In like manner the poor Redskin also, as the early colonists called him on account of his color, has ever since been known to the world by the name of distant Ind, which Columbus thought he had reached, when he discovered Hispaniola. Nor has he been allowed to retain even that name long, for already Charles Cotton rhymes the verb "cringes" with " Indies," and thus proves to us that even in his day the poor Indian had to submit to being called Injun, which is now his common name with common people, producing an odd and detestable resemblance in sound between the Indian, the engine, and the onion of New England. Along the frontier line he was perhaps as frequently called a Copperhead, an ancient term of contempt, of which W. Irving makes frequent use in his quaint History of New York. "These were the men," he says, "who vegetated in the mud along the shores of Pavonia, being of the race of genuine copperheads;" and elsewhere: "The Yankees sneeringly spoke of the roundcrowned burghers of the Manhattoes as the Copperheads." In the year 1861, a Mr. Burtt, then Quartermaster in the United States Army, is said to have first applied the term to a class of so-called Anti-War Democrats, Northern sympathizers with the Southern rebellion, though it is not unlikely that in his patriotic zeal he may have rather compared them to the venomous and noisome serpent, which is also known under the name of Copperhead (Trigonocephalus contortrix). Can the Indian be blamed if he really, as is generally supposed, retorted by fixing upon the first invader on his soil the equivocal name of Yankee? The best authorities on the subject now agree upon the derivation of this term from the imperfect effort made by the Northern Indians to pronounce the word "English." The Rev. Mr. Heckewelder, than whom few men have been more thoroughly at home in Indian speech and Indian character, distinctly states, that they pronounced it Yengees, and knew how to distinguish them "by their dress and personal appearance, and that they were considered as less cruel than the Virginians or Long-knives." (Hist. Acc. of the Indian Nations, p. 132.) In like manner Judge Durfee refers to them in his remarkable poem, "What Cheer; or, Roger Williams in Banishment," thus:

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"Ha! Yengee," said the Sachem, "wouldst thou go
To soothe the hungry panther scenting blood?"

(Canto III. 32.)

Nor is it less curious to notice how early the term began to be used in a disparaging sense by political or personal antagonists of the bold pioneers and bigoted puritans. The Dutch on the banks of the Hudson probably first of all applied it contemptuously to their formidable rivals on the Connecticut, and subsequently the regular troops took it up, if we may credit the Rev. Mr. Gordon, as quoted by T. Westcott of Philadelphia, when he says: "They (the British troops) were roughly handled by the Yankees, a term of reproach when applied by the regulars.” (Notes and Queries, 1852, p. 57.) Subsequently the daily-increasing animosity between the North and the South made the term Yankee in Southern minds an incarnation of all that was uncongenial and distasteful, and hence during the war the Yanks became the universal designation of Federal soldiers in the Confederacy, even as they were called Rebs-not Rebels-by Northern men. With a strange confusion of ideas the poor Confederate soldier, who succumbed morally to the privations and sufferings of Northern prisons and penitentiaries, and in his dire need took the oath and enlisted in the United States Army, was contemptuously called a galvanized Yankee-probably by an indistinct association with the worthless galvanized imitations of gold and silver, now so popular with the masses.

The same fatality which made the words America, Yankee, and Indian genuine misnomers, seems to have followed even the national songs of the American people. Yankee Doodle, at least, and the well known tune which bears this name, are anything but American. Where their birthplace really was, is, however, quite a mystery yet. New discoveries are constantly made: Kossuth was reported to have recognized it as one of the national airs of his own Magyar race, and a learned diplomat of the United States discovered it among the Basque, in one of their ancient SwordDances. This much only is certain, that the wicked wits of the court of Charles II. whistled the tune in the ears of the Nell Gwynnes of that time, and it is found jingling in a song on a famous lady of easy virtue in those days:

"Lucy Locket lost her pocket,

Kitty Fisher found it;
Nothing in it, nothing on it,

But the binding round it."

Those indefatigable students, the Duyckincks, track it still farther back to the old songs of the land of their ancestors, Holland, and claim that Dutch laborers used to sing:

"Yanker didel, doodel down,

Didel, dudel, lenter;

Yanker viver, voover vown,
Botermilk and Tanter,"-

which certainly has a suspicious look of originality about it, and might well shake our faith in the assertion that one Dr. Shackburg of the British Army composed the famous song. Its adoption as a national air dates from the day on which a country fifer happened to play it as a quick-march at the head of a small detachment of gallant countrymen going to the fight at Bunker Hill.

