Category: 1890s

Categories
1890s Short Story

Remnant

Remnant

By Margaret Johnson
Annotations by Josh Benjamin
Artist unknown. Yard of cats. Chromolithograph, 1893, Library of Congress Online Catalog.

The cats of Marblehead [1] always seemed to me a very important part of the population. There was Post-Office Tom, over on the Neck [2], a great, handsome fellow who presided over the distribution of the mails, looking down with big green eyes from his lofty perch on the very top of the pigeon-holed cabinet where the letters awaited their owners.

There was the bewitching Maltese kitten who took me in charge when I went sketching in the old town, and sat demurely at my side while I worked, with an occasional scamper after her own frolicsome gray tail by way of refreshment. There were various aristocratic cottage cats, sleek and proud; and there was Remnant.

The first time I saw her, the little steamer had just come in from the Neck, and the people were hurrying to and fro, some going ashore and some running to take their places in the boat; and Remnant, not a bit abashed by all the bustle, looked on with her bright eyes from the post where she lay basking in the sunshine, and evidently feeling herself the proprietress of the whole affair.

War Department, Office of the Chief of Engineers. Defense of Salem and Marblehead Harbor Map. 1818, 
Digital Public Library of America.

It seemed a strange place for a cat, I thought; but she was quite as much at home among the boats and piles of timber and dingy wharf-houses as is your own puss in her peaceful backyard, or her corner by the kitchen stove.

She was a pretty creature, black and gray and tawny yellow, with snow-white breast and paws, and because of this coloring, like a piece of gay calico, the sailors gave her the curious name of “Remnant.” She had a family of kittens somewhere among the old canvas in one of the dark sail-lofts; but she had hidden them away so safely that even her good friends the sailors could not find them.

All night she stayed with them, and part of the day, but I am sure she felt equally the responsibility of looking after the wharf, to see that the boats came and went regularly, and that the float was kept as clean as a tidy cat would wish to see it.

And how was she fed? No doubt there were plenty of rats and mice about the wharves, but Remnant had a taste for daintier fare, as you shall see.

When the little steamer had puffed away again, and the deserted float swayed gently on the quiet water, kind Captain T. looked up at Remnant, where she still sat on her post in the sunshine.

“I guess you’re hungry, puss,” he said. “It’s about dinner-time.” Then he called, “Kit, kit, kit!” She blinked her eyes lazily, and did not move. The captain smiled at me.

“This will fetch her,” he said, and took a fishing-reel out of his pocket.

“Kit, kit, kit!” he called again softly, holding it up so that she could see. And Remnant understood. Down she came, stepping gravely along the gangplank, and looked up with questioning eyes in the captain’s face.

“Are you hungry, puss?” he asked.

“Me-ow!” she answered gently, with a wave of her plumy tail.

Then the captain knelt down on the float, unwound his reel and dropped the line into the water, and Remnant settled herself beside him, watching every movement with an air of entire familiarity with the proceedings. She was too well-bred to show any impatience.

Original illustration from The Youth’s Companion, p. 327.

Her manners were perfect, though she was not born and brought up on the wharf, and had not had the advantages which your pussy has enjoyed. She cocked her pretty head on one side with an expression of alert and intelligent interest, restrained by a gentle dignity. Jerk! up came the line. A quiver ran through Remnant’s delicate body. But there was only a bit of seaweed on the hook, and down it went again.

Over and over this happened, and still with unwearied patience the man knelt and threw his line, and the cat sat motionless beside him, gazing gravely down into the dark water. The float rose and fell on the tide, and the sunshine lay warm on the boards, and I watched the pretty sight, smiling, from my bench corner.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go hungry, puss,” said the captain at last. “They won’t bite to-day.” And then, as he spoke, jerk! up came the line again, and he sprang to his feet, for this time there was a little fish dangling and shining on the hook!

Remnant would have liked to jump for joy, I think. But she didn’t. She caught the fish in her white paws, with a soft “me-ow!” for “thank you,” when the captain tossed it to her, and walked away to enjoy her dinner in a sheltered corner; after which she sought her young family to tell them, no doubt, about the fishing, while the good captain wound up his line and went whistling off to his own dinner.

A wise cat was Remnant! Down on her wharf she might miss some of the privileges enjoyed by her fashionable cottage friends, but which of them had a fresh fish dinner caught and served up every day for her own especial benefit?

Original illustration from The Youth’s Companion, p. 327.
Johnson, Margaret. “Remnant.” The youth’s companion 72, No. 27 (July 1898): 327.

[1] Marblehead is a coastal town in Massachusetts, about 16 miles northeast of Boston. It was established as part of Salem in 1635 and became independent in 1649. Order from the General Court of the Massachusetts Bay Colony quoted in The Founding of Marblehead, by Thomas E. Gray, Gateway Press, 1984.

[2] The Neck is a smaller bit of land connected by a causeway to the main peninsula of Marblehead. It is the site of the Marblehead lighthouse and in the later 19th century became a neighborhood for the wealthy.

Contexts

The area now known as Marblehead was originally part of Salem and inhabited by the Naumkeag of the Algonquin Nation, who had named it Massebequash. Smallpox outbreaks in the early 1600s decimated the Naumkeags, and in 1686, the white settlers took ownership of the land through a deed made with the descendants of Wenepoykin, who had died two years prior as a slave in Barbados. It was a hub for the U.S. Naval activity and New England fishing industry throughout the late 18th and 19th centuries.

During the 19th century, cats were not commonly the domesticated companions they are now. Throughout much of history, aside from ancient Egypt, they were severely mistreated and considered evil. By the mid-1800s, cats were still subject to an undeserved reputation on par with weasels and raccoons, as noted by cat historian Paul Koudounaris in “‘The Feline States of America’: How Cats Helped Shape the US.”

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

Fishing continues to be an area where commercial enterprise encroaches upon indigenous fishing and BIPOC fishers face racism. The community organization Brown Folks Fishing works to challenge the “white supremacy, erasure, and colonialism” surrounding fishing and other conservation activities, and the ongoing situation faced by the Mi’kmaq fishers in Nova Scotia is just one of many instances of the clash between commercial and indigenous fishers.

