In the year 1877, Col. Robert G. Ingersoll made an extended
tour of the Pacific coast. He spoke in several of the larger
cities, and at length arrived at Portland. There was in the
city a certain missionary to the Chinooks. He could not afford
a ticket to the lecture, and was greatly disturbed at what he
read concerning it. Yet he felt a strong desire to meet Colonel
Ingersoll, and a common friend procured a meeting between them.
There was a moment of restraint, relieved by the greater ease
of Colonel Ingersoll, who began the conversation by inquiring
concerning the work of the missionary. A little mirthfully he
questioned him about the advisability of exporting religion,
of which there might not be any surplus at home, and inquired,
somewhat doubtfully, about the wisdom of a man giving his life
to a hopeless task in attempting to teach a small and vanishing
tribe things of which we ourselves have perhaps less knowledge
than we suppose.
The answers of the missionary, however, interested Colonel
Ingersoll. He inquired about the “Chinook jargon,” that mongrel
speech, made of English, Canadian French, Chinook and other
Indian words, picked up from several tribes, and all softened
and modified to suit deficiencies of pronunciation; the _r_
changed into _l_, after the Chinese manner, and the grammar
“made by chopping up words with a tomahawk.”
How could a man preach in a language where one word had to serve
as noun, verb and adjective? How could a man of education make
himself understood in a language with only four parts of speech
and some fragments? How could he tell the story of Peter’s
denial in a language which, having only one word for all manner
of feathered things, and no verb for the act of crowing, made
it necessary for the speaker to imitate the act and sound? How
could he tell that Peter swore, in a language that had no verb
“to curse,” but had plenty of oaths inherited from traders in
various tongues? How could he impart any idea of sacred things
in a polyglot of slang?
The missionary told him the story of his work--how he preached
as best he could in the poor, meager speech of the people,
meantime teaching the children English, encouraging them in
useful arts, fighting the vices of civilization as they made
inroads among the people, and doing what he could for them as
adviser and friend. It was hard work, and not very encouraging,
but it was worth doing, and he was happy in it.
In telling his story thus, encouraged and led on by a man
trained and skilful in cross-examination, the missionary
unconsciously disclosed many of the hardships and privations
which his work entailed upon him. Possibly, and indeed probably,
he had not thought of them seriously as hardships, and therefore
he related with telling simplicity the stories of long journeys
by canoe and on horseback, of nights in the open, of poor and
sometimes revolting food eaten in savage company. There was no
word of complaint, nor even the least expression of regret,
except for books and papers and magazines missed.
When the missionary rose to go, Colonel Ingersoll took his
hand warmly, and said, “I thank you for coming to see me. This
interests me very much. It’s good work you are doing, it’s good
work. And here, take this. I am not a frequent contributor to
missionary work, but I like this.”
Into the missionary’s hand he dropt a bright twenty-dollar gold
piece.--_Youth’s Companion._
(160)
=Atmosphere=--See IMPURITIES.
=Atmosphere, City=--See TESTS.
=Atmosphere, The, and Light=--See LIGHT-BEARERS.
=Atmosphere, The Christian=--See HOSPITALITY IN CHURCH.