I did a great deal of talking that Sunday; not willingly, but on being introduced to the people as they came around to see me, nothing was left but to discuss in full the question of opening. It was an ox in the mire. Well, Monday came. The horn once more resounded through the woods. The people gathered from far and near. The chairman was elected, and, on stating the object of the meeting, took occasion to show them the impracticability of opening before the first of July. “There,” thought I, “whipped again. The chair is against me.” I arose and spoke ten minutes. On taking my seat, one opposed to me spoke. Among other things, he said: “Too many rascals are out from school, anyhow.” Here one would rise on my side; there one on the other side. Every man, including myself, seemed to do his best to talk loud enough. The chairman showed weakness in presiding, and was lacking in a knowledge of parliamentary usage. Thought I, “here is my chance.” Every time he blundered I arose and pointed out his error; showed him how to appoint his committees, and instructed him as to what motions took precedence. He saw my object, and informed me openly that he had participated in conventions in Helena. “It makes no difference,” said I; “you are wrong in your ruling.” He began to look pitiful in the eyes of all. Men began to leave the room. Soon one-half of them were on the outside. The tide was turned. I went out to inquire more fully into matters. Nearly every man was now for me. “Then, come in,” said I; “you can’t help me out here.” I remained behind to see that all came. The previous question, namely, to open the school on the first of June, was called. All stood up in the affirmative except the man who had seen the “rascals.” I had won through the chairman’s ignorance. I have often thought of it since, and see more fully every day that most battles are lost or won through incompetency on one side and superiority on the other, and that knowledge is truly a power. I will add that Jack Davis was my best friend after opening that school, and Dick Brown, whom I met plowing on going from Aunt Daffney’s house, carried my trunk a quarter of a mile for nothing, and loaned me his watch while I taught there. On going away, the man who was so afraid of the “rascals” came four miles to my house and carried my trunk thirteen miles to Hope—all for nothing. The crop turned out well. I gained twenty pounds, and, in a word, we were all happy. THE INDIANS. * * * * * SPEECH OF AN INDIAN CHIEF. At a Fourth of July celebration held at Lidgerwood, Dakota, a novel feature of the exercises was a speech by Magayohi (Chief Star), in the Sioux dialect, which being translated reads as follows, and which shows that if all the Sioux Indians were as intelligent and as well disposed as this chief, the Government Commission would have little trouble.