Categories
1890s Poem

On The Train

On The Train

By Celia Thaxter
Annotations by Maggie Kelly
Photograph by Franklin Davenport Edmunds (1899). This image is courtesy of the Free Library of Philadelphia under the public domain. 
Through the storm, through the wind and the rain
Rushes the clattering train;
Past the hills, across valley and plain,
Through city and hamlet again, [1]
With a rumble and roar we speed on
Till the half of our journey is done.

Close wrapped in my corner I dream,
Watching the raindrops stream
O'er the misty pane, and the gleam
Of the white of the steam,
As they hurry past and are lost,
On the wings of the tempest tossed.[2]

Through the smoke and the din and the blur
Fast, fast I am flying to her!
All the thunder, the rattle and whir,
The noisy discomfort, the stir,
Are nothing to me, for my sense
Is lost in a rapture intense.

And like golden bees through the storm
Sweet memories cluster and swarm;
Sweet thoughts round a maidenly form
That I see by the firelight warm, --
Bright eyes that are watching the clock,
Little ears that are waiting my knock;

And I know how the color will rush
In that beautiful mantling blush
To her cheek, till its delicate flush
Shall rival the rose, as I hush
With a word her heart's tumult divine
And she lays her white hand within mine.

Then thunder, thou clattering train,
And roar through the wind and the rain,
Past the hills, across valley and plain
Devour the long leagues! -- till again
In the light of my love's happy eyes
The sun of my life shall arise.
Thaxter, Celia. “On the Train.” In The Poems of Celia Thaxter. Cambridge, 1896. https://search-proquest-com.libproxy.uncg.edu/ap/docview/2147591728/Z200158788/7660E8A386A6415FPQ/1?accountid=14604.

[1] A hamlet is a small settlement that is usually smaller than a village.

[2] A tempest is a storm.

Contexts

Throughout the 19th century, the American railroads were built and trains quickly became the most efficient way to travel across the country. The first railroad was built in Great Britain, and the US soon after followed suit and began to build the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Soon after, railroads began to sprout up across the continental US, with the Transcontinental Railroad quickly becoming the most expansive US railroad. According to UShistory.org, US railroads “brought profound social, economic and political change to a country only 50 years old.” For more information about trains in the 1800s, visit US History’s page.

Resources for Further Study

Categories
1890s Column

Our Little Gray Helper.

Our Little Gray Helper.

By Myrta Lockett Avary
Annotations by Kathryn t. burt
Mark Fenderson, I’m so desperately afraid of earthworms, 1911, pen and ink on paper. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs, https://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2010715629/

We have a little gray helper who cannot hear, nor see, nor make any noise. He wears a little gray coat, and he lives in tiny caves which he burrows out for himself. Our little gray helper has no feet, so he crawls.

He works busily for us all day in the ground under our feet, coming out chiefly to get his food. Then he does not take anything which anyone wants, but only fallen leaves and bits of stuff which no one cares about, and which are best out of the way.

Although much less fortunate than we, having neither legs, nor feet, nor hands, nor eyes, nor ears, he has all that is necessary; and since our little gray helper has all he needs, and does his work, and does it well, we may think of him as being quite content and happy. And since the work that he does for us is very necessary and important work, and since he does it excellently well, we need not regard him with less than respect.

He has a system of blood-vessels[1], a nervous-system[2], and—yes, a brain. When you come to consider him under a microscope and in relation to the work he has to do, he is quite an interesting and exquisite bit of mechanism. He uses his brain, and has wisdom to know what to eat and how to get it. Though he has neither eyes nor hands, before taking anything into his cave, he examines it carefully by means of his one sense (touch), and with his little upper lip, which the scientists call prostomium. This lip is very sensitive.

He is prudent[3] and thrifty[4], always dragging into his little house enough to secure him against the coming day, for blind and deaf as he is, he knows it is not wise to be out in the day-time, for the birds and their babies like him entirely too well. He also knows that, being of a chilly nature, he will need to be wrapped up a bit when he goes to sleep in his cave, so he makes his own little bed of blades of grass and bits of leaves which he has dragged in with the little lip that does so much. He seems to like fresh air when he can get it, so he rests with his head near the mouth of his cave; and Mother Nature, realizing that this might give Robin Redbreast an unfair advantage of him, provided him with a head-covering darker than the rest of his coat, and very nearly the color of earth.

Now, do you want to know what work it is our little gray helper does for us? To look at him you could never dream how important it is. Perhaps we might call him a farmer, since he tills the soil. Do you know that lands where trees and plants and flowers and fruits and abundant grains and grasses grow would be barren deserts but for the little gray worker?

Darwin watched the ways of this little gray worker for years and years, and found that his office was to prepare and fertilize the soil. He carries down layer after layer of stuff, and brings up layer after layer of loam, thus giving each layer its chance at sunlight and air. That which he carries down into Mother Earth’s workshop is bits of dead leaves, decomposing matter, and unsightly stuff; and Mother Earth feeds with this the roots of flowers and trees and vegetables and grain and grasses. To do this important work well, there is needed a great number of little gray workers: about 57,000, it is said, to an acre of pasture-land, and more to keep a garden what it should be. For every acre the little gray workers turn up from seven to eighteen tons of earth annually.

Do you know, now, who our little gray helper is? I will tell you. He is only the little earth-worm—crawling along, blind, deaf, and dumb[5] at your feet!

Avary, Myrta Lockett. 1898. “Our Little gray helper.” ST. NICHOLAS: AN ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE FOR YOUNG FOLKS, ED. MARY MAPES DODGE, 25, no. 2 (May 1898 – Oct 1898): 673. https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=njp.32101065275008&view=1up&seq=157.

[1] Blood vessels are very small tubes that the body uses to push blood through. The process is similar to how you might move soda through a straw by sucking it up or blowing it out.

