668 THE GEORGE CATLIN INDIAN GALLERY. 



aud after readiug several extracts of horrid murders, highway robberies, &c., from 

 the Times, lie came across a little thing that amused them,— the great number and 

 length of the names of the little Prince of Wales, which he read over thus: 



(The author regrets very much that he took no memorandum of this, but refers the 

 reader to the Loudon papers for it.) 



There was a hearty laugh by the whole troop when Daniel got through, but when 

 Mr. Melody repeated the name of a poor fellow who used to dress deer-skins for a living 

 in the vicinity of Saint Louis, they all laughed still more heartily, and CMppelwla set 

 in and laughed aslo. He had forgotten a part of this poor fellow's name, but as far 

 as he recollected of his sign-board it ran thus: 



"■JIaimus-huhhard-luhbard-lamhercl-lunk-vandunlc-Peter-Jacoiua-Lockamore Lavendolph 

 dresses deer-skins of all animals, and in all ways — alum dressed." 



INDIANS DINE AT W. COSTAR'S. 



Such was a part of the gossip of an evening while my days were occupied in pre- 

 paring my rooms for the admission of the public. During this delay one of the gen- 

 tlemen who visited the Indians most frequently, as his native countrymen, was Mr. 

 W. Costar, formerly of New York, but now living in Paris, whose kind lady invited 

 the whole party to dine at her house. 



The Indians had expressed the greatest pleasure at meeting this American gentle- 

 man in Paris, as if they claimed a sort of kindred to him, and met the invitation as 

 one of great kindness and the interview as one in which they were to feel much pleas- 

 ure. They were jiarticularly careful in dressing and preparing for it, and when ready, 

 and the time had arrived, Mr. Melody and I accompauied them to this gentleman's 

 house, where a mbst sumptuous dinner was served, and besides his accomplished lady 

 and lovely daughters, there were several ladies of distinction and of title seated, to 

 complete the honors that were to be paid to the Indians. 



VISIT THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. 



M. Vattemare, in his kind endeavors to promote the interest of the Indians and 

 that of myself, had obtained an invitation from the members of the Royal Academy 

 of Sciences for the Indians to visit them at one of their sittings, which was a great 

 honor; but the poor Indians left Paris without over having been able to learn 

 how or in what way that honor arrived. Messrs. Melody and Vattemare and myself 

 accompanied the whole party to their rooms, and, being ushered and squeezed and 

 pushed into a dense crowd of gentlemen, all standing, and where the Indians were 

 no i even oflered a seat, they were gazed and scowled at, their heads and arms felt, 

 thfcir looks and capacities criticised like those of wild beasts, without being asked a 

 question, or thanked for the kindness of coming, and where they were offered not even 

 a glass of cold water. The Indians and ourselves were thus eyed and elbowed about 

 in this crowd for half an hour, from which we were all glad to escape, deciding that 

 it was entirely too scientific for us, and a style of politeness that we were not perhaps 

 sufficiently acquainted with duly to appriciate. 



The various conjectures about the objects of this visit were raised after we got 

 home, and they were as curious as they were numerous. The Indians had reflected 

 upon it with evident surprise, and repeatedly inquired of M. Vattemare and myself 

 for what purpose we had taken them there. M. Vattemare told them that these were 

 the greatest scientific men of the kingdom. This they did not understand, and he 

 then, to explain, said they were the great medicine men, the learned doctors. Sec. They 

 then took the hint a little better, and decided alarm with it, for they said they rec- 

 ollected to have seen in some of their faces, -while examining their heads and arms, 

 decided expressions of anxiety to dissect their limbs and bones, which they now felt 

 quite sure would be the case if any of them should die in Paris. The war-chief, who 

 seldom had much to say, while speaking of the events of the day, very gravely ob- 

 eerved on this occasion, that "he had been decidedly displeased, and the diief also, 



