1092 
7ht RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
August 16, 1924 
Hope Farm Notes 
WIIAT IS “AN AMERICAN?” 
Part I 
“You won’t never know nothin’ if you 
don’t ask no questions!” 
Let us say, for the sake of argument, 
that Ralph Waldo Emerson was the 
wisest American of recent times. Did he 
ever say anything with more evident 
truth than the above? If so, it is not 
recorded in the six thick volumes of his 
works which are right at my hand. Who 
then is this American philosopher who 
rivals the great Emerson? An Indian 
woman on the Pequot reservation near 
Old Mystic, Conn. 
We came up into this lonely place 
for our annual outing. This is the third 
Summer we have camped on the edge of 
Long Pond under the shadow of Lantern 
Hill.- It is a lonely, and, to me, a mel¬ 
ancholy place. Big stone walls run 
through the thick woods—with here and 
there little clearings where the Indians 
have their homes. Outside of the reserva¬ 
tion are good farms where grass and 
corn, potatoes and gardens, make good 
growth. Evidently this little reserva¬ 
tion was once under cultivation or in 
pasture, but now the thick woods have 
come back, covering the hills with shad¬ 
ows wherein lurk mysteries which only 
the Indians seem to understand. Now and 
then I go out long after dark and follow 
some of these lonely roads into the deep 
woods, and a strange feeling comes over 
one at the thought of the ghosts of an 
old farm civilization which these hills 
conceal. In “Senescence,” Hall tells of 
a midnight visit to a country church¬ 
yard. As a 'boy he was afraid to go by 
it at night. He always shut his eyes 
and ran along the road at full speed. 
Quite late in life, after he had made 
himself believe there can be no such 
thing as a ghost, or even any life after 
death, he went to this same church-yard 
alone at midnight. While in this deso¬ 
late place a cloud passed over the moon 
and in the changing light and moving 
shadows it seemed to him that some of the 
gravestones actually moved toward him. 
He says that in spite of his reputation 
as a “psychologist” and his utter dis¬ 
belief in "spirits or ghosts his boyhood 
fear swelled up in mind and he was 
tempted to run! I think that usually 
the sounds of the night are what cause 
fear. If we do not hear these sounds 
I see no reason why darkness should be 
more fearful than daylight, but as I 
walked along these silent and darkened 
roads it came to me that these woods 
contained something beside the ruins of 
a material civilization. For here too are 
buried what we may call citizenship or 
real Americanism. These Indians are 
not real Americans like the rest of us. 
They are not voters, to share the respon¬ 
sibility of government, or taxpayers to 
share its burden. What can be the point 
of view of men and women who living in 
America and going back in heritage cen¬ 
turies beyond their white neighbors, and 
who, enjoying the protection of a govern¬ 
ment take no share in supporting it? In 
these days when men and women are ques¬ 
tioning the stability of our American 
form of democracy, it interests me to hunt 
up a few of the ghosts of the old Pequod 
or Mohegan form of independent govern¬ 
ment and see what they think of modern 
conditions. 
* * * * 
And so with my children to act as in¬ 
terpreters I visited one of the most in¬ 
telligent of these Indian families and 
asked if I might question them. You 
have the practical and convincing answer 
at the head of this letter. This family 
lives in a clearing of perhaps 20 acres. 
There is a small house with the chimney 
built on the outside. The inside of the 
house was neat and clean as wax. There 
were pictures on the walls—mostly photo¬ 
graphs or drawings of relatives or friends 
—an icebox in the corner and a sewing 
machine. An extra stove stood under 
an apple tree by the side of the house 
and two of the women were washing 
clothes for some of the campers near by. 
As we came in from the road a traveling 
baker drew up with his load of bread 
and cakes and the Indian woman came 
out to buy a few loaves. Back in the 
years her ancestor would have ground 
corn in a hole in a stone, mixed the 
coarse meal with water and wood ashes 
and baked a thin cake on a hot flat stone. 
That was one of the things which went 
with the old Indian citizenship. Now, as 
wards of the nation this family imitates 
the white man’s ways and will buy at 
least part of its bread. There was an 
excellent farm garden with all kinds of 
vegetables—from beans to squash. These 
Indians told me that they obtained about 
(10 per cent of their food from this gar¬ 
den. and the cow. As we went up the 
path we saw the man of the house srrind- 
ing some weapon on his grindstone. Years 
ago, no doubt, at about the time John 
Mason came marching up to Mystic on 
his errand of slaughter, the ancestor of 
this man would have been found sharpen¬ 
ing his tomahawk on a granite rock, but 
this man was more peacefully inclined. 