[2] The nervous system is your body’s electrical wiring, which is all hooked up to your brain. These wires, made up of nerves and neurons, send signals back and forth between different sections of your body and your brain. When you touch something hot, your nerves tell your brain to watch out!

[3] Practical or showing thought for future needs and events

[4] Careful to avoid unnecessary waste, especially wasting money

[5] In this case, “dumb” means that earthworms cannot speak, not that they are stupid.

Contexts

The brief reference to Darwin is an indication that Avary was familiar with his 1881 book, The Formation of Vegetable Mould Through the Action of Worms, With Observations on Their Habits. The book was an extensive study of earthworm behavior in which Darwin claimed, “It may be doubted whether there are many other animals which have played so important a part in the history of the world, as have these lowly organised creatures” (313). According to Anna Henchman, this final work of Darwin’s is noteworthy because “he urges his reader to think about how topics ranging from sentience to agriculture look different when we begin with earthworms, rather than starting with the human as our prototype for perception, cognition, and civilization.” Avary’s work here is very much in the same spirit as Darwin’s, as she takes care here to show young people the value of all lives, even that of the small and seemingly inconsequential earthworm.

Resources for Further Study
  • Most of the information we have about Myrta Lockett Avary is because of her correspondence, notes, sketches, and drafts, which are now kept at the Kenan Research Center at the Atlanta History Center.
  • Unfortunately, while there are many wonderful texts that depict young characters exploring and learning about the natural world, these characters and the texts they live within are largely designed for a white audience. For more on the importance of representation in children’s nature literature, see Ashley Fetter’s excellent article, “Where Is the Black Blueberries for Sal?”
Pedagogy

Is your child or student interested in further exploring the natural sciences? Consider finding a citizen science initiative to take part in! With citizen science, everyday members of our society voluntarily participate in the scientific process, usually by collecting and submitting data to researchers collecting a large repository of information for analysis. For example, see the Earthworm Watch project for an excellent example of citizen science initiatives that encourage everyday people to participate in the data collection process. While the project leaders are not currently accepting data, the procedures and findings are available on their website for the public to explore and draw inspiration from. You can learn more about what citizen science is at CitizenScience.gov. For currently active projects, check out the following resources:

Categories
1890s 1910s Folktale Native American Wild animals

The Antelope Boy

The Antelope Boy

Collected by Charles Lummis
Annotations by Ian McLAughlin
Pronghorn Antelope – Jean Beaufort

Once upon a time there were two towns of the Tée-wahn, called Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee (white village) and Nah-choo-rée-too-ee (yellow village). A man of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee and his wife were attacked by Apaches while out on the plains one day and took refuge in a cave, where they were besieged. And there a boy was born to them. The father was killed in an attempt to return to his village for help; and starvation finally forced the mother to crawl forth by night seeking roots to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to her own village, and it was several days before she could return to the cave—only to find it empty.

The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure. Just then a Coyote[1] was passing, and heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked it up and carried it across the plain until he came to a herd of antelopes. Among them was a Mother-Antelope that had lost her fawn; and going to her the Coyote said:

“Here is an ah-bóo (poor thing) that is left by its people. Will you take care of it?”

The Coyote Carries the Baby to the Antelope Mother

The Mother-Antelope, remembering her own baby, with tears said “Yes” and at once adopted the tiny stranger, while the Coyote thanked her and went home.

So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and grew up among them until he was about twelve years old. Then it happened that a hunter came out from Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for antelopes, and found this herd. Stalking them carefully, he shot one with an arrow. The rest started off, running like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as they were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter was much surprised, and, shouldering his game, walked back to the village, deep in thought. Here he told the Cacique[2] what he had seen. Next day the crier was sent out to call upon all the people to prepare for a great hunt, in four days,[3] to capture the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes.

While preparations were going on in the village, the antelopes in some way heard of the intended hunt and its purpose. The Mother-Antelope was very sad when she heard it, and at first would say nothing. But at last she called her adopted son to her and said: “Son you have heard that the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee are coming to hunt. But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take you. They will surround us, intending to let all the antelopes escape from the circle. You must follow me where I break through the line, and your real mother will be coming on the northeast side in a white manta (robe). I will pass close to her, and you must stagger and fall where she can catch you.”

On the fourth day all the people went out upon the plains. They found and surrounded the herd of antelopes, which ran about in a circle when the hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller and the antelopes began to break through; but the hunters paid no attention to them, keeping their eyes upon the boy. At last he and his antelope mother were the only ones left, and when she broke through the line on the northeast he followed her and fell at the feet of his own human mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in her arms.

Amid great rejoicing he was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee, and there he told the principales[4] how he had been left in the cave, how the Coyote had pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had reared him as her own son.

It was not long before all the country round about heard of the Antelope Boy and of his marvelous fleetness of foot. You must know that the antelpes never comb their hair, and while among them the boy’s head had grown very bushy. So the people called him Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh (big-headed little boy).

Among the other villages that heard of his prowess was Nah-choo-rée-too-ee, all of whose people “had the bad road.”[5] They had a wonderful runner named Pée-k’hoo (Deer-foot), and very soon they sent a challenge to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for a championship race. Four days were to be given for preparation, to make bets, and the like.

The race was to be around the world.[6] Each village was to stake all its property and the lives of all its people on the result of the race. So powerful were the witches of Nah-choo-rée-too-ee that they felt safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee were ashamed to decline the challenge.

The day came and the starting point was surrounded by all the people of the two villages, dressed in their best. On each side were huge piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and all the other property of the people. The runner for the yellow village was a tall, sinewy athlete, strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope Boy appeared for the other side, the witches set up a howl of derision and began to strike their rivals and jeer at them, saying, “Pooh! We might as well begin to kill you now! What can that óo-deh (little thing) do?

At the word “Hái-ko!” (“Go!”) the two runners started toward the east like the wind. The Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but Deer-foot, by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and flew lightly over the lad, saying, “We do this way to each other!”[7] The Antelope Boy kept running, but his heart was very heavy, for he knew that no feet could equal the swift flight of the hawk.

