Eighteen of these children of
the forest, who had been down to New York to sell toys and ornaments,
which they manufacture in the winter, were on their return home, and
were encamped outside the village during Sunday.
They showed little of
the costume of their tribe, or rather, I suppose I should say, want of
costume; one man wearing a pair of red plush breeches, and some of the
women having bonnets. Still there were the features, the attitudes, and
the language of the aborigines. We visited their camp at night, a
collection of gipsy-like tents, and conversed with one or two of them,
which led others to steal out and listen. I say steal out, for it was
only upon turning round, that I became aware that we were suddenly
almost surrounded. One man spoke very good English. He said they were
Oneidas, or as he pronounced it 'Onidehs,' and were going back to their
country, where they would remain with their tribe, about two hundred
and eighty of whom were left, till next year, and then come down again.
"On Sunday evening I witnessed another and a very different spectacle.
A Methodist preacher came into the village in a little four-wheeled
car, with a square black hood over it, and preached from his car, on
what is termed by the common voice 'Nigger abolition.' He was
accompanied by a young woman and a very pretty little child, who both
sat behind him.
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