JUNE

 

And after her came jolly June, array'd 
All in green leaves, as he a player were;

Yet in his time he wrought as well as play'd, 

That by his plough-irons mote right well appeare, 

Upon a crab he rode, that him did bare 

With crooked crawling steps an uncouth pase, 

And backward-yode, as bargemen wont to fare 

Bending their force contrary to their face; 

Like that ungracious crew which faines demurest grace. 

                                                                    Spenser 

References:

2.THE EVERY DAY BOOK OR Everlasting Calendar OF POPULAR AMUSEMENTS SPORTS PASTIMES CEREMONIES MANNERS CUSTOMS AND EVENTS INCIDENT TO EACH OF THE THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE DAYS IN PAST AND PRESENT TIMES FORMING A COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE YEAR MONTHS & SEASONS AND A PERPETUAL KEY TO THE ALMANACK INCLUDING ACCOUNTS OF THE WEATHER RULES FOR HEALTH AND CONDUCT REMARKABLE AND IMPORTANT ANECDOTES FACTS AND NOTICES IN CHRONOLOGY ANTIQUITIES TOPOGRAPHY BIOGRAPHY NATURAL HISTORY ART SCIENCE AND GENERAL LITERATURE DERIVED FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES AND VALUABLE ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS WITH POETICAL ELUCIDATIONS FOR DAILY USE AND DIVERSION BY WILLIAM HONE ۱ 

Pauline

 

Pauline - A Poem

By F.B. MONEY COUTTS 

 IN a back street, in a back quarter, lived 
Pauline 
In Paris- called of France the queen; 

Howbeit gloom and grief are there, 

In corners that do not appear.

Where Pauline lived the street was narrow, 

Shunned even by the jaunty sparrow; 

He found no sun in which to bask, 

Though light's a little boon to ask. 

All day sat Pauline at her work 

In that bad back-street, close and murk, 

Which, seemed perverse and in disgrace, 

To shun the day's benignant face. 

And yet this little jacket-trimmer, 

Of Nature's beauty had a glimmer, 

One little plant she kept alive; 

'Twas marvel how she could contrive. 

It was a rose-tree in a pot- 

No bunch of blue forget-me-not 

To maiden, new-betrothed, so sweet; 

To poet never bloom so meet. 

Yet cherish it howe'er she might, 

It could not brook eternal night; 

And not the sunshine of her eyes 

Could for its vital need suffice. 

So every day, for light and air, 

She bore it with her to the square, 

And talked to it till she was glad; 

It was the only friend she had. 

She placed it in the plots of sun, 

Counting its petals, one by one; 

And almost thought, with happy laugh, 

Its draughts of sun she saw it quaff. 

And so it branched, and so it flowered, 

And Pauline was right richly dowered, 

Instead of being a sun to it, 

In her it kept the sunshine lit. 

Fresh breezes seemed to haunt its scent, 

A ray of sun seemed in it pent, 

And like a bee, deep buried there, 

Would Pauline's spirit cease from care. 

And all this happened in an alley; 

And Pauline might have been a Sally, 

Or Jane, or any mother's daughter; 

And what could Pauline's rose have taught 

her?

Is it to cherish things of beauty, 

However ugly be thy duty? 

And if thou hast not roses red, 

A lovely thought will do instead. 

Or is it this-thy soul to tend 

And care and nurture on it spend, 

And give it times when it may lie 

Like flowers that look into the sky? 

References:

Friendly leaves 1882

The Pauline 1903

 

THE MISER

 

THE MISER

by ELIZA COOK  

To be frugal is wise; 'and this lesson of truth 
Should ever be preach'd in the ears of youth. 

The young must be curb'd in their spendthrift haste, 

Lest meagre want should follow on waste: 

But to see the hand that is wither'd and old 

So eagerly clutch at the shining gold- 

Oh! can it be good that man should crave 

The dross of the world- so nigh his grave? 

Sad is the lot of those who pine 

In the gloomy depths of the precious mine; 

But they toil not so hard, in gaining the ore, 

As the miser in guarding the glittering store. 

He counts the coin, with a feasting eye, 

And trembles the while if a step come nigh: 

He adds more wealth; and a smiling trace 

Of joy comes over his shrunken face. 

He seeks the bed, where he cannot rest, 

Made close beside his idol chest; 

He wakes with a wilder'd haggard stare,

 For he dreams a thief is busy there; 

He searches around-the bolts are fast, 

And the watchmen of the night go past. 