But just as he came half-way to the east, a Mole came up from its burrow and said: “My son, where are you going so fast with a sad face?”

The lad explained that the race was for the property and the lives of all his people; and that the witch runner had turned into a hawk and left him far behind.

Rain Falls on Pée-K’Hoo

“Then, my son,” said the Mole, “I will be he that shall help you. Only sit down here a little while, and I will give you something to carry.”

The boy sat down, and the Mole diced into the hold, but soon came back with four cigarettes.[8]

Holding them out the Mold said, “Now, my son, when you have reached the east and turned north, smoke one; when you have reached the north and turn west, smoke another; when you turn south, another and when you turn east again, another. Hái-ko!”

The boy ran on, and soon reached the east. Turning his face to the north he smoked the first cigarette. No sooner was it finished than he became a young antelope; and at the same instant a furious rain began. Refreshed by the cool drops, he started like an arrow from the bow. Half-way to the north he came to a large tree; and there sat the hawk, drenched and chilled, unable to fly, and crying piteously.

“Now, friend, we too do this to each other,” called the boy-antelope as he dashed past. But just as he reached the north, the hawk—which had become dry after the short rain—caught up and passed him, saying, “We too do this to each other!” The boy-antelope turned westward, and smoked the second cigarette; and at once another terrific rain began.[9] Half-way to the west he again passed the hawk shivering and crying in a tree, and unable to fly; but as he was about to turn to the south, the hawk passed him with the customary taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette brought another storm, and again the antelope passed the wet hawk half-way, and again the hawk dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him as he was turning to the east for the home-stretch. Here again the boy-antelope stopped and smoked a cigarette—the fourth and last. Again a short, hard rain came and again he passed the water-bound hawk half-way.

The Two Runners Came Sweeping Down the Home-stretch Straining Every Nerve

Knowing of the witchcraft of their neighbors, the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee had made the condition that, in whatever shape the racers might run the rest of the course, they must resume human form upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn, which was in sight of the goal. The last wetting of the hawk’s feathers delayed it so that the antelope reached the hill just ahead; and there, resuming their natural shapes, the two runners came sweeping down the home-stretch, straining at every nerve. But the Antelope Boy gained at each stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt confident that he was their champion, and again began to push, and taunt, and jeer at their others. But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy turned to mourning.

The people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee burned all the witches upon the spot, in a great pile of corn; but somehow one escaped, and from him come all the witches that trouble us to this day.

The property of the witches was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee; and as it was more than that village could hold, the surplus was sent to Shee-eh-whíb-bak (Isleta),[10] where we enjoy it to this day; and later the people themselves moved here. And even now, when we dig in that little hill on the other side of the charco (pools), we find charred corn-cobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people of the yellow village.

LUMMIS, CHARLES FLETCHER. THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES. THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES, BY CHARLES LUMIS. NEW YORK, NY: THE CENTURY CO., 1894. HTTPS://HDL.HANDLE.NET/2027/UC2.ARK:/13960/T3WS8JC1P.

[1] The small prairie-wolf. (Lummis)
Coyote Tales of the Southwest has more coyote stories.

[2] The highest religious official (Lummis)

[3] Four is the most important number in many Native American cultures. It stands for a cycle of fertility, being found in the four ages of man, the four seasons, and the four cardinal directions.

[4] The old men who are the congress of the pueblo (Lummis)

[5] That is, were witches (Lummis)

[6] The Pueblos believed it was an immense plain whereon the racers were to race over a square course—to the extreme east, then to the extreme north, and so on, back to the starting point. (Lummis)

[7] A common Indian taunt, either good-natured or bitter, to the loser of a game or to a conquered enemy (Lummis)

[8] These are made by putting a certain weed called pee-én-hleh into hollow reeds. (Lummis)

[9]The cigarette plays an important part in the Pueblo folk-stories,—they never had the pipe of the Northern Indians, —and all the rain-clouds are supposed to come from its smoke. (Lummis)

[10] Isleta is the largest of the Tée-wahn pueblos and the second-largest pueblo overall.

Contexts

Stories of humans raised by animals are almost as old as civilization. The story of Romulus and Remus from Roman mythology, Kippling’s Mowgli, and Incident at Hawk’s Hill (1971) by naturalist and writer Allan W. Eckert all use this trope. In most cases, this connection to nature is accompanied by animal-like abilities, such as ferocity in battle, literally talking to animals, or, in the case of “The Antelope Boy” running as fast as an antelope.

Resources for Further Study
  • “The Sacred Hoop: A Contemporary Perspective on Native American Literature” from The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions by Paula Gunn Allen is a great essay on how to read Native Literature as a non-Native.
  • The Man Who Married the Moon by Charles Lummis (also published under the title Pueblo Indian folk-stories) is an excellent resource on the stories and the culture of the Tée-wahn pueblos of New Mexico.
  • “Locating the Human in Performance” from Affect, Animals, and Autists: Feeling Around the Edges of the Human in Performance by Marla Carlson touches on the idea of the feral child and how it shapes our understanding of civilization.
Pedagogy

Despite the cigarette imagery, this story is great for a comparative reading with other stories of children raised by animals, such as those listed in the Contexts section above.

Contemporary Connections

Avatar: The Last Airbender features a character raised by giant badger-like creatures.
The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kippling and the subsequent movies, including the most recent Disney version, have captured imaginations for more than a century.

Categories
1890s 1910s Folktale Short Story

Coyote Tales of the Southwest

Coyote Tales of the Southwest[1]

Collected by Katharine Berry Judson, Charles Fletcher Lummis
Annotations by Ian McLaughlin/JB
Artist unknown. Untitled (Coyote and Turtle). Carved, varnished, and painted walnut, c. after 1930,
Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C. [2]
THE COYOTE AND THE BEAR

Once upon a time Ko-íd-deh (the Bear) and Too-wháy-deh (the Coyote), [3] chanced to meet at a certain spot, and sat down to talk. After a while the Bear said:

“Friend Coyote, do you see what good land this is here? What do you say if we farm it together, sharing our labor and the crop?”

