He was escorted to the chapel and through the long sermon was a model of propriety and conformed perfectly with the customs of the church. He expressed himself later as liking the music, but remarked that the “preacher talked too fast.”
From time to time colored pictures from Sunday School charts have been given or mailed to the Indians and Billy reports, “Indians got ’em,” keeping them with their treasures in boxes or trunks.
Blue backed spelling books had been sent to these Indians, for the spelling book is the Seminole’s ideal in literature, and Billy reported that the books were in good order—and Indian boys, spell “littly bit.”
Who shall say there is no hope for the civilization of this picturesque tribe?
Not a hair’s breadth will this Indian diverge from the truth. Even to the simple question as to when he would visit his white friends again, he replied, “Six moons; me don’t know, maybe ten moons; six moons, me say—no come, white man say, ‘Billy Bowlegs lock-a-dox ojus!’ (lie too much).”
Billy is grateful for favors shown him and on his return from a visit always sends some remembrance. A letter usually accompanies the present, and the following is a unique specimen of his literary ability:
“Indian Town, Fla., J. M. Willson, Jr., Kissimmee.
I write you Letter. I send you Big Alligator Feet skin. Big Alligator 12 ft. long 4½ inches. This time Indian no sick. All Good Well Ojus. You write to me Letter. Your Friend
Mr. Billy Bowlegs.”