His coffers are safe; but there's fear in his brain, 

And the miser cannot sleep again. 

He never flings the blessed mite 

To fill the orphan child with delight: 

The dog may howl, the widow may sigh, 

He hears them not- they may starve, and die. 

His breast is of ice, no throbbing glow 

Spreads there at the piercing tale of woe; 

All torpid and cold, he lives alone 

In his heaps, like the toad embedded in stone. 

Death comes-but the miser's friendly bier 

Is free from the sobbing mourner's tear; 

Unloved, unwept, no grateful one 

Will tell of the kindly deeds he has done. 

Oh! never covet the miser's fame, 

'Tis a cheerless halo, that circles his name; 

And one fond heart that will truly grieve, 

Will outweigh all the gold that we can leave. 

ELIZA COOK 

References:

Chatterbox 1877

The Shield of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland

 The Shield of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland 

 A Poem By PW Dwyer 4to Pp 24 2s 6d Ginger 1803 

Sunt quos curriculo pulverem olympicum 
Collegisse juvat metaque fervidis 
Evitata Rotis palmaque nobilis 
Terrarum Dominos evehit ad Deos 

                                       HOR,- 

 RB.23.6.4309 
RB 23.b.4309 

ARISE my Muse and touch the tuneful Lyre, 

With strains entrancing ev'ry sense inspire, 

My soul, enrapture, as expands the Theme, 

To glow with the subject the Verse should seem. 

Britannia sporting on the waving Main, 

Along the surface floats her Robe's grand Train, 

The Graces wait upon her person fine, 

And sea Nymphs follow in a state divine.

As from the skies great Neptune views her charms, 

Quick beats his Heart, and with fond wishes warms, 

Ye Gods, says He, observe that noble Fair, 

With her, in Beauty, Venus can't compare. 

To calm the Billows of the raging Deep,

Through Ether down my Car must fleetly sweep, 

The Tempests rude, on her shall cease to blow, 

To their dark Dens, the howling Tribe must go.

His Coursers prancing, eagar for the Way

Way Snort for the Reins, grow restive at delay, 

When the known signal from the Lash they hear, 

Heav'ns high Barrier with a bound they clear, 

Vast trackless Regions, soon, they leave behind, 

Then on Ocean breathe ambrosial Wind.  

To the roaring seas, their sovereign presents 

The Trident dreadful to their foaming Breasts,

With awe profound the roaring Waves sink low, 

Their passions hush and on they smoothly flow.

Britannia now with pure delight he views, 

Responsive Rays from her bright orbs diffuse 

Around his Heart, the pleasing pangs of Love, 

That long detain'd him from the realms above.

Mars seeing Neptune on the briny plains, 

A willing Captive in Britannia's chains, 

High Jove invokes to grant the pair divine, 

An offspring worthy o'er the World to shine.

The King of Gods robed with radiant Beams, 

Sits on the Throne, where Day eternal gleams, 

And thus decrees, from them a Son shall spring, 

Whose mighty Deeds, the Universe will sing.     

His course to Ocean Hymen gladly bends, 

And from the Skies with rapid flight descends, 

Th exalted Lovers ardent for the Bands, 

He gently binds with his auspicious Hands. 

The charming Bride, in Bloom, excels the rose, 

Two Globes entrancing her sweet Bosom shows, 

His Head between them Neptune softly press'd, 

In Bliss celestial both then sunk to rest.

From this Union as in Heaven ordain'd, 

The Hero sprang, whom Gods to War have train'd, 

On him in Battle, Mars and Neptune smile, 

And chear their Darling Nelson of the Nile.*

(*-The Right Honourable Viscount Nelson Duke of Bronte & c & c )

When Gaul's grand Fleet away for Egypt bore, 

To Land her Troops upon its northern Shore,

Nelson pursues it, with deep, swelling sails, 

And near that Coast, the hostile squadron hails. 

 

From either Ships, the dreadful Cannons roar, 

On their broad Decks, run streams of human Gore, 

Rising Courage, the Valiant Men inspires, 

His Brother slain, each Heart for Vengeance fires. 

Bacchus seeing the dread confusion rise. 

Through the boundless Air. fast as lightning flies. 

From his Quiver. an Arrow flaming drew. 

