sionary Peter Jones' Journal of a Rice Lake Indian family of the name of "Jack"-one Captain Jack, his wife and MARY JACK, their daughter. It occurs to the writer that the daughter MARY, maybe the heroine of the island, and the true Christian name has been changed by the settlers of that day to "Polly." The name "Cow" possibly owed its origin to the Indian custom of bestowing the familiar name of some animal or object that was first seen or noticed by the child or her friends at her birth. In this way many original names are lost, and a second one given and retained. The only Indian person who could have given the writer the facts of the Indian girl's birth and true name is dead-that was "John Rice Lake," the last of the old Indians of Rice Lake. The rest of Polly Cow's history I gleaned by degrees as follows, chiefly from my old Irish friend of the Locks. I think I hear some one say: what possible interest can any one take in the history of an ignorant Indian girl, and her heathen lover. The human heart is the same, whether it beats in the fair breast of the cultivated European or in that of the simple, uncultured dark-skinned Indian of the western wilderness. The Indian brave or hunter-we will call him "Red Cloud "—who came from some distant encampment to the wigwam at Stony Lake, had won the heart of the pretty young daughter of Handsome Jack, and was favorably received by the parents at first. Marriage is, or was, an affair settled between the suitor and the elders of the house, or tribe—a sort of bargain, in which some equivalent is expected from the would-be bridegroom. The bride is passive in the affair. In this instance the daughter was only too willing to leave father, mother, and the companions of her childhood, to become the bride of "Red Cloud," the young hunter, whose manly attractions had won her heart. It might be she had seen him on some special occasion in all the imposing war-dress of his tribe, with the head-dress of feathers, the embroidered tunic and scarf, the fire bag at his girdle, and all the ensignia of the Indian hunter; the tomahawk, the scalping knife and the rifle at his side, or had gazed with womanly taste and longing eye at the string of shells, or antique brooch which clasped the hunting shirt of finely dressed doe-skin he wore. child, for the pride of being the chosen one, she would have joyfully become his willing and devoted slave-and he her idol-but she loved too well but not wisely. Poor The father, whose expectations had been disappointed by the want of liberality in the suitor, drew back and coldly declined to close the bargain for the hand of his daughter, in spite of the pleading looks and even tears of his child, so the treaty ended, and the offended young brave, "Red Cloud," departed, never again to claim his weeping, would-be bride. Alas for human love and human woe! Possibly Red Cloud satisfied himself with the thought that Polly was too young, and that it would be more to his interest to choose a squaw stronger of frame, one who could be more helpful in building the lodge, raising the poles of his wigwam, building the birch canoe, and dressing the skins of the animals he trapped or killed in the chase. Thus he argued as he haughtily strode from the camp-never again to return. Broken-hearted, the poor girl-she was but a child in years, in guileless, simple faith-pined in secret and in silence over disappointed hopes, "Too fondly nursed, Too rudely crost.' Paler and paler grew her cheek; the long tresses of her ebon hair were no longer braided and adorned with the gay feathers of the war-bird (scarlet tanager), with the flaming breast of the oriole, or glossy green crest of the woodchuck. No garlands of oak leaves were wound around her slender waist; all roughly now hung the dark locks of hair over her brow, as if trying to hide the hopeless look of despair in the sad, ever downcast eyes; she cast all bright things from her sight, she hated the light. "She sits in silence and she weeps alone, Pale as a hunter's day, her hope is gone." The trembling hands, the hollow cough, told soon its tale to those who had so often noted the glad look of the youthful face, and the laugh and smile which she had ever given as a kindly greeting to the young lads and lasses when they came to the wigwam, or when they met her in the clearings. Poor girl, she shrunk from all notice, she kept aloof from all. "She could not bear the look of scorn, Nor pity's eye more dreary." "How came the Indian girl to be buried on this little island?" we asked of the kind-hearted Irishman from the locks. her illness, and wished, so it was said, to be buried there, and there she was buried." 'I was a young lad at the time; now I am far on in my eighties," he added, "I helped my brother to make the coffin for her, and it was a sad, strange sight, that burial; the canoes of her people were all lighted with torches, for it was at night they took her to the burial, and then they put out the lighted brands and raised the death cry "Ah-wo-nomin!' peated over and over again, till the lone dark woods and waters gave back the wild, mournful sound. 