The noble Son of the Forest is an
amateur in scalps; as some of us are all for old books and others for
old coins. But however much we may respect the enthusiasm of the wild
Rover of the Plains, in making these collections of cranial curiosities,
we feel that the red virtuoso is really going too far--at least we
should feel so, we have no doubt, if he were taking off our own private
scalp, which is a very handsome one, and which we hope to be buried in.
No; the Piegan passion for scalps must be suppressed. But how? Some say
by more whiskey. Some say by less. Some say by none at all. We are for
the more instead of the less. There is whiskey and whiskey. Now our idea
would be to send an unlimited supply of the more deadly variety of that
exhilarating fluid, (highly camphened,) to the convivial Piegans. After
an extensive debauch upon this potent tipple, very few Piegans would be
likely to take the field, either this summer or any other. They would be
Dead Reds, every rascal of them.
* * * * *
Extraordinary Bargains
In
REAL INDIA, CASHMERE AND SUMMER SHAWLS,
Paris and Domestic Made Silk Cloaks,
_Embroidered Breakfast Jackets, in
all Colors,_
CHILDREN'S & MISSES' SACKS,
Ladies' Spring and Summer Suits in SILK,
POPLIN, PONGEES, SERGES, PIQUE,
SWISS LAWN, LINENS, Colored
and Plain CAMBRICS.
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