He was sharpening his scythe. The 
enemy he went forth to encounter was 
field of Red-top grass well sprinkled 
with weeds and briers. A black cow 
looked out from a small yard at the 
back of the field as though she realized 
that the nearer that scythe came to a 
razor edge the better the chances for 
Winter food. As we began to talk the 
younger of the women went to a baby 
carriage which had been halted under the 
shade of a tree and picked out a tiny 
brown specimen of humanity—an Indian 
baby which never dreamed of crying, but 
which simply doubled up its fists and 
smiled defiance at all white men who 
might say that any descendant of the 
great JJncas would be driven to tears. 
This little brown baby looked as if he 
would like _ to indulge in one of the 
cherished privileges of childhood and cry, 
but he seemed to feel like King Lear: 
“Let. not woman’s weapons water drop, 
Stain my man’s cheeks.” 
As the little thing sat on the grass and 
kicked his heels together the older woman 
seemed to read my thought—a strange 
and remarkable power which I have ob¬ 
served in many people who live in lonely 
places, haunted by curious desires which 
have come down to them from the past. 
“That’s right,” she said. “Many years 
ago a baby like that would have been 
strapped to a board and hung up on a 
nail out of the way. No baby carriage 
in them days. When the woman went 
out she carried that board on her back 
—and the baby went with it.” 
She went on to say that the Indian 
child rarely cries because for many years 
in the past hanging on his board from 
a .tree or on the wail he learned from ex¬ 
perience that “it didn’t do him no good 
to yell. He had to stay there and he 
knowe.d it.” Therefore the child learned 
early in life that complaining did him no 
good, and long habit, both inherited and 
from personal practice made him a philo¬ 
sopher. The white mother at the first 
whimper from her offspring would drop 
everything and pick him up for comfort. 
The red mother had other things to oc¬ 
cupy her, so she strapped her baby to a 
board and let him cry until she was ready 
to attend to him. Thus the white man 
as a part of his advanced civilization 
early learned that when he wanted any¬ 
thing he must cry for it, and if he only 
made noise enough he would get it in 
time. The red baby early learned that 
crying never got him anywhere, and so 
he became a philosopher before he stepped 
off his board. Thus in the white man 
this “divine discontent” wnich the poet 
tells about is usually called out by the 
smaller things of life, while the gloom 
of the red man is caused by greater dis¬ 
appointments. 
***** 
These Indians are not purebred ex¬ 
cept for a few individuals. Most of them 
are of mixed negro or white blood. The 
woman made this strange statement: “I 
am ashamed of the white blood in me. I 
would rather be pure Indian.” 
She seemed to think that the Indian 
was the superior race, both in long years 
of breeding and in character. She snoke 
in the same way that I have known peo¬ 
ple to protest against the English or 
German or French blood which they knew 
ran in their veins. It will be something 
of a shock to the Anglo-Saxon to realize 
that his boasted lineage is held in con¬ 
tempt by descendants of a race which 
goes back even further into history than 
his own. In 1637 General John Mason 
with 77 white men caught 700 Pequots in 
a fort near Mystic. When he finished 
there were only five of the Indians left 
alive. Time has not wiped out the hatred 
which these Indians still feel toward 
“that mean old Johnny Mason.” If 
these Indians had been absorbed into the 
American nation, much as the negroes 
have been, it is not likely that this bit¬ 
ter hatred would have continued. For ex¬ 
ample. let us consider what would be the 
condition of the negroes if after the war 
they had not been made actual citizens 
but had been left as wards of the govern¬ 
ment as the Indians now are! 
My first question to these people was 
why they did not surrender their rights 
as Indians and become American citizens. 
Why live as a native of this country and 
not claim all the rights of citizenship 
that America can give? In answer they 
said they preferred to live as they are. 
Under their present conditions they have 
about 25 acres of land rent free and 
without taxes. They have the right to 
cut 10 cords of wood for fuel. They have 
no deed to their land and cannot sell it, 
but its free rent would pass to their chil¬ 
dren. They also have government gifts 
of clothing for their younger children. 
The government protects their rights at 
law. What would they gain in exchange 
if they gave up these simple rights and 
became regularly naturalized citizens? 
They could vote—but could the ballot 
bring them any greater protection than 
the government now gives them? Where 
could thev go and obtain free land for a 
home? The Indian is by nature a farm¬ 
er. More so than any of the other hu¬ 
man elements which make up our popula¬ 
tion. He could hold office, but never 
could be elected to any. He would have 
to pay taxes and be subject to many de¬ 
mands and calls from which he is now 
exempt. Wbat advantage then would 
an American citizen have over an 
American ward? 
