curses.
That's our handsome city Jail.
on this very spot the heather
Gathered sowers-bright in May.
They knew naught of gloomy dungeons
They were heathens in their way
Now then. let us cross the river
whats that building long and
high7"
That's the home Of homeless people;
That's the poorsnuse where they die
On that very spot the Indians
/ often IN the sunlight lay.
Unknown TO them the pauper's death
bed.
But. they were heathens IN their
way.
Yes. we civilized 90 the Indians
We hear their race In sorrow groan
But more degraded. hopeless heathens
we find around us among our own
The cry OF. sorrow from the heathens--
The horrors that around US lay.