Motanic Bad Indian No More

1908

Cayuse Chief Becomes a Christian — Makes Dramatic Confession

Spokane, Washington. — Motanic, bad Indian, terror of the Umatilla reservation southwest of Spokane and leader of pagan customs among the Cayuse braves, has embraced the Christian religion, and, as a consequence, there is rejoicing among the faithful in the Tutilla Presbyterian mission. The conversion of the chieftain was the dramatic climax to the ordination of Rev. Edward Conner, a full-blooded Cayuse, as minister of the gospel a few days ago.

Following the singing of the Cayuse version of "Washed in the Blood of the Lamb," in which braves and squaws joined heartily, Motanic, dressed in barbaric splendor, arose from his seat and, facing the congregation, declared his intention to live a better life. He vowed he would abandon the pagan customs, bid goodbye forever to the feathered headdress and the red and orange paint, to participate no more in the festal parades nor partake of the white man's firewater. He would not steal, gamble or cheat his fellow man or brother. Motanic had become a Christian. It was a fitting close to the ordination of Conner.

At the conclusion of the services which made Conner a full-fledged minister of the gospel there was stillness. Motanic walked to the front of the altar. Tears streamed down his weather-bronzed cheeks and his big frame shook with sobs. He looked neither to the right nor to the left. Motanic confessed his sins to the world and swore allegiance to a new king.

Suddenly a glad note burst from the throat of a little brown woman in the corner. It was the signal for a spontaneous outburst of song from the Indian congregation. Then his faithful squaw went home with the chief.

No Tango at White House

1914

But Circumstances Obviate Necessity of the President Ruling

Washington, Jan. 15. — President Wilson apparently is awaiting the verdict of clericals on both sides of the water who are investigating the tango before placing the stamp of his approval or his ban upon this and kindred dances.

All Washington — or at least the major portion of the national capital's society which attended President Wilson's reception to the diplomatic corps, is discussing the manner in which the president evaded the question of whether to tango or not to tango?

When the crowd thinned out, toward midnight, the younger set, who had come to the executive mansion with the expectation of indulging in a modest "hesitation" or tango, waited for the Marine Band to begin the syncopated melodies appropriate for these dances. Marches and Viennese waltzes seemed to be the only music the band could play, and the word was soon passed that the President and Mrs. Wilson thought it best not to have any dancing at this, their first reception.

Salvation Army's General Booth in Washington

1903

General Booth, the Salvation Army leader, cracked a few jokes with statesmen while he was in Washington. Senator Frye said to him; "When I was in London I was much interested in your organization. In fact I thought of Joining." "Better not," said the general; "you would not submit to our discipline." Senator Alger said he understood Hanna intended to join. "Ah, I should make him chancellor of the exchequer," was the revivalist's reply. Senator Hoar was introduced jocularly as "the worst man in the senate." "That's good," said the general, heartily. "I want to meet all kinds. The bad I want to help and the good I want to help me."