The Coyote thought well of it, and said so; and after talking, they agreed to plant potatoes in partnership.

“Now,” said the Bear, “I think of a good way to divide the crop. I will take all that grows below the ground, and you take all that grows above it. Then each can take away his share when he is ready, and there will be no trouble to measure.”

The Coyote agreed, and when the time came they plowed the place with a sharp stick and planted their potatoes. All summer they worked together in the field, hoeing down the weeds with stone hoes and letting in water now and then from the irrigating-ditch. When harvest-time came, the Coyote went and cut off all the potato-tops at the ground and carried them home, and afterward the Bear scratched out the potatoes from the ground with his big claws and took them to his house. When the Coyote saw this his eyes were opened and he said:

“But this is not fair. You have those round things, which are good to eat, but what I took home we cannot eat at all, neither my wife nor I.”

“But, friend Coyote,” answered the Bear, gravely, “did we not make an agreement? Then we must stick to it like men.”

The Coyote could not answer, and went home; but he was not satisfied.

The next spring, as they met one day, the Bear said:

“Come, friend Coyote, I think we ought to plant this good land again, and this time let us plant it in corn. But last year you were dissatisfied with your share, so this year we will change. You take what is below the ground for your share, and I will take only what grows above.”

This seemed very fair to the Coyote, and he agreed. They plowed and planted and tended the corn; and when it came harvest-time the Bear gathered all the stalks and ears and carried tehm home. When the Coyote came to dig his share, he found nothing but roots like threads, which were good for nothing. He was very much dissatisfied; but the Bear reminded him of their agreement, and he could say nothing.

That winter the Coyote was walking one day by the river (the Rio Grande), when he saw the Bear sitting on the ice and eating a fish. The Coyote was very fond of fish, and coming up, he said:

“Friend Bear, where did you get such a fat fish?”

Edward Kemeys. Bear. Bronze, c. before 1907, Smithsonian American Art Museum and its Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.

“Oh, I broke a hole in the ice,” said the Bear, “and fished for them. There are many here.” And he went on eating, without offering any to the Coyote.

“Won’t you show me how, friend?” ansked the Coyote, fainting with hunger at the smell of the fish.

“Oh, yes,” said the Bear. “It is very easy.” And he broke a hole in the ice with his paw. “Now, friend Coyote, sit down and let your tail hang in the water, and very soon you will feel a nibble. But you must not pull it till I tell you.”

So the Coyote sat down with his tail in the cold water. Soon the ice began to form around it, and he called:

“Friend Bear, I feel a bite! Let me pull him out.”

“No, no! Not yet!” cried the Bear, “wait till he gets a good hold, and then you will not lose him.”

So the Coyote waited. In a few minutes the hole was frozen solid, and his tail was fast.

“Now, friend Coyote,” called the Bear, “I think you have him. Pull!”

The Coyote pulled with all his might, but could not lift his tail from the ice, and there he was—a prisoner. While he pulled and howled, the Bear shouted with laughter, and rolled on the ice and ha-ha’d thill his sides were sore. There he took his fish and went home, stopping every little to laugh at the thought of the Coyote.

There on the ice the Coyote had to stay until a thaw liberated him, and when he got home he was very wet and cold and half starved. And from that day to this he has never forgiven the Bear, and will not even speak to him when they meet, and the Bear says, politely, “Good morning, friend Too-wháy-deh.”

Is that so?” cry the boys.

“That is so,” says Felipe. “But now it is time to go home. Tóo-kwai!”

The story-telling is over for to-night. Grandmother Reyes is unrolling the mattresses upon the floor; and with pleasant “good-nights” we scatter for our homes here and there in the quaint adobe village.

Original editor’s footnote: The Coyote, you must know, is very stupid about some things; and in almost all Pueblo fairy stories is the victim of one joke or another. The bear, on the other hand, is one of the wisest of animals.

THE THEFT OF FIRE (Sia, New Mexico) [4]

A long, long time ago, the people became tired of feeding on grass, like deer and wild animals, and they talked together how fire might be found. The Ti-amoni said, “Coyote is the best man to steal fire from the world below,” so he sent for Coyote.

When Coyote came, the Ti-amoni said, “The people wish for fire. We are tired of feeding on grass. You must go to the world below and bring the fire.”

Coyote said, “It is well, father. I will go.”

Will James. Coyote-Clown of the Prairies. Pen and ink, 1921, Library of Congress Prints & Photographs Online Catalog.

So Coyote slipped stealthily to the house of Sussistinnako [5]. It was the middle of the night. Snake, who guarded the first door, was asleep, and he slipped quickly and quietly by. Cougar, who guarded the second door, was asleep, and Coyote slipped by. Bear, who guarded the third door, was also sleeping. At the fourth door, Coyote found the guardian of the fire asleep. Slipping through into the room of Sussistinnako, he found him also sleeping.

Coyote quickly lighted the cedar brand which was attached to his tail and hurried out. Spider awoke, just enough to know some one was leaving the room. “Who is there?” he cried. Then he called “Some one has been here.” But before he could waken the sleeping Bear and Cougar and Snake, Coyote had almost reached the upper world.

COYOTE AND THE FAWNS (Sia, New Mexico)

Another day when he was traveling around, Coyote met a deer with two fawns. The fawns were beautifully spotted, and he said to the deer, “How did you paint your children? They are so beautiful!”

Deer replied, “I painted them with fire from the cedar.”

“And how did you do the work?” asked Coyote.

“I put my children into a cave and built a fire of cedar in front of it. Every time a spark flew from the fire it struck my children, making a beautiful spot.”

“Oh,” said Coyote, “I will do the same thing. Then I will make my children beautiful.”

William L. Finley. Coyote Hunt. Photograph, 1908, Digital Public Library of America.

