White males prefer to dig within the flooring for his or her meals. My humans like to hunt the buffalo as their fathers did. White males wish to remain in a single position. My humans are looking to flow their tepees right here and there to the various searching grounds. The lifetime of white males is slavery. they're prisoners in cities or farms. The lifestyles my humans wish is a lifetime of freedom. i've got noticeable not anything white guy has, homes or railways or garments or foodstuff, that's nearly as good because the correct to maneuver within the open nation, and stay in our personal model. Why has our blood been shed via your squaddies? (Sitting Bull drew a sq. at the flooring together with his thumb nail. The Indians craned their necks to work out what he used to be doing. ) There! Your squaddies made a mark like that during our nation, and stated that we needs to stay there. They fed us good, and despatched their medical professionals to heal our unwell. They stated that we must always stay with no need to paintings. yet they advised us that we needs to cross purely to this point during this course, and in simple terms thus far in that path. They gave us meat, yet they took away our liberty. The white males had many stuff that we would have liked, yet lets see that they didn't have the single factor we cherished best,—freedom. i'd quite stay in a tepee and move with no meat whilst online game is scarce than surrender my privileges as a unfastened Indian, although i may have all that white males have. We marched around the strains of our reservation, and the warriors us. They attacked our village, and we killed all of them. What might you do in the event that your domestic used to be attacked? you will rise up like a courageous guy and shield it. that's our tale. i've got spoken. resource: James Creelman. at the nice street: The Wanderings and Adventures of a different Correspondent. Boston: Lothrop Publishing corporation, 1901. BRET HARTE For a time, Bret Harte (1836–1902) was once nearly as renowned a author as Mark Twain. Born and raised in long island nation, he won his literary popularity in California, the place he wrote “Western” poetry and plenty of comedian tales. This funny and touching tale happens, notwithstanding, in New England, the japanese shore of his short-story assortment glide from seashores. My buddy, the Tramp (1878) I were sauntering over the clover downs of a definite famous New England seaport. It was once a Sabbath morning, so singularly reposeful and gracious, so replete with the importance of the 7th day of leisure, that even the Sabbath bells ringing a mile away over the salt marshes had little that was once monitory, crucial, or maybe supplicatory of their drowsy voices. particularly they looked as if it would name from their cloudy towers, like a few renegade muezzin: “Sleep is healthier than prayer; sleep on, O sons of the Puritans! shut eye nonetheless, O deacons and vestrymen! permit, oh enable these ft which are speedy to wickedness curl up underneath thee! these fingers which are itching for the shekels of the ungodly lie clasped underneath thy pillow! Sleep is healthier than prayer. ” And, certainly, although it was once excessive morning, sleep was once nonetheless within the air. Wrought upon eventually by means of the mixed affects of sea and sky and surroundings, I succumbed, and lay down on one of many boulders of a bit stony slope that gave upon the ocean.