The true Yankee of our day is the son of New England, the descendant and worthy representative of the Pilgrim fathers, the heir to all their noble qualities, homely virtues, and violent prejudices. The type does not find its fullest expression in the accomplished Bostonian, though he live at the "Hub of the World," and be firmly persuaded that modern culture radiates from his native town to all parts of the earth; but rather in the thrifty farmer and hardy mechanic, who can do anything from running a plough to ruling a State, from selling wooden nutmegs to winning a seat in the Senate, and now and then in a master-mind like Emerson's or Lowell's. Very different is he, indeed, from the gay, generous Southron, as the Southerners are apt to be called, whom, at an early period of our history the Indians distinguished by the name of Long-knives. The origin of the term is said to have been this: "In the year 1764, a Colonel Gibson of Fort Pitt came accidentally upon a party of Mingoes, encamped on Cross Creek, a tributary of the Ohio. Little Eagle, a distinguished chief, commanded the party, and upon discovering the whites, gave a fearful whoop and at the same time discharged his gun at the Colonel. The ball passed through Gibson's coat without injuring him. With the quickness of a tiger he sprang upon his foe, and with one sweep of his sword, severed the head of Little Eagle from his body. Two other Indians were killed by the whites, but the others escaped and reported that the white captain had cut off the head of their

chief with his long knife. This was the origin of the celebrated and fearfully significant term Long-knives. It was applied throughout the war to Virginians, and even to this day has not been forgotten by some of the Western tribes." (W. De Hass, History of Indian Wars, p. 216.) Even the mutual aversion of the white against the red man has by no means become quite extinct, and it must not be forgotten that this feeling was, on the part of the former, all the stronger and deeper as the poor Indians werethanks to early preachers-for a long time looked upon as worshippers and agents of Satan. Hence the term Indian hating, is still of frequent use in the Far West, and represents a passion, which is even now a mingled ferocity and fanaticism, inconceivable to quiet Christians and perhaps to any other men but border adventurers.

Of the many words designated as Indian, we omit here all names of plants and animals, which will be mentioned elsewhere, and allude only to those which are characteristic of the language or the habits of the American. Thus he has learned from the cautious savage to traverse woods and march to distant points of attack in a single line, so that every man steps in the footsteps of the man before him, and baffles any guess at the number that may have passed. This is called walking Indian file, and applied to any occasion where people walk one behind the other. Indian Forts are inclosures, found in large numbers in New York and Pennsylvania, and less frequently in New England, Canada, and Virginia, occupying high bluff points or headlands, scarped on two or more sides and naturally easy of defence. When found on lower ground, they are generally raised on some dry knoll or little hill in the midst of a swamp, or where a bend in the river lends security to the position, but they stand invariably near an unfailing supply of water. The embankments are seldom over four feet high, pierced by one or more gateways, and surrounded by a ditch of some depth. It has been questioned, however, whether these fortifications belong to the present race of Indians or the Aztecs that preceded them in the country.

In the State of New York and in Canada there are, besides, many places found, where the Indians buried their dead, and these are known as bonepits. The bones are usually deposited in long trenches or pits, forming very extensive works and accumulations.

The ceremony of thus interring the bones of the departed was called by the Indians the "second burying," and took place among some tribes, like those visited by Charlevoix, every eight years, but among the Iroquois and the Hurons every ten years. Early settlers occasionally quote these burials as the festival of the dead. (H. R. Schoolcraft.)

These Indian Forts are, moreover, carefully to be distinguished from the Indian Mounds which are found in nearly every State of the Union, but in all probability have but rarely any connection with the Aborigines. The habit of the people of ascribing any unusual form of the surface ground to the agency of the former owners of the land, has, no doubt, led to the designation of these mounds as Indian. In many cases they are, of course, burial-places of the Red man, and when opened, are found to contain bones, tomahawks, and other rude tools and weapons. Such abound especially in the Middle and Southern States, and, within the memory of men now living, the Indians of the Far West have come to visit once more the graves of their forefathers in the Atlantić States, startling the quiet dwellers there by their sudden and uncouth appearance, and vanishing again like a dream, after having deposited some simple memorial on one of these mounds. In other parts of the country every rounded knoll is so called, and thus in California, especially in times of flood, "cattle and sheep are gathered on Indian Mounds, waiting the fate of their companions, whose carcasses drift by or swing in eddies with the wrecks of barns and outhouses." (F. B. Harte, The Luck of Roaring Camp, p. 221.) But here also they are strangely mixed up with the Indians, and thus the same author speaks of the end of one of his most graphically described heroes: "He was buried in the Indian Mound, the single spot of strange, perennial greenness, which the poor aborigines had raised above the dusty plain." (p. 234.)

The State of Florida has a peculiar kind of mounds, which are familiarly known as Chunk Yards or Chunkee Yards, consisting of oblong yards adjoining high mounds and "rotundas," built by the Seminoles. In the centre stands a mysterious obelisk, and at each of the more remote corners a post or strong stake, to which their captives were bound previous to being tortured and burnt. The able historian of Florida, Mr. Bartram, says: "The pyramidal hills or artificial mounts, and highways or avenues, leading from