He hurried to his house and put his children in a cave. Then he built a fire of cedar in front of it and stood off to watch the fire. But the children cried because the fire was very hot. Coyote kept calling to them not to cry because they would be beautiful like the deer. After a time the crying ceased and Coyote was pleased. But when the fire died down, he found they were burned to death. Coyote expected to find them beautiful, but instead they were dead.

Then he was enraged with the deer and ran away to hunt her, but he could not find her anywhere. He was much distressed to think the deer had fooled him so easily.

JUDSON, KATHARINE BERRY., ED. “The Theft of fire,” in MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF california and the old southwest, 83-84. A. C. MCCLURG & CO., 1912.
JUDSON, KATHARINE BERRY., ED. “Coyote and the fawns,” IN MYTHS AND LEGENDS, 162-163.
LUMMIS, CHARLES FLETCHER. “The Coyote and the bear,” in THE MAN WHO MARRIED THE MOON AND OTHER PUEBLO INDIAN FOLK-STORIES, 30-33. THE CENTURY CO., 1894.

[1] The Coyote is a core character in the southwestern tribal mythologies. His stories are usually used to teach children how—or how not—to act. His stories should only be told in winter.

[3] These names are from the Tée-wahn language, spoken at several Pueblos, most notably the Isleta Pueblo. (Lummis)

[4] The modern spelling is Zia. The Zia sun symbol is used—without the pueblo’s permission—on the state flag of New Mexico. Judson includes the tribal origins of each tale with the title.

[5] Sussistinnako is the first of all living creatures, the Great Spider, and the grandparent of all humanity in Zia mythology.

Contexts

Trickster tales like these permeate world cultures: from the Biblical Jacob; to China’s Sun Wukong; to Loki from Norse Mythology; to Indra the Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain deity; to the African Ananse; the trickster archetype is a core of folklore. Trickster characters typically display several of the following six traits (according to Hynes and Doty; see resource below): fundamental ambiguity, deceitfulness, the ability to shape-shift or disguise, frequent desire to invert situations, imitation of or acting as messengers for gods, and being sacred and lewd do-it-yourself types.

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

[2] From the gallery label: “This carving seems to portray a Hopi tale about Coyote and Turtle…While the carver of this sculpture is unknown, the imagery resembles illustrations done by Fred Kabotie (1900-86), a Hopi from the second Mesa, for Taytay’s Tales, published in 1922.

Categories
1890s Poem

from The Festival of the Freaks

from The Festival of the Freaks

By Will Carleton
Annotations by Maggie Kelly
“Group including circus performers” photograph by Leon H. Abdalian (1916). Image is courtesy of Boston Public Library (no known copyright).

Oh, I am a showman old, [1]
   And I am a showman bold;
  I stand outdoor an hour or more,
  And point with pride to the things inside,
  As I beseech, in eloquent speech,
  That the crowd will see what things there be
  Of those that stay in the far away,
  And not forget Instruction’s debt:
  They laugh at me, and they chaff at me,
  And I pay them back with the sudden crack
  Of the lash of a word; and if they’re stirred
     To give me a fistic stroke [2]
     In pay for my little joke,

  “Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” says I; [2]
  They come from far an’ they come from nigh.
  “Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” reply,
  An’ each for each is ready to die.

     Oh, I am a showman old,
     Uncommonly large and bold!
  I stand outside with a gesture wide,
  And speak up loud to the credulous crowd,
  And tell what we desire ’em to see,
  And maybe cut orf an inch o’ the dwarf
  And add some lies to the giant’s size,
  And tell in what part of Australia’s heart
Was the wild boy born we caught one morn
  With his woolly head in a Kansas bed!
The whole o’ the truth I’ve told from youth,
  Whatever betides, and more besides!
     An’ ever if unbelief
     Is apt to bring me grief,

“Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” says I; [3]
  They come from far an’ they come from nigh.
  “Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” reply,
  An’ each is ready for each to die.

     Oh, I am a showman old;
     Perhaps you never was told
  Concerning the row I sing of now,
  A-circusin’ late in Texas State:
  Right in the crowd a fellow allowed
  That cousin to me was the Chimpanzee.
  I took a shy at his nearmost eye, [4]
  An’ down he went like an egg in Lent! [5]
  His friends laid out to knock us about,
  But ’twasn’t a go—this whippin’ a show;
  We cleared ’em up, like flies in a cup—
  I’d almost bet some lie there yet!
     There wasn’t a minute to spare
     ‘Fore all our crowd was there!

  “Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” says I;
  They come from far an’ they come from nigh.
  “Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub! Hey, Reub!” they cry,
  An’ each was ready for each to die.

Carleton, Will. The Festival of the Freaks. New York: 1892. https://login.libproxy.uncg.edu/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/docview/2147534027?accountid=14604.
Contexts

Freak shows, also called sideshows, are cultural phenomenon that have been around for over 500 years. Originating in Europe, freak shows became a popular attraction in the United States in the 19th century and began to lose their popularity in the mid-20th century.

For more information about the history of freak shows, visit https://www.sheffield.ac.uk/nfca/researchandarticles/freakshows

See also: Tromp, Marlene, Kathryn Valerius, and Rosemarie Garland-Thomson. Victorian Freaks: The Social Context of Freakery in Britain. Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 2008. http://search.ebscohost.com.libproxy.uncg.edu/login.aspx?direct=true&db=mzh&AN=2009420224&site=ehost-live.

Contemporary Connections

The macabre attraction of freak shows has been featured in a number of contemporary forms of entertainment including a movie entitled Freak Show (2017) and a season on the television anthology American Horror Story (2014-2015).

[1] Selection from The Festival of the Freaks entitled “Song of the Side-Showman”

[2] According to Mirriam-Webster, fistic describes a move related to boxing.

[3] Footnote from Carleton: “‘Hey Reub!’ is the show-man’s war-cry; and he is bound in honor to rush to the support of any of his comrades who by this means indicates that he is engaged in pugilistic conflict with some member of the general public.” Rube is another common spelling of this term.

[4] According to the freedictionary.com,”took a shy” is slang for throwing something “with a swift motion.” In this context, we can assume that he threw a punch.

