In 1897, an Eskimo boy was brought to New York, partly because of his unquenchable thirst for novelty and adventure, and also because we had here a good opportunity for studying the effects of outside influence upon primitive innocence. Within a comparatively short period, this lad acquired a good understanding of the English tongue; and, in studies as well as in athletics, he has been considered a match for the average American youth of his age. [Illustration: INUAHO Eskimo girl and dog ] [Illustration: AKATINGWAH Wife of Ooblooyah, with baby ] In their own country, Eskimos care little or nothing about acquiring the use of our language. The fact is, their savage environment and continuous struggle for existence is hardly conducive to learning of any kind, beyond the absolute necessaries. Some of the tribe were taught the use of numerals, the alphabet, and a few easy words; and, parrot-like, these pupils had an embarrassing aptitude for picking up the loose words of the sailors. But as to a common means of communication, their good sense argued that it was much the simpler for us to learn _their_ language. Their vocabulary is composed of many complicated prefixes and suffixes, and roughly speaking, several hundred radicals. Naturally quick-witted, they find no difficulty in expression; and throughout their conversations, the features and the entire body are brought into play. I have often observed the remarkable animation of the eye, the sudden twitching of the mouth, the laggard or the swift movement of the arms and legs, when an Eskimo tells his story. It is thus he excites interest, and the audience is held by the unstudied dramatic effect. Shall we mention it? In the Arctic regions as is the case all over the universe, Woman holds the reputation for loquacity; hers is the “last word.” Churches, schools, and governments are unknown quantities. Yet in every home a perfect system of training goes on for the benefit of the rising generation. At the earliest age an Eskimo lad will be taught the use of his arms in the throwing of a harpoon; a little later he learns the hitching up of dog-teams to sledges; and by the time he has lived twelve winters, he is taken to the walrus hunting ground to learn to be a man. An Eskimo mother loses no time in teaching her daughter the requirements of a good wife. Household duties are as carefully practised (allowing for differences in materials) as in any domestic circle. Sewing is taught by the fond parent, with as much patience as was ever evinced by Griselda. At fourteen or earlier, the young Miss is ripe for marriage.