The bearded Javelin at brave Nelson threw. 

A God protects him as it towards him fled,

He only felt it slightly touch his Head. 

For Mars himself near the Conqueror stands, 

The coming Dart with force superior hands.  

'Gainst L'orient* the Weapon thund'ring hurls, 

A Vast Volcano to the Heav'ns she curls: 

This awful scene impos'd some moments pause, 

Kind Nature shudder'd at the mournful cause.

(*-The French Admiral's Ship blown up at the ever memorable Battle of the Nile)  

High Jove with pity Views the horrid sight, 

And still the Heroes raging for the fight, 

A Council of the Gods directly calls, 

In haste they crow'd along the starry Halls, 

Before him then, in silence graves appear, 

Attentive all his sov'reign Will to hear. 

The Thunderer speaks, ye powers divine, 

Shall we the mortal race to War resign, 

Near Afric's Coast in a Contention dire,

The Gauls and Britons shew their burning Ire,

Beneath their Vessels, flows a scarlet flood, 

Richly colour'd with their yet reeking Blood: 

Among the Sons of Earth such strife now reigns, 

As soon would desolate her wide Domains.  

Must Gauls, says Bacchus, who rear the Dear Vine, 

And pour on our Altars the gen'rous Wine, 

To Britons the knee with submission bend, 

Can not our power, these Heroes defend, 

From them Neptune's Son shall not bear the sway, 

Here in a passion was strutting away:

When Neptune replied, ever on the Main, 

Shall our dearest Nelson, new honors gain, 

Vict'ry is wreathing the Caronet green, 

That on his head waving soon will be seen.

Loud grew the debate when Apollo arose, 

Advised the immortals themselves to compose,  

Let not human Quarrels this high sphere affect, 

These in their bud,could by you have been check'd. 

Meantime on Sea, the Leaders nobly Vye, 

Through Air in Showers Bullets madly fly, 

The british Thunder shakes the mighty deep, 

And French in Thousands sends to endless sleep. 

The Sword o'er Europe those could surely wield, 

Had the bold Britons ne'er forced them to yield, 

To these with their Courage still on the flow, 

The Heroic Gauls their Colours strike low, 

Deep shaded with Laurel brave Nelson appears, 

Fame with his Valour, fair Albion chears. 

The Danes he has taught his Name to respect,

When Britain's just Laws, they wish'd to reject, 

Soon he convinced them, 'twas vain to oppose, 

The Courage divine that in his Breast glows. 

To Copenhagen, he gave a salute, 

That they to the Gods, alone, could impute, 

Their Ships and their Forts in Confusion blaze, 

While on Neptune's Son, with wonder they gaze. 

St Vincent,* a Name to us ever dear, 

The Spaniards, has made his prowess to fear, 

+His Cannon tremendous humbled their pride, 

And their mangled Bodies, strew d on the Tide.

This scene round their Hearts diffus'd a deep gloom, 

With terror the View the fast gorging Tomb, 

They strike to bold Jervis++ who their fleet files, 

Under his Banner's to visit our Isles.  

(*- The Right Honourable Earl St Vincent first Lord of the Admiralty & c 

+-In the famous Battle Fought of Cape St. Vincent where our Noble Admiral with fifteen Sail of the Line either took or destroyed 22 of the Spanish Line

++-1 The Right Honourable the Earl of St Vincent who was then Sir John Jervis ) 

Brave Duncan & the Hero of Camperdown, 

Where he has gained never fading renown, 

To Holland that Battle gave such a blow. 

As long she must feel with the deepest woe.

Nobly De Winter the Contest maintains, 

And our dreadful fire with spirit sustains, 

Until he perceives his Decks clear'd away, 

Then to the Britons, he gives up the Day.  

O'er the wide Ocean these Heroes will ride, 

Justice their Motto, true honour their Guide, 

The Ensigns of Britain unconquer'd they'll wave ,

Where e'er the salt Billows shores hostile lave. 

Now Father Neptune most graciously Eye 

Thy pendants Britannia on the Seas fly, 

Nereids dance round them, in order so rare, 

Gaul shrugs her shoulders, recoils from the glare.

(&-The Right Honourable Viscount Duncan & c The Battle of Camperdown

 c -The Battle of Camperdown ) 

The Campaign in Egypt, all Nations know, 

Thy Gen'rals has shewn can vanguish our Foe, 

There Abercromby* for his Country bled, 

But not until Victry laureled his Head: 

The Vet'rans of France lay dead on the plain, 

And Rivers of Gore ran straight to the Main, 

His spirit though gone, his Memory will stay, 

Long as the Sun will illumine the Day. 

