olently to gain;
and now after all that eternal striving since the beginning of
time--what has been the great outstanding gain--as the Indian sees it?
"Baldness and starched underwear for men, high-heeled shoes and corsets
for women, and for both--spectacles and false teeth." Is it any wonder
the red man laughs?

But some of you will doubt that the Indian laughs, and more of you will
even doubt whether the red man possesses a sense of humour. A few days
ago my Toronto oculist--you see I have been justly rewarded for
hovering around civilization--and I were discussing Indians. The
doctor quoted his experience with them. Some years before he had taken
a trip into the forest where he had met an old Indian chief whose wife
had had her eye injured by accident. The doctor told the old man if
ever he contemplated taking his wife to Toronto, to let the doctor know
of their coming, and he would see what he could do to repair the
injury. A year or so later a letter arrived from the very same Indian
reservation. Though it was hard to read, the doctor made out that the
Indian intended to bring his wife to Toronto so that the oculist could
fulfil his promise; but as luck would have it, the doctor had not only
forgotten the Indian's name, but he had great difficulty in reading the
signature. After much study, however, he decided that the old Indian
had signed his name as "Chief Squirrel" so thus the doctor addressed
his reply. A couple of weeks later the postman arrived with a letter
he was rather loath to leave at the doctor's house. The oculist,
however, on seeing that it was addressed to his own number on Bloor
Street West, and that the name was preceded by the title of Doctor,
believed that it was intended for him. On opening it he found it was
from the old Indian whom he had addressed as "Chief Squirrel." Now,
however, he realized he had made a mistake in giving the red man such a
name, for another glance at the outside of the envelope not only proved
that the Indian was indignant, but that he also possessed a sense of
humour, for "Chief Squirrel" had, in return, addressed the noted
oculist as "Doctor Chipmunk."

While spending a couple of days at Tastowich's house the subject of
hunting was never long omitted from the general conversation; and upon
learning from the half-breed that caribou were plentiful about a day's
travel to the westward, nothing would do but Oo-koo-hoo must take that
route on his return home;