I-NRLF 
 
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 32106017226322 
 
 STORIES for 
 CHILDREN 
 
WENONAH'S STORIES 
 FOR CHILDREN 
 
 CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM 
 
 and 
 
 WAKREN PROCTOR 
 
 THE 
 HARMONY SHOP 
 
 PUBLISHERS OF GOOD BOOKS 
 
 BOSTON MASS. 
 
Univ. Library it sarito. ^ruz2004 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1918, 
 BY A. M. DAVIS 
 
PS 
 
 !2,l 
 
 m 
 
 EDITH BULLEN 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Lois AND HAROLD 1 
 
 II. WENONAH 5 
 
 III. DUSTY FEET 16 
 
 IV. BASKET MAKING 23 
 
 V. THE WAND .... ^ .... 28 
 
 VI. THE GOLDEN KEY 48 
 
 VII. THE POLAWEE ....... 85 
 
 VIII. FAREWELL 111 
 
 - 
 
WENONAH'S STORIES 
 FOR CHILDREN 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 LOIS AND HABOLD. 
 
 W"^HEN Lois and Harold Bobbins first 
 learned that they were not going to the 
 seashore this summer they felt very 
 much disappointed. 
 
 Lois was ten years old and Hal was eight. 
 They thought there was no fun so nice as wading 
 in the salt water and letting the foam break 
 over their legs. Of course it was better still to 
 have Daddy put the water-wings on them and let 
 them float, and give them swimming lessons. 
 They had not quite learned to swim alone yet 
 without the water-wings, and this was to be the 
 summer when they would surely do it. 
 
 When their father saw their disappointment 
 he tried to cheer them up. 
 
 " Don't you know that Lake Michigan looks 
 as big as the ocean ? " he asked, 
 it isn't salt," said Lois. 
 1 
 
 big 
 "It 
 
2 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " Has it any starfish and crabs in it? " asked 
 Hal. 
 
 " No," returned Mr. Bobbins, " but children 
 can swim in it and wade on the sandy shore, 
 and then there are sweet-smelling pine woods to 
 play in, and your mother wants to smell those 
 pines. Don't you think you would like to see a 
 little more of the world, instead of going to the 
 same place every summer?" 
 
 Lois shook her head very decidedly. "No," 
 she replied, "for I know we shall never have 
 such a good time as we do at the seashore." 
 
 Her father smiled. "It is never a wise plan 
 to make up your mind not to have a good time," 
 he said. " That is like turning a bowl upside 
 down. Nothing can run into it, so it stays 
 empty. Keep your bowls right side up, both of 
 you, and you can't tell what jolly things may 
 run into them. Hal, you remember those pic- 
 tures of Indians we were looking at last 
 night?" 
 
 Hal at once became interested. He always 
 wanted to hear all he could about Indians. 
 
 " Well, don't you think it will be pleasant to 
 see that country where the Indians roamed, and 
 led their wild, free life long after they were gone 
 from New England?" 
 
 "What do you mean by holding our bowls 
 right side up ? " asked the little boy. 
 
 "If you are hopeful and cheerful and loving 
 
LOIS AND HAROLD 3 
 
 every morning and all day," replied his father, 
 " you are holding your bowl right side up." 
 
 " Do you think if I do that in Michigan an 
 Indian might fall into it ? " 
 
 His father laughed. "I think the Indians 
 have cleared out from there ; but you will see the 
 trails they used through the woods, the places 
 where their tents stood, the water where their 
 canoes moved so silently, the shores where their 
 moccasins trod so swiftly, and breathe the clear, 
 fine air through which their wild whoops rang 
 as they danced around the camp fire, while the 
 smoke curled up above the tall trees." 
 
 "I say we go, Lois," said Hal, his eyes shin- 
 ing. 
 
 " If the Indians were there now," said his 
 sister, " I think you would run in the other di- 
 rection." 
 