[5] Eggs are a common source of protein during the Christian holiday of Lent, when many abstain from eating red meat.

Categories
1890s Poem

Cat’s-Cradle

Cat’s-Cradle

By Mary Mapes Dodge
Annotations by Maggie Kelly/JB
Gustav A. Liebig, Jr. Patapsco River Valley: Cascade picnic. Two young women playing a game of cat’s cradle. Three young boys in the background. Photograph c. 1886-1897, Archives of American Gardens, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

“It’s criss-cross high, and it’s criss-cross flat; [1]
Then four straight lines for the pussy cat;
Then criss-cross under; ah, now there’ll be
A nice deep cradle, dear Grandpa! See!

“Now change again, and it’s flat once more—
A lattice-window! But where’s the door?
Why, change once more, and, holding it so,
We can have a very good door, you know.

“Now over, now under, now pull it tight;
See-saw, Grandpa!—exactly right!”
So prattled the little one, Grandfather’s pet,
As deftly she wrought. “See, now it’s a net!

“But where did you learn cat’s-cradle so well?”
She suddenly asked; and he could not tell.
He could not tell, for his heart was sore,
As he gravely said, “I have played it before.”

What could the sweet little maiden know
Of beautiful summers long ago?
Of the merry sports, and the games he played,
When “Mama,” herself, was a little maid?

What could she know of the thoughts that ran
Through the weary brain of the world-worn man?
But she knew, when she kissed him, dear Grandpa smiled,
And that was enough for the happy child.

Dodge, Mary Mapes. “Cat’s-cradle,” IN When life is young: a collection of verse for boys and girls, 134-35. The Century Co., 1894.

[1] Cat’s cradle is a game played by threading yarn or string between your hands to create various patterns.

Contexts

String figure games such as cat’s cradle seem to have developed independently throughout many cultures. As Meredith Osmond states in an article about the lexical development of the game’s name, “String figure games, collectively known as cat’s cradle, were played in traditional societies across the world long before recorded time. They have been recorded on every inhabited continent.”

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

Here’s a video about the basic form of the game for two people:

Categories
1880s 1890s Letters/Correspondence

Two Letters of Helen Keller

Helen Adams Keller

Two Letters of Helen Keller[1]

By Helen Keller
Annotations by Celia Hawley
Charles Whitman. Helen Adams Keller. Platinum print, 1904, National Portrait Gallery,
Washington, D.C. 
TO MR. WILLIAM WADE
  South Boston, Mass., Nov. 20, 1889.

  My Dear Mr. Wade:—I have just received a letter from my mother,
  telling me that the beautiful mastiff puppy you sent me had
  arrived in Tuscumbia safely.[2] Thank you very much for the nice
  gift. I am very sorry that I was not at home to welcome her; but
  my mother and my baby sister will be very kind to her while her
  mistress is away. I hope she is not lonely and unhappy. I think
  puppies can feel very home-sick, as well as little girls. I
  should like to call her Lioness, for your dog. May I? I hope she
  will be very faithful,—and brave, too.                                    
                                         
  I am studying in Boston, with my dear teacher. I learn a great
  many new and wonderful things. I study about the earth, and the
  animals, and I like arithmetic exceedingly. I learn many new
  words, too. EXCEEDINGLY is one that I learned yesterday. When I
  see Lioness I will tell her many things which will surprise her
  greatly. I think she will laugh when I tell her she is a
  vertebrate, a mammal, a quadruped; and I shall be very sorry to
  tell her that she belongs to the order Carnivora. I study French,
  too. When I talk French to Lioness I will call her mon beau
  chien. Please tell Lion that I will take good care of Lioness. I
  shall be happy to have a letter from you when you like to write
  to me.

  From your loving little friend,
  HELEN A. KELLER.

  P.S. I am studying at the Institution for the Blind.

  H. A. K. [3]
TO  DR. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
  South Boston, Mass., April, 1891

  Dear Dr. Holmes:—Your beautiful words about spring have been
  making music in my heart, these bright April days. I love every
  word of "Spring" and "Spring Has Come." I think you will be glad
  to hear that these poems have taught me to enjoy and love the
  beautiful springtime, even though I cannot see the fair, frail
  blossoms which proclaim its approach, or hear the joyous warbling
  of the home-coming birds. But when I read "Spring Has Come," lo!
  I am not blind any longer, for I see with your eyes and hear with
  your ears. Sweet Mother Nature can have no secrets from me when
  my poet is near. I have chosen this paper because I want the
  spray of violets in the corner to tell you of my grateful love. I
  want you to see baby Tom, the little blind and deaf and dumb
  child who has just come to our pretty garden. He is poor and
  helpless and lonely now, but before another April education will
  have brought light and gladness into Tommy's life. If you do
  come, you will want to ask the kind people of Boston to help
  brighten Tommy's whole life. Your loving friend,
  HELEN KELLER.
Keller, Helen. “to mr. William Wade,” “To Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes.” Personal correspondence, Courtesy American Federation for the blind.

[1] Helen was only 9 and 11 years old, respectively, when she wrote these letters. Newspapers in America and Europe had already celebrated her, and she had met a number of well-known people of the period. At the age of eight, she visited President Grover Cleveland at the White House. (See Helen Keller: Selected Writings)

[2] Tuscumbia, Alabama is Helen Keller’s birthplace. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, it is also the location of the Alabama Music Hall of Fame.

[3] Helen wrote this correspondence by hand. She learned to write using paper with a grooved board behind it, an arduous and time-consuming process. Having learned her first letters and words through manual finger positions, she would eventually learn and have access to standard Braille, a system not adopted in the U.S. until 1918. (See Helen Keller: Selected Writings)

Contexts

Helen was born with both sight and hearing, as detailed in the Helen Keller Biography. She and her teacher, Anne Sullivan, were lifelong companions. Anne’s life was alsofull of challenges to overcome. Born in 1866 to a family who left Ireland due to the Great Famine, Anne contracted a chronic eye disease at age five. She and her brother Jimmy were abandoned to a poor house as children after their mother’s death, and her admittance to the Perkins Institute changed her life.

