The Chemawa American, October 20, 1926, Page 4, Image 4

PAGE 4
THE CHEMAWA AMERICAN
THE LITTLE DIPPER
The following interesting Indian legend was written
by Elmer Logan as a part of his English course:
In a small and dingy little hut lived a very selfish
Indian mother. Her most prized possessions were her
six sons. Across the way lived a very lonely family
consisting of only two, a mother and an only son.
They were very happy. Every joy and sorrow of one
was a joy or sorrow for the other.
Since early childhood the seven boys had romped
and played together. One of their favorite pastimes
was to sing and dance together. Unfortunately the
homes of these children were near the edge of a high
and dangerous cliff. It happened that in one of their
happy moments when they were singing and dancing
the only son danced too close to the edge of the cliff and
fell to his death.
This death was to the mother as the pain of a dagger
thrust into the bosom of an innocent soul. This boy,
who was once so bright and happy and was the sun­
shine of her life, was gone and the home and whole
world was dark and gloomy. The earth held his body,
and the memory of him clung throughout life and was
only broken by death. The Indians believed that
when one of their tribe died a new star shone in the
sky and so long as you could see the star made by the
passing soul, that the soul lived and took on new light
as other friendly soul-stars went to the sky and gave
it added aud reflected light. This is why some stars
are brighter than others.
In the evening twilight, crouched by the door of
their hut, the mother of the six sons reviewed the story
of the accident that to another home brought so much
sorrow and grief, but her heart was filled with hap­
piness to know that it was not one of her sons. Joy
of an untold nature clutched her and little did she
believe that the future held misfortune for her family.
She did not realize that the Great Spirit that has so
often caused disaster was sorrowing that her heart was
so hard as not to mourn for her neighbor in sorrow.
The Great Spirit decided to show this mother what
sorrow was and how the sorrowful mother felt.
The next evening, when the mother looked upon
the world that held nothing but happiness for her. as
she thought, the mother watched her six sons dance
joyfully about. Suddenly they appeared to become
happier, their song sweeter and clearer and their feet,
a fleeting mass of buckskin and beads, began to move
in perfect unison; their pine torches glimmered, and
the Great Spirit lifted them as smoke rises into the air,
higher, higher, and higher, until only their torches
could be seen among the millions of stars.
The selfish mother now realized the sorrow that can
befall a happy family. She saw the things she so loved
go high into the sky. She looked at them until the
Great Spirit was sorry for her, and lifted her as he had
lifted the boys into the sky.
To this day you can see them. Some call them the
Little Dipper, but they are really not stars, they are
the torches of the dancing boys. They are not big and
beautiful stars, for their mother brought little love
light to them at her coming.
THE INDIFFERENT PUPIL
The problem of the ages seems to be the indifferent
pupil. By this we mean the boy or girl who refuses
to take his or her schooldays seriously; one who re­
fuses absolutely to make an effort to accomplish any­
thing worth while. Often appeals to them are vain,
for they laugh in “their sleeves” when the appeal is
made. They seem to be lacking in that inherent
manhood or womanhood to which an appeal can be
made. When the age of, say 15 years, is attained a
boy or girl, if normal, should begin to show pride
enough in self to desire to be rated as a man or wo­
man. If they do not, there is something wrong.
What is it? Where there is ordinary intelligence,
where lies the trouble?
Good and ambitious men and women who have the
instruction and supervision of young people are sorely
tried by the miscarriage of their labors in behalf of
such pupils. We came near to calling them “stu­
dents,” but they are not, for the very name of “stu­
dent” implies that there is studious and concentrated
application present. Observation rather inclines us
to believe that bad association has much to do with a
lack of serious purpose which in time becomes down­
right indifference. A small coterie of indifferent boys
or girls soon becomes a large body unless something
is done to set them right, and “setting them right”
sometimes requires heroic measures, as it seems that
nothing short of an earthquake or a tornado will make
an impression. There is no-one so hopeless as the
person who assumes in his ignorance and egotism that
is it up to him to be a buffoon. It seems that we al­
ways have a few of the specie with ns.
The foregoing gives some idea of how right-minded
people see the “indifferent” pupil and what a prob­
lem the latter presents. Now let us take a look at
his opposite—the wide-awake youngster: To one
who is instinctively a teacher it is a positive joy to un­
dertake the direction of an eager, open-minded and
willing-to-work boy or girl. There is no driving
needed; there is no anxiety over results. Grades, good
ones, too, are certain. The teacher is inspired to
give his best by the eagerness evidenced by the stu­
dent, and the latter is a credit to himself and teacher.
There is no greater responsibility in life than the edu­
cation of youth, and no greater joy possible than is
afforded by the knowledge that the student is worth
while. Our students should visualize these truths.