The Triumphant Army, then is led on, 

To bloody Battles, by brave Hutchinson,+

Their conquering Arms, no strength could oppose, 

As danger increased their courage arose.  

(*- Sir Ralph Abercromby the brave and experienced Commander who Fought in the Battle of Alexandria after receiving a mortal Wound, until through loss of Blood he was falling from his Horse.

+-The Right Honourable Lord Hutchinson, who Valiantly supported the Honor of his Country, after the example shewn him by the immortal Abercromby,)  

The French in each Contest all their force strain, 

Their hard acquired Honors still to retain, 

But superior Valour from their Brows tore, 

All the green Wreaths they from Italy bore: 

To Gaul they were sent to tell their sad Tale; 

The Turks as redeemer Hutchinson hail. 

 

Cover'd with Glory the Victor returns, 

These Islands to see, his loyal Breast burns. 

On his arrival, the people acclaim; 

And the whole Empire, resound with his Name. 

Virtue and knowledge our senate display, 

And to fair Liberty, due homage pay, 

Her Throne, in each Breast, the Goddess admires, 

Guarded by candour and fondest desires, 

At their discussions, she always presides, 

Their Wisdom directs, oppression derides; 

Bless'd with her presence and almighty Aid, 

An unrivaled Code of Laws they have made, 

Which shews to the World their Judgment mature, 

And raise their Fame on a foundation sure. 

Addington++ their Leader peace has pursu'd, 

And her parting Train long anxiously view'd, 

But cruel Ambition forced her to roam, 

With all her Blessings to some distant Home. 

(++-The Right Honourable Henry Addington first Lord of the Treasury Chancellor of the Exchequer & c & c )

Since his fond wishes precious Blood to spare,

 And pure, desire no friendly Ties to tear, 

And Heart pacific, patient and sincere, 

And all those qualities, that we revere; 

Since these united could not peace retain, 

Their worthy Pilot Britons will sustain; 

His struggles to preserve the public Weal,

Weal With affection warm, tenderly they feel. 

Hawkesbury* superior to his years rise, 

Justly is ranked with the great and the wise, 

Of Language the Floods that from his lips stream, 

The statesman declare with ardour to teem. 

His sagacious soul can certainly tell 

Those plans, that the Breast of an enemy swell, 

And will disconcert his malice sprung schemes, 

Europe shall see, they 're but wild, airy Dreams. 

(*-The Right Honourable Lord Hawkesbury )

In the sound reas'ning of a Pitt* we find, 

Ev'ry Talent that can adorn the Mind.

(*-The Right Honourable William Pitt ) 

His powers those hostile to Britain dread, 

And fruitful springs of his capacious Head. 

By extensive knowledge and Judgment great, 

+Fox can feel the pulse of every state, 

Can tell the cause from whence proceeds the pain, 

And treatment right to banish it again.

(+-The Honourable Charles J. Fox ) 

Hundreds of Senators more could I Name, 

In Eloquence great, in Virtues the same, 

All, with our Warriors join Heart and Hand, 

Gallic Ambition to ever withstand. 

With these as a Shield to protect the state, 

In our happy Isles we'll still be elate, 

Sharing these pleasures, we here have in store, 

For greater we need not Lands far explore. 

Mountains their Summits above the Clouds raise, 

Where Phœbus, each morn, his first homage pays, 

Verdant Woods cloathe them superbly around, 

With our guardian Oak, these Forests abound:

Rivers majestic beneath their Feet stray, 

Admiring the charms their green Banks display, 

Limpid streams playing in Meads rob'd with flow'rs, 

Join with their babbling the Music of Bow'rs. 

Smooth hided Droves thickly chequer the Vales, 

In which richest Verdure never them fails, 

The Lord of the Herd, from Dale to Dale roves, 

In search of his Dear, and lows to the Groves. 

Flocks without number, on dasied Hills feed, 

To their full Udders, the frisking young speed, 

And as a Mother her fine Babe will greet, 

They to their Nurslings with tenderness bleat. 

Cere'lian Treasures in golden Waves go 

Bowing to Zephyrs that o'er their Heads blow; 

Fine Cities and Towns and Villas and Fanes, 

Adorn with splendour the far stretching plains. 

