A Paris paper says: Amid those specimens of feminine archaeology, grouped before the windows of the shops, you cannot fail to remark a pale young woman, of small stature, and expressing herself in English with a silent accent which gives to this language a charm hitherto unknown. A lady of a certain age and a gentlemen who accompanied her, do not cease to regard her, and according to a popular expression, have to "drink her words."

This young woman who has borne, for only six months, one of the most aristocratic names of the three kingdoms, was called but a short time ago Tookoolitka. Three years ago she inhabited with the Esquimaux (sic), her countrymen, the Bay of Ookoviear, called by the English Grinnel's Bay, and which is situated about the sixteenth degree of north latitude. In the place of the rich costume she now wears with such ease and grace, her attire consisted of a vest of seal skin, embroidered on the seams with red and white worsted in arabesque; a pantaloon made of the same material, confined her small waist and descended to the knee, leaving to be seen in all their exquisite proportions, her legs and diminutive feet, cased in boots of pliant red leather.

Finally her abundant hear of hair of jet black was tied at the top of the head by a broad blue band made of the skin of the Isatis, and colored by the unctuous juice of a certain kind of lichen. An adopted orphan of one of her tribe, she passed the summer under a tufu or tent, made of the skin of the reindeer, and nine months of the year in an igloo, that is to say, in a house built of blocks of snow soldered together by the cold, and capped by a dome of the same material. In the centre of the same dwelling, a stone lamp, supplied with the fat of a seal, burning uninterruptedly during nine months of the year - a long and dreary night. The light, among other things, served in lieu of a fireplace for drying her clothes, penetrated by the humid atmosphere, and for warming her hands, benumbed by the cold oftentimes twenty degrees below zero.

The Esquimaux have no means of combating the rigors of a winter, like to which ours is a summer. The debris cast upon these shores are never burned by the natives for the purpose of warming themselves, but are employed by them in making sleighs. In fact they leave unmolested the numerous heaps of coal which Lady Franklin had caused to be put at different points, in the hope that they might be of service to her husband, whom she believed lost and wandering in these frozen regions. Three years ago, Lord Frederic Fitz made***, as ensign, one of the crew of the George Henry sent in search of Sir John Franklin. This ship was built expressly for the voyage, and was constructed after the manner of the whale ships; for a ship with high sides cannot navigate those frozen seas without great danger.

On the approach of winter the George Henry was suddenly frozen up in the ice. This misfortune produced the most serious inquietude, the more so as the stores of the ship were getting short, being now reduced to tainted salt meat and the uncertain chance of the chase.

One day, or rather one night - for the night reigns nine months in the Ookoviear Bay - a young girl, in a sleigh drawn by twelve dogs, came on the ice alongside the George Henry, climbed with uncommon agility to the deck of the ship, and commenced examining with the greatest curiosity, the "great wooden house of the strangers." After having visited every corner she perceived Sir Frederick stretched upon the captain's bed. Tears came to her eyes as she saw the poor young man about to die without the hope of relief. she immediately proposed by gesture to take the young man with her, and to nurse him at her own house. The officers eagerly accepted this chance of relief for their companion, improbable as his cure seemed to be, aiding Tookoolitka - this was her name - to remove Frederic to the sleigh of the kind-hearted girl.

She gave the signal for starting to the dogs, a peculiar slapping of the tongue against the roof of the mouth, and drove rapidly away with the ensign. Having arrived at her home after a two hours' ride, she entered a few minutes after with a wooden vase filled with the blood of the sea-calf. To her great surprise Frederick refused to drink. However he soon overcame his repugnance, and "found it excellent" This is his own expression in the volume published of his voyage. he partook every day, not only without distaste, but even with avidity, of this medicament, and he felt his strength return so fast that in three months after, dressed in their style, he rivaled them in daring address, in driving a sleigh, chasing the sea-calves, scaling the rocks, and carrying away birds' nests across shoals and broken ice, not to mention that he managed in the most intrepid manner, with a single oar, his long narrow bark made of skins, and called a Kias. Tookoolitka accompanied him in all his excursions, and did not quit him for a moment.

Endowed with the marvelous facility of the people of the north in acquiring foreign languages, she not only spoke English purely, but thanks to the lessons of Frederick, she read and wrote it. About the month of April following, the George Henry was disengaged from the ice, and preparing for weighing anchor and returning to England. When Tookoolitka learned the news, she retired to her tent of reindeer skins, pitched on the seashore. Frederick came to her and found her bathed in tears. "Sister," said he, for he called her habitually by this name, "Sister, my mother expects you in England, come." Tookoolitka dried her tears, gave him her hand, and accompanied him without hesitation on board the George Henry, which arrived unexpectedly three months after in England. Some time after Lady Fitz, who quit the young stranger for a moment, still prettier in the European than in her native costume, presented her to Queen Victoria as her future daughter-in-law. The Queen declared that she would sign with her own hand the marriage contract between the officer of marines and Tookoolitka. "In the meantime," added she, smiling "as this name is a little strange, I ask of my young friend to renounce it and take that of Victoria."

Tookoolitka, now Lady Fitz, may be seen promenading in the Palais Royal, offering the singular spectacle of an Esquimaux becoming an English lady of distinction.

FEBRUARY 15, 1867

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