66 re Was there no kindly christian prayer spoken for that poor girl's soul?" Polly was but an Indian haythen. "No, madam, no, I think not. Poor kindly hand has spread a verdant Over that lowly grave nature with pall. A native vine now wreathes the spot of earth which covers the remains of the poor Indian maiden, remembered only by one aged kindly heart who knew her in her youth. Even her Indian name is unknown. No one of her people lives to record it. He said, "She used to go there during Such is life. Lines by Hampden Burnham on the death of the Indian girl, Polly Cow. Hark! While the linnet sings in yonder tree o'erhead Wake her sweet spirit, in the forest dim That sleeping dreams, and ever dreams of him BY M. A. LEITH WRIGHT. THE subject of Embroidery, or Decorative Needlework, treated as an art, opens up a field so limitless, both in the past and present, perhaps, also, in the future, that one feels it hopeless in a single paper to do more than touch on some of its more salient features, and consider some of the practical applications of it which are being made at the present moment. The wide catholicity of the styles now practised and taught in the different schools of embroidery, and the numerous decorative societies, both in Europe and America, as well as the very marked originality displayed by some of them, seems to form our strongest ground for believing that the revival of the ancient but almost entirely extinct art of Decorative Needlework, may have come to stay with us; and, of course, under ever-varying conditions, influence the work of our women for at least some time to come. Of set purpose, I avoid the use of that much enduring and long-suffering term, Art Needlework, always spelled with a large A, and often so sadly misapplied; sounding in our ears, till we have grown weary, and fain to take up hemming dusters instead. When I speak of this craft as having been totally lost for some centuries, I only mean, of course, as far as Great Britain is concerned: ecclesiastical embroidery, at least, having always existed in continental countries, as well as the domestic and national work of each country, among its peasantry. Decorative Needlework contains within itself all the necessary elements of art and as one of the tangible expressions of the Science of Beauty, it is strictly subject to all the laws which govern that science, whether of color, harmony, proportion or composition-just as painting and sculpture are. We may possibly only be allowed to claim for it a secondary place as regards these sister arts, but certainly our ground is sure when we claim for it an antiquity beyond theirs. Time with us is too short in these fin-de-siècle days, life is too hurried and densely crowded, to allow us to spend time, labor, and money as lavishly as they did in the old days on this art, which is a craft as well. Whether our work is done merely for pleasure and relaxation, or for money, needs must be that we study the quickest, most effective ways of working out our ideas, so as to obtain the best possible effect with the fewest number of stitches-a proceeding, however, apt to prove disastrous without the needful training of the eye and the skill of a practised hand and not in any way to be identified with haste or careless stitchery. Some great authorities of the day do not, however, approve of this concession to the spirit of the age; notably, Mr. William Morris, in whose work-rooms the most wonderful and lovely wall-hangings, and other large pieces of embroidery, are executed, under the direction of a well-known lady; pieces, of which the whole ground is worked in the finest cushion stitch, in silk, so that not a thread of the material worked on is shown. The effect is very beautiful, and much more real and lasting than a woven tapestry-but the stitches used, varieties of the ancient Opus Pulvinarium, are so close and regular that even a practised hand can only do a few square inches in a day. Of course, the cost of production is, therefore, very great; one piece of Mr. Morris' designing, which was worked at the Royal School of Art Needlework, South Kensington, is valued at fifty pounds sterling the square yard, and was ordered by the Hon. Mrs. Wyndham, for a bed hanging. Last year, however, Mr. Morris' daughter made a somewhat new departure, and showed at the Arts and Crafts Exhibition in London a coverlet of hand-woven linen, on which she had worked one of her father's poems, in brown crewel, with beautiful scroll work and borders of her own design. Among the innumerable uses now found for original designs and embroidery, coverlets, or bed-quilts, are very popular now, as they have ever been-lending themselves, as they do, to almost any kind of fabric and any style of work-from the rich white satin, heavy with gold embroidery, in solid carpet-stitch. after the Spanish manner, worked at the before-mentioned Royal School, for the Countess of Brownlow, to the homely workhouse sheeting one, with lovely natural honeysuckle in crewels, which H.R.H. Princess Henry of Battenberg, worked for herself, to match her bedroom curtains, which were of the same materials and design. This fashion of coverlets was gaining favor in Chicago last winter, where I saw some very fine all over designs being prepared for ladies' own working by the Society of Decorative Art there. Screens, also, either draught, or for fire-places, or the small table ones, show off good work and designs effectively, besides being extremely useful. Generally speaking, pieces of work which call in the aid of an artistic cabinet-maker to mount them prove by far the most satisfactory, retaining their beauty and freshness to an indefinite time-I mean screens, panels for cabinets, fronts for pianos, and other things which suggest themselves easily and even work not in tended for mounting, such as heavy table