Lo! London, their princess, nobly she stands, 

Around Father Thames, on the rising Lands, 

The Riches He bears from the Eastern shores, 

Into her Lap he generously pours. 

Mind her great steeples, they cleave the high Clouds, 

The Lustre of squares, where gay Fashion crowds, 

Parks, Lawns and Gardens her large Border crown,

Commerce to the World reports her renown. 

Dear Isles thy Daughters have the Form divine, 

Bless'd with a Soul from which all Virtues shine, 

That glows with a Heart, where such feelings dwell, 

As only their Eyes with justice can tell, 

Pity's soft touches, these truly express, 

Full they appear at the Tale of distress, 

When Love in them play, their Glances can pierce, 

The Breast of the Sage and Warrior fierce, 

A Rose Bud to view the sweet Lip Displays, 

The Cheek native Bloom in crimson arrays. 

Fine Ringlets of Black, or of Auburn bright, 

Half-shade a Neck as the falling snow white 

The Bosom how fair, here soft delights meet, 

Of each winning Charm the enchanting seat. 

Since War's hoarse Trumpet the alarm dire sounds, 

And Clarion's shrill Voice from Rocks far rebounds, 

Our Courage, the circling shores shall see rise, 

The clangour of Arms we'll raise to the Skies, 

With our Valiant Heroes boldly will fly, 

To conquer our Foe or nobly to die.

Let us remember, when we must contend, 

All the dear Blessings we have to defend, 

Then, fired with their Love, like Men we'll engage,

 And in the Battle, as Lyons, will rage, 

Shew Gauls, when they dare our Isles to invade, 

Valour, our Ancestors often display'd, 

Never again, shall they recross the Deep, 

Here to a Man in the Grave they must sleep.-

                              FINIS.

Printed by J Galton No 11 Little Eastcheap    

MUSIC FOR THIS POEM- CANTAT 

entstanden wären gewiss nachhaltiger gewirkt hätten nichts auszusetzen finden Hatte schon seine Cantate "Invocation of Neptune and his attendant Nereids of Britannia" in London einen beispiellosen Beifall gefunden, so dürfen sein 29, Psalm, die heroische Cantate "Andromeda," und eine andere "die Hirten bei der Krippe zu Betlehem," Gedicht von Ramler, sowie seine Quintette und Quartette als nicht minder vortreffliche Arbeiten nicht unbemerkt bleiben, wenn man in die letzten Jahrzehnte des 18 Jahrhunderts zurücksteigt. G. selbst starb am 19 Aug 1795 zu Augsburg .

References:

1. THE SHIELD OF THE UNITED KINGDOM OF Great Britain and Ireland A POEM By P.W. DWYER LONDON Printed by J Galton No 11 Little Eastcheap FOR THE AUTHOR AND SOLD BY J GINGER No 160 Piccadilly and HD SYMONDS Paternoster Row PRICE 2s 6d 1803 

2. NAVAL CHRONICLE VOZ XXIZ 

THE Naval Chronicle FOR 1811 CONTAINING A GENERAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY OF THE United Kingdom WITH A VARIETY OF ORIGINAL PAPERS ON NAUTICAL SUBJECTS UNDER THE GUIDANCE OF SEVERAL LITERARY AND PROFESSIONAL MEN VOL XXVI FROM JULY TO DECEMBER VOL XXVI FROM JULY TO DECEMBER Tu regere imperio populos Britanne memento Hae tibi erunt artes paci que imponere morem Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos LONDON PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY AND FOR JOYCE GOLD 103 SHOE LANE And sold by Messrs Longman Hurst Rees Orme & Brown Messrs Wilkie & Robinson Messrs Sherwood Neeley and Jones and Mr Walker Paternoster row White and Co Fleet street Messrs Vernor Hood and Sharpe Poultry Mr Asperne and Messrs Richardsons Corn hill Messrs Black Parry and Kingsbury Leadenhall street Messrs Crosby and Co Stationers hall court Messrs Scatchard and Letterman and Mr Law Avemaria lune Mr Lindsell Wimpole street Mr Andrews Charing cross Mr Booth Duke street Port land place Messrs Mottley and Co Portsmouth Mr Woodward Portsea Messrs Congdon Hozland and Platt Dock Messrs Haydon Rees and Curtis Smith Rogers and Nettle ton Plymouth Mr Godwin Bath Messrs Norton and Son Bristol Mr Robinson Liverpool Mr Wilson Hull Messrs Manners and Miller Mr Creech and Mr Consta ble Edinburgh Mr Turnbull and Mr Lumsden Glasgow and the principal Booksellers in the different Seaport Towns throughout the United Kingdom Koninklijke Willcothick tasmager 

