" - " " " " * Conservative. TIIU I ICTUUES < > IK OMTIMK INDIAN. Perhaps tlio first thing that impressed the visitor to the old-time Indian camp was its picturesqueness , says George Bird Grinnell in the January Atlantic ; for whether you viewed him with eyes friendly or hostile the wild Indian was always picturesque. It was a fine sight to watch him charging down upon you on his fleet pony , his long hair , feather- decked , streaming in the wind , his weapon ready for instant use. Ho swept toward you a perfect master of his horse and his seat. And it was not less fine to ride in the midst of five hundred such men your friends in the hurly-burly of the charge on the buffalo herd , when you felt yourself part of a con fused blur of dust , flying pebbles , great brown beasts , naked men and straining horses. As striking , though in a dif ferent way , was the long line of the marching camp , as in slow procession , stretched out over a mile or two of prairie , it wound its course among the hills. Viewed from a distance , it looked like a long ribbon , spotted hero and there with bright bits of color ; but if you were a part of it , as it advanced , you saw that it was made up of groups of silent men with bows and quivers at their backs , of women riding or leading patient pack ponies that dragged their travois , of racing boys , of loose horses , and of vagrant dogs. The barking , the neighing , the shouting , the scolding , that fell on your ear , told something of the vitality that animated the compon ent parts of the procession. Hardly less picturesque were the quiet scenes of the Indian's home life , when you lived with him in his village of conical skin tents. Sitting in the shade of the lodges when the sun was hot , yon smoked the long-stemmed pipe , and talked with your friends , while all about you the people came and went. Men returned from the hunt , riding horses heavily laden with fresh meat and hides ; women were at work pegging out the skins or dressing them ; from neighboring lodges men were shouting invitations to the feast ; all about there were little groups like your own , smok ing , chatting , and laughing. Indians are not ashamed to show their affection to one another. Chums who have been separated for any length of time are likely , when they meet , to put their arms around and hug and kiss one another. Often two young men will be seen standing or sitting close to gether and holding hands , or with the arm of one about the neck of the other. My old father among the Blackfeet always puts his arms around mo and hugs me when wo meet after an absence The purely social side of life in an In dian camp could not fail to interest any one who might be introduced to it. In the family relation the India , shows a side which is attractive. He loves his wife and family as we love oiu-s , and he thinks of them before blinking of himself. But besides the mtural affection that any animal has 'or its young the Indian cares for his children for another reason. Ho is in- ensely patriotic. His pride in his tribe and its achievements is very strong. IG glories in the prowess of its braves and the wisdom of its chiefs ; his soul ihrills as he hears told over and over again the stories of the victories which n's people have won over their enemies ; 10 rejoices at the return of a successful var party. In the children growing up n the camp , in the boys shooting their .hint-headed arrows at the blackbirds and ground squirrels , or yelling and shouting with excitement in the mimic varfares which constitute a part of their sport ; in the girls whom he sees nursing iheir puppies or helping their mothers at their work , he recognizes those who a few years hence must bear the respon sibilities of the tribe , uphold its past glories or protect it from danger , as he and his ancestors have done. No won- ler he loves them. Indians seldom pun- sh their children , yet usually these are well trained , though chiefly by advice and counsel. When a tiny little boy , who has just received his first bow and arrows , starts out of the lodge to play with his fellows , his mother is likely to say to him : "Be careful now ; do not do anything bad , do not hit any one , do not shoot any one with your arrows. You may hurt people with these things , if 3rou are not careful. Pay attention to what I sa3T. " To be discontented when doing noth ing and to be fully contented when working very hard is the way to acquire wealth , prominence and a comfortable and reputable old age. THE CONSERVA TIVE can prove this proposition by more than one hundred farmers in Otoe county who have been , under its obser vation , demonstrating its truth for forty years. A FUNKKAI , SKI-ITCH. On Saturday , December 19,1898,1 left Chicago at 3 :00 : o'clock in the afternoon , arriving at Lima , Ohio , at 9:00 : in the evening with Mr. Bradbury , who has been for many years manager of the Lake Erie & "Western road. On Sunday morning after breakfast we drove out to meet the incoming train with the Brice family. As I drove through the little city from almost every home I discerned the emblems of mourning ; from almost every store fluttered the black crejte , telling the world how they sorrowed for the man whom they loved. As we drove along the streets wo me ! a procession marching old veterans whoso hair had been whitened by the snows of many winters some of them lame , some with crutches and others with canes , all keeping stop to the sol emu funeral march as they formed around the railroad station where the cumins of the late Senator Brice were aken from the train and carried into lis residence. That evening as I strolled about the own meeting different persons , some in the humble walks of life , they all said , 'Our Cal , our Cal is gone , " and the tears dropped from the nigged cheeks of nany a poor man who said , "When I was in trouble , he helped me. " Another , "When I was sick , ho thought of me ; " mother , "If it had not been for our Cal , ' . would have lost my little house. " 'Our Cal , our Cal , " was the cry and the ameutation which went up through the streets of the town. They felt their best friend had gone , the man they ad- nired and loved. On Monday at 2 :00 : o'clock the com munity crowded into ths pretty church. Seventeen hundred workingmen came 'rom Indianapolis. The shops were shut down all along the line of the Lake Erie & "Western. Three thousand employees of the railroad formed in line , standing there with uncovered heads , the rain pouring down as the funeral procession passed by. At the church there was one jowcr of flowers wreaths , broken col umns , hearts one hundred and fifty pieces grouped around the altar. More .ban two thousand people were com pelled to stand outside the church. The services were simple , but beauti ful ; among them was the singing of those old hymns that were familiar and dear to our departed friend. The min ister was not fulsome in his praise. Ho told the story of Mr. Brico's beautiful life ; how he had not wrapped up his talents in a napkin , but had done the best ho could , going through life helping the poor and the down-trodden , holding out his hand to those who were weak ; a man who had such a large heart no enemies every one , from the highest to the low est , loved and revered him. As we drove out to the cemetery , a distance of about three miles , to pay our last tribute to this great and good man wo gathered around with uncovered heads , and old men wept and young men whom ho had befriended , and by and by behind me I heard someone sobbing , and upon turning saw it was a poor , aged woman. I looked up from the beautiful valley to a distant hill , covered with a mantle of snow ; and there solitary and alone on the very summit stood a form ; erect , tall , the figure of a soldier in the uniform of a cavalryman. No one near him , there ho stood as on guard. Finally as they lowered the dear and honored dust into the tomb , the sentinel blow a bugle blast which echoed along every neighboring rock and rill and its reverberations came answering back again in subdued and sweetest tones. It was the last moan , the expiring melody for soldier , citizen , statesman and pat riot. EitSKiNi : M. PHELPS. ; *