covers, portières, couvrettes, and curtains of all kinds, which last much longer when treated professionally, after the embroideress has done her part. Space will not allow me to treat at length, as I should like to do, the beautiful effects we may obtain in cut work, or appliqué, as it is usually called, the old Opus Concutum, either inlaid or onlaid. All the most costly articles can be pressed into the service of this branch of decorating: and for curtains, table, and billiardtable covers and hangings, the richest effects are obtained with comparatively little work, and that of a very fascinating and amusing kind. Velvet on silk or cloth, in some rich design of the Renaissance, or of the more severe modern Gothic, with outlines of heavy gold cord, and worked up with gold thread, or pacsing, as it is called; or else couched in silk, and partly embroidered, will yield results, in the hands of one who loves color and harmony, far in excess of the labor or time expended. Church needlework includes all this, and very much more, bringing into use all the ancient gold and couching stitches which make the 14th and 15th century vestments such mines of instruction and interest to any worker who is fortunate in having opportunities of studying them, both in England and abroad-all these ancient stitches being used now, as then, in working vestments, frontals, tabernacle curtains, veils, and all else of ecclesiastical use or ornament, down to book-markers and sermon cases. The late Rev. Dr. Rock says, “The art of working with the needle, flowers, fruits, human and animal forms, and other fanciful designs, on woven fabrics, is so old that it reaches far into the pre-historic ages." We are apt to think of Penelope as being a sort of pioneer in this department of civilization; but we find embroidery depicted on Assyrian and Egyptian sculptures, probably ages before she began her rather protracted task of weaving a shroud for her father-in law. But, briefly, the periods of the craft which have most interest for us, date from the time when the Phrygians worked gorgeous vestments for the Romans; from them all embroidery was called Phrygium, and an embroiderer, Phrygis; when the work was in gold, it was called Auriphrygium," hence our word " orph reys. From Italy the art spread all over Europe, reaching its best in England iu the 15th century. The Opus Anglicanum became very famous, and much of it is now to be found all over the continent of Europe, partly from much of it having been sent over for safety at the Reformation; so that, alas! very few specimens are now to be found in its ancient home. The finest and almost perfect piece known is the Syon Cope, now in the South Kensington Museum. childish and grotesque beyond words. If this had happened at the beginning of English art, instead of at the end, it would have been amusing to look at now; but as it is, one finds it rather depressing, as no continental art has ever sunk so low. Then followed tambour work, in imitation of Indian chintzes; and then we lost a glorious opportunity of reviving and bringing a fresh element into our art. The East Indian Company was just formed, the Indian trade was all our own, and we might have brought over skilled embroiderers from India, and founded an IndoEnglish school of decoration, which might have surpassed anything ever known. But a cruel and mistaken policy, instigated chiefly, it is thought, by the jealousy of the Broiderers' Company, not only forbade this, but shut out from England all embroidered stuffs from India, of any kind whatever. Acting on a very different policy, the Portuguese used to send out their own silks and satins, to be embroidered at Goa; hence the treasures of oriental neeedle-work now to be found in Spain and Portugal. By this action on the part of the British Government the death blow seemed to be given to our art in England, and the final downfall was soon followed by the advent of the Berlin wool pattern, which, as we know, had pretty After this period, the decline was much, though not altogether, its own very rapid, degenerating about the way for the best part of a century. reign of James I., into that style of During that time, efforts were made which so many specimens are to be at intervals in a higher direction, with met with in old collections; chiefly only limited success. Early in the caskets and boxes, adorned with am- reign of George III., a school was bitious subjects, scriptural and histori- started at Aylesbury, by a Mrs. Pawcal-the Queen of Sheba and King sey, for teaching ladies to embroider Solomon, perhaps the figures stuffed in crewels and silk, and very beautiinto high relief, with wool or cotton, ful work was done, rather in the dressed scrupulously in the costume of French style. Groups of the school, the existing period, with wigs worked and baskets of flowers, most artistic in silver purl, or a wonderful knotted in design and execution, in crewels stitch-infinite trouble and ingenuity touched up with silk, are to be found wasted on the exquisite lace stitches in many country houses. A magnifion their ruffles, on all the minutiae of cent purple satin bed, embroidered the foregrounds, the whole effect for Queen Charlotte, by Mrs. Paw The beautiful Dunstable Pall, and that one belonging to the Fishmon gers' Company, are grand examples of what is called the Opus Plumarium, or feather stitch; a stitch so old that it is thought that it was used in the hangings of the tabernacle in the wilderness. |