Resources for Further Study
Contemporary Connections

The Perkins School for the Blind in Watertown, Massachusetts, is the oldest school for the blind in the U.S. The school now uses the Expanded Core Curriculum (ECC), a disability-specific set of skills that focuses on many avenues to independence.

Categories
1860s 1890s 1910s Fable Short Story

The Belly and the Members

The Belly and the Members: A Fable [1]

By Æsop
Annotations by Ian McLaughlin
Wenceslaus Hollar. The Belly and the Members. Engraving from The Fables of Aesop
by John Ogilby, 1665. Fisher Library at the University of Toronto, Toronto, ON, Canada.

The Members of the Body once rebelled against the Belly. “You,” they said to the Belly, “live in luxury and sloth, and never do a stroke of work; while we not only have to do all the hard work there is to be done, but are actually your slaves and have to minister to all your wants. Now, we will do so no longer, and you can shift for yourself for the future.” They were as good as their word, and left the Belly to starve. The result was just what might have been expected: the whole Body soon began to fail, and the Members and all shared in the general collapse. And then they saw too late how foolish they had been.

Original illustration from Aesop’s Fables printed at the Chiswick Press by C. Whittingham, 1814.

In the former days, when the Belly and the other parts of the body enjoyed the faculty of speech, and had separate views and designs of their own, each part, it seems, in particular for himself and in the name of the whole, took exception at the conduct of the Belly, and were resolved to grant him supplies no longer.

They said they thought is very hard that he should lead an idle good-for-nothing life, spending and squandering away, upon his own ungodly guts, all the fruits of their labor; and that, in short, they were resolved, for the future, to strike off his allowance, and let him shift for himself as well as he could. The Hands protested they would not lift up a finger to keep him from starving; and the Mouth wished he might never speak again if he took in the least bit of nourishment for him as long as he lived; and, say the Teeth, may we be rotten if ever we chew a morsel for him for the future. This solemn league and covenant was kept as long as anything of that kind can be kept, which was until each of the rebel members pined away to the skin and bone, and could hold out no longer. Then they found there was no doing without the Belly, and that, as idle and insignificant as he seemed, he contributed as much to the maintenance and welfare of all the other parts as they did to his.

Application

This fable was spoken by Menenius Agrippa, a famous Roman consul and general, when he was deputed by the senate to appease a dangerous tumult and insurrection of the people. The many wars that nation was engaged in, and the frequent supplies they were obliged to raise, had so soured and inflamed the minds of the populace, that they were resolved to endure it no longer, and obstinately refused to pay the taxes which were levied upon them. It is easy to discern how the great man applied this fable. For, if the branches and members of a community refuse the government that aid which its necessities require, the whole must perish together. The rulers of a State, as idle and insignificant as they may sometimes seem are yet as necessary to be kept up and maintained in a proper and decent grandeur, as the family of each private person is in a condition suitable to itself. Every man’s enjoyment of that little which he gains by his daily labor depends upon the government’s being maintained in a condition to defend and secure him in it.

Menenius Agrippa, a Roman consul, being deputed by the senate to appease a dangerous tumult and sedition of the people, who refused to pay the taxes necessary for carrying on the business of the state, convinced them of their folly by delivering to them the following fable.

My friends and countrymen, said he, attend to my words. It once happened that the members of the human body, taking some exception at the conduct of the Belly, resolved no longer to grant him the usual supplies. The Tongue first, in a seditious speech, aggravated their grievances; and after highly extolling the activity and diligence of the Hands and Feet, set forth how hard and unreasonable it was that the fruits of their labor should be squandered away upon the insatiable cravings of a fat and indolent paunch, which was entirely useless, and unable to do anything towards helping himself.

Original illustration from Aesops Fables, Together with the Life of Aesop by Mons. De Meziriac, 1897.

This speech was received with unanimous applause by all the members. Immediately the Hands declared they would work no more; the Feet determined to carry no farther the load with which they had hitherto been oppressed; nay, the very Teeth refused to prepare a single morsel more for his use. In this distress the Belly besought them to consider maturely, and not foment so senseless a rebellion. There is none of you, says he, but may be sensible that whatsoever you bestow upon me is immediately converted to your sue, and dispersed by me for the good of you all into every limb. But he remonstrated in vain; for during the clamors of passion the voice of reason is always unregarded. It being therefore impossible for him to quiet the tumult, he was starved for want of their assistance, and the body wasted away to a skeleton. The Limbs, grown weak and languid, were sensible at last of their error, and would fain have returned to their respective duty, but it was now too late; death had taken possession of the whole, and they all perished together.

We should well consider, whether the removal of a present evil does not tend to produce a greater.

Æsop. “The belly and the members,” in Aesop’s FAbles, Translated by V. S. Vernon Jones. New York: AVenel books, 1912. www.gutenberg.org/files/11339/11339-h/11339-h.htm

Æsop. “The belly and the members,” inThe Fables of Æsop With a Life of the Author, 175. New York: Hurd and Houghton, 1868. https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b000938579&view=1up&seq=197.
Aesop. “The belly and the members,” in Aesop’s Fables: Together With the Life of Aesop, by Mons. de meziriac, 51. Chicago: The Henneberry Company, 1897. https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015005534220&view=1up&seq=53.

[1] Because this fable is short and has many translations, I’ve included three versions.

Contexts

Æsop is likely the most famous fabulist of all time. His stories have been used to teach children the values of many cultures over many centuries. Many famous children’s stories, such as “The Tortoise and the Hare“, “City Mouse and Country Mouse“, and “The Lion and the Mouse” are based on his work.

Resources for Further Study
  • For more information on what makes a story a fable, see this introduction to the text by G.K. Chesterton.
Contemporary Connections

There are countless picture books and anthologies based on Æsop’s works. The Library of Congress has turned “The Aesop for Children: with Pictures” by Milo Winter (1919) into an interactive ebook.

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