The Normal Record. February 1899

              THE NORMAL RECORD.
in Coal." His plea was, "I Love You Best,"
but she only answered, " Oh. I Don't Know ;
I Just Got a Msssaga from Mars," and with
that sli3 turned away, and I heard him
exclaim in tones of anguish, " Come Back, O
Com3 Back", but as she tripped away she
answered, "Mr. Johnson, Don't Get Gay."
Just then I heard some one crying, and
turned around in time to see " Sweet Little
Tootsey Wootsey," " Papa's Baby Boy" and
"Mammy's Pumpkin-Colored Coons" being
carried off to bed by " Melindy " because they
were "A Little Too Young to Know."
A cake-walk was proposed for the evening's
entertainment, and those who were to participate now assembled in the middle of the
room, led by "My Honolulu Lady," who was
very anxious to give us the "Hawaiian Pas
Ma La."    Mr. Johnsing immediately walked
up to her, and presenting her with a " Sweet
Bunch of Daisies," said, "Honey; You've
Made a Hit Wid Me; Honey, You's the
Warmest Girl in Town." Strains of " A
Georgia Campmeeting" came floating
through the room, the cake-walk began; and
as I looked at them I could not help remarking, " All Coons Look Alike  to Me."
Just then a soldier boy appeared in the
doorway, exclaiming, " Every Niggar Had a
Lady but Me," and then he walked up to me
and asked me to join-him in the cake-walk. I
asked him who he was, and he said, "I'm
Rastus On Parade ; I'm de Warmest Member
in de Lan', An' it Ain't No Lie." I was just
trying to find some excuse for not joining him,
when some one exclaimed—" Miss Blanche,
dinner is ready," and the little people I love
so well vanished out of sight.
One of the   Lowly.
A   SKETCH.
WE was the youngest of four. There were
two straight-haired, dark-eyed, flat-
nosed little sisters, and a stupid, overgrown
brother who already was utterly good-for-
nothing, and plainly showed the germs of the
gambling and chicken-stealing tendencies
which developed later.
You probably would not call the place
where he lived a home, but by his own people
it was thought to be more than good, for did
it not contain one window, and was the door
not high enough for the children to walkthrough without having to bend their heads ?
Even the shortest of the grown people did
not have to stoop very low.
In the summer he lived in a " campoody "
made of fir branches, cedar bark, and skins,
and builded under a pine tree ne*ar his winter
home.
His people could not entirely forget their
early environments, but they were civilized
enough to wish to give this little moon-faced,
sad-eyed younger son something of an education ; particularly, as at about this time the
teacher became interested in him. But first
he must have an English'; name.~ An enthusiastic patriot supplied tthe name—Commodore Oliver Perry—and his father's name
being Rob Roy, he became Commodore Oliver
Perry Roy, which his schoolmates soon
shortened to Dick. He promptly added this
name to the others.
Commodore Oliver Perry Dick Roy had
artistic tendencies and drew most wonderful
creatures, his drawing partaking somewhat
of the nature of the early Egyptian art.
The distinctive feature of his men was their
bows and arrows; and his " devils ", as he
called them, were all eyes and ears, which
idea miobt have been worthy a wiser head.
Most wonderful stories he told of these drawings.
The Commodore was popular with the boys
— to such an degree that they always divided
their lunch with him, but persistently refused
a share of his, which was carried in a shining
tin pail, the outward glory if which belied
its contents. And well deserved was his
popularity, for he was a brave, sturdy, honest
fellow. He lacked ambition, however, and
his school work was discontinued almost as
soon as he learned to spell and write his name,
which in itself was somewhat of a feat. He
early developed musical ability, and was so
apt at carving that he made a violin for himself, taking as a model .the violin of a school
friend. The love his people bore for hunting
and fishing was inherited by him, but not so
their tendency toward " no-accountedness ",
and he soon gained the reputation of being
a steady worker and never " out of a job ".
In spite of hereditary tendencies, home-
training and environment, this child of the
pines has never forfeited his right to be
called a " good Injun ".