Father Seattle's speech

Yonder sky that has swept tears of evensorrow upon my folk for tides untold, and which to us looks wendless and everlasting, may end. Today is fair, tomorrow it may be overcast... My words are like the stars that never frother: whatever Seattle says, the great reve at Washington can dow upon as much as he can upon the edrising of the seles and sun. White Reve says that Big Reve in Washington sends us greetings of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him for we know that he has little need of our friendship. His lede are many - they are like the reeds and grass that hele the land. Mine are few - they look like the scattering trees of a storm-swept meadow. the great - and I believe - good, White Reve sends us word that he wishes to buy our land but he wishes to give us enough to live froveringly, which indeed, seems fair, rather givle, for the Red Man no longer has rights that he need onlook, and the ettle may be wise, also, as we are no longer in need of a swathful land.

There was a time when our folk heled the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea tild its shell-decked floor, but that time long since rode away with the greatness of ilks that are now but a nornful edcalling. I will not dwell on, nor norn over our untimely forwarning, nor lean my white-nebbed brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to chide.