| Summary: | Newsletter of the North Dakota School for the Deaf. THE NORTH DAKOTA BANNER 3 IiEAUTY. Canst thou see no beauty night? Cure thy dull, distempered eye. Canst thou no sweet music hear? Tune thy sad, discordant ear. Earth has beauty everywhere If the eye that sees is fair, Earth has music to delight If the ear is tuned aright. —Nixon Waterman. Eskimos Who Make Good. In Alaska each schoolhousc is a social center. Many of them contain kitchens, rooms for the teachers, and a laundry and baths for the natives. This work is carried on under the Bureau of Education, and the details of current operation are reported upon by William Hamilton, who says that there are in Alaska approximately 25,000 natives in villages of 30 or 40, up to 300 or 400 persons. Some of the remoter villages are only visited by a United States Coast Guard steamer on its annual cruise, or by the supply vessel sent by the Bureau of Education. During eight months of the year all the villages, except those on the south coast, are reached only by trails over the snow-covered land or frozen rivers. In spite of the difficulties, a public school has been established in each of seventy villages. In many instances the school is the only elevating power in the community. In its endeavor to safeguard the health of the natives the Bureau of Education maintains hospitals in five centers, physicians and nurses devote themselves to medical and sanitary work, and provide medical supplies and text-books to the teachers. It often becomes the duty of a teacher to render first aid to the injured or to care for a patient through a serious illness. Another duty of the teacher is to supervise stores. The government of the white man has to protect the native from the unscrupulous trader. The Bureau of Education has established reservations where the natives can obtain fish and game and trade. The settlement at Noorvik, on the Kobuk River, in arctic Alaska, is one of the most striking examples of this policy. With advancement in civilization the Eskimos at Deering, on the coast, crave a new home. A tract on the bank of the Kobuk River, abounding in game and timber, was reserved for these Eskimos, and thither they migrated in 1915. On the tract the. colonists within two yeais have built a village with well-laid-out streets, neat houses, gardens, a store, a sawmill, electric light and a wireless station which keeps them in touch with the world. —Christain Herald. The Indian’s Head on Our Penny. In 1835 the government of the United States made an offer of $1000 for the most acceptable design to be placed upon the new coin soon to be issued. Some Indian chiefs traveled from the northwest to Washington to visit the great father. Andrew Jackson occupied the executive chair anc Martin Van Buren was vice-president. These Indians journeyed to Philadelphia to inspect the mint, whose chief engraver was James Barton Longacre, who invited them to his house, where, to celebrate the event, a distinguished company had assembled to welcome them. The engraver’s daughter, Sarah, aged 10, greatly enjoyed the visit of her father’s guests, and during the evening to please her one of the chiefs took his feathered helmet and war bonnet and placed it on her head. In, the company was an artist who immediately sketched her and handed tl c "icture to her father. Mr. Longacre, knowing of the competition for a likeness to go upon the cent projected, under the inspiration of the hour, resolved to'contend for the prize offered by the government. To his delight the officials accepted it, and the face of his daughter appeared upon this coin, which has circulated about the nation for nearly a century. It is said that there were more than 10 competitors for the prize. Savage and civilized life was thus intermingled in the American face and the Indian headgear, remarks the Pittsburg Leader. The face of Sarah Longacre has gone into more hands, more pockets, more homes, more stores, more banks, more schools, more churches than any other coin in the United States, if not in the world. It is said that the dollar once boasted of its superior value to the cent, declaring the latter unworthy to be in its company. “Ah,” replied the cent, “you may be more valuable, but I am more pious, for I attend church every Sunday, but you are seldom seen there.” The Indian Chief considered it an honor to put his bonnet on the head of the engraver’s daughter, for the headgear was an heirloom.—Selected. Uncle Hiram Was Right There. Aunt Tabitha and Uncle Hiram started for a Christmas visit to New York, and at Philadelphia Uncle Hiram got out to buy a newspaper and the train went off without him. But the railroad people were more than kind to Uncle Hiram in his predicament. They put him on an extra rapid express, and he actually arrived in New York 20 minutes ahead of Aunt Tabitha. He stood at the exit in his black Sunday suit, carpet bag in hand when she went forth. “Here we are again, heim?” he said c’asping her waist jocosely. “I tell ye, Tabitha, gal, I thought I’d lost ye for good.” But Aunt Tabitha had drawn herself up straight and stiff. She was frowning as black as a thundercloud. “You clear out, mister!” she hissed. “None o’ yer New York confidence tricks on me. I left my Hiram in Philadelphia.”—Argonaut. The Useful Oil Can. The Filipinos have found in the five-gallon can of an American oil company a usefulness that quite transcents its capacity as a container of petroleum. In the World’s Outlook a writer says that some of the“handy” natives make of the versatile oil cans very good week-end traveling boxes. Others flatten and shape them into hats and umbrellas. Saunter through a village and you will see dwellings- the weather side of which is clapboarded with flattened-out oil cans. The same material neatly covers the comb of the thatched roof; and sometimes roofs instead of being thatched are wholly made of oil-can tiles, and the cooking shelter, or kitchen, is sided up with oil-can boards. As you stroll along the street, a baby may deign to glance at you with his curiously appraising expression from his carriage made from an oil can, and pushed with conscious pride by nurse or sister. But it was the water carrier that the oilcan transcends all other uses. A stout stick fastened inside the can makes of it a five-gallon water pail. Take a pole of bamboo, swing an oil can on either end, balance the stick on the shoulders of a boy or a man, and you have manufactured a durable water wagon with a capacity of ten gallons.—The Youth’s Companion. The Japanese dentist is peculiar. He refuses to use anything except his fingers in pulling teeth. He first acquires strength by pulling out, with finger and thumb of his right hand, a number of wooden pegs which have been inserted into holes in a plank. Then a tougher log with tougher pegs is tried, and he is kept at this for a year. After that he operates on a slab of marble which contains pegs of the hardest wood deeply driven in. Then he is qualified to go into business. A good workman will seize a patient with his left hand, and draw out five or six teeth with his right without stopping to rest.—Selected. Pat and Mike were watching some bricklayers at work one day, and Pat asked: “Say, Mike, what is it that holds the bricks together?” “Sure,” said Mike, “that’s aisy. It’s the mortar. “Never a bit of it,” said Pat. “That kapes them apart.”—Young People’s Paper. Convenient.—A farmer had come up to town for a few days. Before he started he had promised to bring his daughter a present, so he went into a jeweler’s shop and said to the assistant: “I want a pair of earrings, cheap but pretty.” “Yes, sir,” said the jeweler; “you want something loud, I suppose?” “Well, I don’t mind if one of them is a little loud,” replied the farmer. “My girl is slightly deaf in one ear.”—Tit-Bits. What She Was. She came up to the bank cashier’s desk and tendered a check for $100. “What denomination, please?” asked the clerk. “Methodist,” she replied. “What are you?”—The Ladies’ Home Journal •Mute Talks Freely When Denied Food. The Denver Post: After having successfully worked his graft in Denver, Cheyenne and other cities without detection, James Young, claiming to be deaf and dumb, who has been begging on the trains and in the towns, was forced to talk by Jailer Edward Grimm of the Meld county jail today when the jailer refused him anything to eat, after being convinced that he was a fraud. For sixty hours the fellow held out without speaking, but hunger finally overcame his determination and he cried for food, which was furnished him. After that he talked freely and told that he had been working the graft for three years.
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