The following speech was delivered by Ralph J. Weeks, a full blood Pawnee Indian boy, June 20, 1883, addressed to his agent, superintendent, school, and other friends.

My Indian origin and lack of schools= advantages when younger never developed in me the thought, the power, and eloquence of an immortal Webster or Clay, but I can see that we are passing from the strength of numbers and savagery to higher ranks and the discovery of a new sense to us. As my race approaches extinction, we see with our eyes, hear with our ears, and we obtain knowledge as different from the faith of our ancestry as yours is from ours today. This grows out of contact with you, who are so much more advanced in the arts and sciences and cultured in refinement of thought and expression. These are the attributes of your power over us, and as snow melts under the sun of spring time, so does the Indian of long ago disappear before the advancing hordes of civilization. Your advancement in all that is grand and sublime is a feature fixed in your course through time, while our extermination as Indians, the absorption of a weaker by a stronger race, is unchanged, and with each succeeding year an increase of speed hastens us to the tomb of a soon to be forgotten race.

These are solemn reflections for me, but the inevitable cannot be changed. These tiny hands and little hearts of the children of my tribe who are now before me are no longer learning war from those who have gloried in blood and scalps, but are sitting in the current that is fast taking them from the shores of rudeness and barbarity soon to be lost in the great sea of human knowledge.

It is right; it is best; and the further we have been from the camp and the buffalo ground, the better it seems to be for us. I would not have them stop on the way, but wish to encourage every Indian child within the sound of my voice to press onward. I can now see where I failed to turn my opportunity to the best account when young. I then thought schooling was hard and unnecessary. But let me tell you, my Indian friends, that it has been but recently since I appreciated my little education and felt the need of more. An Indian can have no experience more impressive of the need of an education than to travel, as I did a few years ago, and mingle with the best people of the largest and most populous cities in the country. It was then and there that I first saw the needs of my people and wished that all of you, my Indian friends, could have my opportunity for seeing the ways of a great people. APress forward, press onward,@ children, do not be discouraged; and before you are as old as I am, you will appreciate my little advice as you cannot now.

And to you, Mr. Davis, the superintendent of this school, and teachers, and in fact all the employees, permit me to express my pleasure and gratitude for your efforts to advance these children. We have had good teachers before, those whom we have loved as such, but in no instance have I felt so highly pleased and hopeful for the future of my nation as when witnessing these few evenings= exercises by these children as taught them by a Christian people, those who acknowledge their humanity and love their souls, and I would beg of you the continued exercises of patience with the children. Their scope of mind will not compare with yours. They cannot reason from cause to effect, as you can, and they sometimes become impatient in the discharge of duty. Continue to bring to your assistance the patience and courage I have seen you manifest in your tiresome task, and though I, an Indian, tells you so, the Great Spirit, one in whom both you and I confide, will reward you for your labor, if not in this world, in the world to come.

RALPH J. WEEKS [Alias AWarrior,@ U. S. Indian Police.]