***** 
Now I confess that all this put the 
question to me in a new way. What is 
(Continued on Page 1099) 
OeSummil Pipeless Furnace 
A 
t€oi<fair% 
I Floor j 
\ Drafts' 
\\ S' * 
COlO Ain HOT AIB COID AIR 
Insures Better Heating 
Ufitfi Less Fuel 
Easy to Install 
in Old or New Homes 
The Special Summit Installation which prevents all cold 
a l r + draft.s over your floors is the big outstanding feature 
of this splendid heating plant. 
There are two separate cold air return registers, and 
through these registers the cold air is returned to the 
furnace where it is heated, purified and re-distributed 
throughout the building. 
This system of installation was originated and perfected 
by us and it has gained for the Summit Pipeless the 
endorsement of experienced heating engineers and 
building contractors. 
Summit Engineering Service is Free. Send us your 
problems and we will direct you to our nearest dealer 
where the Summit system of heating will be thoroughly 
demonstrated to you. 
Summit Foundrtj Co 
Geneva, N/VT 
Self-Feeding 
Saves 
Feed 
Hogs are higher 
now but so is 
feed. A Leo]a 
Hog Feeder will save feed and help you to 
make big profits on your hogs. It takes 
any size of chopped or grain feed, mash 
or tankage. 
A recent Official test showed that Self- 
Fed hogs gain 45% more weight at 25% less 
cost and yield a profit 13:i% greater than 
liand-fed hogs. A "Leola” will do this 
for you ! 
Write for descriptive folder and prices — Today! 
H. M. STAUFFER & SON, Box F, LEOLA, PA. 
'ay. 
This is a good time to seed Alfalfa. It pays to get 
the best seed to be had—our “Northwest" brand. 
Genuine American Northern Seed, grown where only 
hardy plants can live. Surest to catch 
and hold. Sold on a Money-back 
Guarantee. Good Alfalfa Seed is 
scarce this Fall—better make sure of 
yours now. 
Also double cleaned Seed Wheat, pure 
and true to name-6 varieties. Timothy and 
Rosen Rye. Write today for Catalog and 
Samples—both free. 
A. H. HOFFMAN, INC. 
Box 15' Landisville, Lancaster Co., Pa. 
Attention! Mr. Maple Sugar Maker 
Ninety percent of all 
the evaporators sold 
in Northern New 
York last year were 
our Famous Vermont. 
The Famous Vermont 
Evaporator Is the lat¬ 
est Improved appli¬ 
ance for boiling sap. 
It is the only practi¬ 
cal, rapid shallow 
boiling evaporator on the market. Write to us regard¬ 
ing your wants and mention number of trees you tap 
Address nearest office. VERMONT EVAPORATOR 00. OF 
N. T., INC., SC. ii Falls, New York. Rutland, Vermont 
WATERPROOF 
g&A^ANVE To' 
absolutely warm and dry. 
Coat is made of genuine U.S. 
Gas Mask cloth, has rubber backing, 
is double stitched, all seams care¬ 
fully sewed andeemented. STYLISH 
as well as WATERPROOF. Has all 
around belt, two roomy slash pock¬ 
ets, adjustable tabs to tighten 
sleeves. Cut extra full. Sizes: 
34 to 48. Average length 45 inches. 
A bargain at $4.49. Oroer Stylo 
No. 118. 
Style No. 120. Goodyear Guaran¬ 
teed Waterproof top coat. Double- 
breasted, 4-button model. Slash 
convertible pockets. Color, Mole 
Brown. Extra good value at $8.95. 
Sizes: 34 to 48; length 45 inches. 
SEND NO MONEY. WeshipC.O.D. 
postage prepaid. Money back at 
once if not satisfied. Order today. 
International Commercial House, Inc. 
433 Broadway. Dept. B314, H. Y. City 
i^ANVAS ALL K,NDS 
I all sizes 
OVERS 
\ M L, E3 Protect your hay stacks. 
If automobiles, tractors, 
m 'V etc etc against the 
weather. We make canvas covers for every usual and unusual 
need around the home or the farm. Any size; any shape. 
Very reasonable prices. — 
Write for catalog and prices 
BOWMAN, DURHAM, ROBBINS, INC. 
26 Front Street Brooklyn, N. Y. 
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiiiiiiimiiiiimmii 
The Farmer His 
Own Builder 
By H. Armstrong Roberto 
A practical and 
handy book of all 
kinds of building 
information from 
concrete to carpen¬ 
try. Price $1.50. 
For sale by 
THE 
RURAL NEW-Y0RKE8 
333 W. 30th St.. N. ¥. 
ii i iiiiiii i mi 11 iiiiiiiii 11 ill i ill Him min 111 it 
Adventures in Silence 
By Herbert W. Col ling wood 
This is the first serious attempt to interpret the 
peculiar and adventurous life of the hard-of- 
hearing. Beautifully bound in cloth, 288 pages. 
Price $1.00, Postpaid 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
333 West 30th Street New York City 