3.Musikalisches CONVERSATIONS LEXIKON Eine Encyklopädie der gesammten musikalischen Wissenschaften Für Gebildete aller Stände unter Mitwirkung der literarischen Commission des Berliner Tonkünftlervereins sowie der Herren Musikdir C Billert Custos A Dörffel Kapellmeister Prof Dorn Prof G Engel Direktor Gevaërt L Hartmann Dr F Hüffer Prof FW Jähns Dr W Langhans Professor E Mach Professor Dr E Naumann Dr Oscar Paul A Reissmann Prof EF Richter Prof WH Riehl Musikdirektor Dr W Rust Geh Rath Schlecht O Tiersch Direktor L Wandelt Dr H Zopff u s w u s w bearbeitet und herausgegeben von Hermann Mendel Vierter Band BERLIN Verlag von Robert Oppenheim 1874 

WHAT WOULD JESUS DO?

in Mrs. A. P. Jarvis- the classic of Native American Indian Poetry. Her poems are about the heroes of the American Nation- The Pawnee Indian Tribe. The Pawnee indians resided in the State of Nebraska, particularly the Lincoln county.

WHAT WOULD JESUS DO? 

BY MRS.  A.P. JARVIS

 What would Jesus do if he were here? 
To answer we scarcely dare, 
Of course as in far-off Galilee, 
He would spend whole nights in prayer.

His words were ever of faith and hope, 

He sought for his people's good, 

And did not pause though his loving deeds 

Were often misunderstood.

His life was a loving ministry. 

If like him we would become, 

We would seek the souls that are lost in sin 

And endeavor to lead them home.

THE HYMN WAS FOUND IN THE NEWSPAPER- 424328 HERALD AND PRESBYTER VOL LXXIX No 1 JANUARY 1 1908.

THE RELIGIOUS HYMN, WRITTEN BY THE VERY FAMOUS NATIVE AMERICAN INDIAN POETESSE IS PUBLISHED AS IT IS. THIS IS THE CLASSIC POETRY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA CIRCA 1912.

MRS. A. P. JARVIS Is a very famous Native American Indian poet- PAWNEE TRIBE. She was known to have resided in the State of Nebraska. The Chief of the Pawnee tribe in June 1913 was Sir David Gilingham- the name in English tongue. The Name of Sir David Gilingham in the Pawnee Indian tribe tradition is The Grey Eagle. 1913 he has payed a visit to St. Louis as a delegate to the Baptist conventionm after which  he went to Chicago, Illinois.

The Indian name of Mrs. A.P. Jarvis- the famous Native Indian poet- Pawnee tribe, has not reached us. American readers appreciated her hymns published in the Herald and Presbyter Magazine and other Presbyterian pressa in 1908-1913.

Who are and were  the Pawnee?

The Pawnee- Native American Indians of  Nebraska state, The nation was commonly regarded as the last of the Caddoan Tribes of the North America. They have  migrated in a general northeasterly direction.  When the Siouan Tribes of the North American continent has the entered the valley of the Platte River in Nebraska. They have found the Pawnee tribes already established in that region. The Pawnee called themselves by a term, which in the language of the tribe has a  meaning "men of men". Their present name was probably given by some neighboring tribe, not by themselves. It is thought that  the name Pawnee is derived from "pariki", which has a  meaning- " a horn". It is the real ethnographical and anthropological fact that  the Pawnee warriors, had custom to shave the whole head except of a narrow strip, extending from the forehead to the scalplock. There they used to stiffen this ridge of the hair  left unshaven, with a grease and paint curving it upward like a horn. 

Pawnee Native Indians, otherwise called People of the Plains, historically resided in the states of Oklahoma, Nebraska and Kansas. The Pawnee language is classified as the Caddoan Native Indian language family of the USA.

They in numbers and in 1928 the Pawnee population was 2,766 - the data is not  providing the clear number- what this number meant- the families or the  count of the original Native Indian Americans still alive.