 " No, I wouldn't," returned Hal confidently. 
 " I'd put on one of those great big war bonnets 
 and tell them I wanted to be a brave and live 
 with them, and I think they'd let me ; but I 
 don't think they'd take you, Lois, for they like 
 braves a great deal better than they do squaws." 
 
 " I wouldn't be a squaw," returned Lois. I 
 would be an Indian princess and wear a wonder- 
 ful red mantle with purple stripes and have 
 chains about my neck, and my hair braided and 
 shining, and beautiful bracelets, and they would 
 all bow down to me- and you'd have to, too." 
 
4 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " No, the chief would take me for his son and 
 I should have a wonderful bow, the longest in 
 the tribe, and shoot my arrows so straight that 
 the other Indians would all say ' Ugh ! ugh ! ' 
 That's what they say when they like anything, 
 isn't it, Daddy?" 
 
 "I think it is," returned Mr. Bobbins, and 
 Harold ran to get the Indian book to show his 
 sister how he would look shooting arrows before 
 an admiring tribe, because he had found that 
 picture last night, and it had pleased him very 
 much indeed. He found the picture of a princess 
 for Lois and she liked the looks of the straight- 
 nosed beauty, because her own nose turned up a 
 little, and she thought it would be fine to have 
 such a handsome nose and hold her head so 
 proudly. It was almost impossible to hold one's 
 head proudly if one had a turn-up nose. 
 
 Her father patted her shoulder as he passed 
 her to leave the room. 
 
 " That's right," he said. " Have a good time 
 being a princess this summer, instead of a mer- 
 maid. I'll get you a tent if you want it." 
 
w 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 WENONAH. 
 
 "HEN they took the train to go West to 
 Michigan, Lois and Hal were very much 
 interested in the sleeping car. They 
 had never seen one before, and when their father 
 tucked them into two opposite upper berths that 
 night, they hardly wanted to go to sleep, it was 
 such fun to peek out at each other between the 
 heavy curtains. 
 
 The children's heads were still full of the sub- 
 ject of the Indians. They felt they were on 
 their way to the home of the red man, and Lois 
 said to her father : 
 
 "What would the Indians have thought of 
 these little upstairs beds ? " 
 
 Hal was leaning out into the aisle from his 
 couch. " They'd have said ' Wow ! wow ! ' ' he 
 cried. 
 
 "Softly," suggested his father. "Not only 
 the Indians would have been surprised. Think 
 of the first white people going slowly and pa- 
 tiently across the country in their covered wag- 
 ons, taking weeks to travel over the distance we 
 
6 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 cover in a day. Isn't it wonderful to live now 
 instead of then ? " 
 
 " But that was the most fun/' said Hal. "I've 
 seen pictures of the Indians galloping across the 
 plain to attack the wagons, but the men had 
 their guns and they saved themselves and drove 
 the Indians off." 
 
 Mrs. Robbins had the berth underneath Har- 
 old and she looked out between her curtains. 
 
 " You know the sooner you go to sleep, chil- 
 dren, the sooner you will see Lake Michigan," 
 she said. 
 
 They had always found that their mother 
 knew what she was talking about, and they were 
 eager to see the Indians' lake, so they turned 
 over in their little up-stairs beds and in a sur- 
 prisingly short few minutes it was morning. 
 
 The next night they spent in another sort of 
 little beds, only this time they were on a large 
 steamer on a lake that stretched away as far as 
 they could see, just like the ocean. The chil- 
 dren could scarcely believe that those great 
 waves were not salt. 
 
 "What would an Indian in his little canoe 
 have thought to see a big mountain of a ship 
 like this coming along toward him ? " asked Hal. 
 
 His father shook his head. " The canoes kept 
 near the shore, I suspect. You will see the sort 
 of shore tomorrow." 
 
 When they arrived at their destination 'the 
 
WENONAH 7 
 
 children were pleased to find a sandy beach, 
 and the foaming surf which looked good to wade 
 in. 
 
 They found a little log cabin waiting for them 
 and it was nestled in pine woods on the side of 
 a hill. Their father was busy at the wharf some 
 time about the luggage, and when he arrived at 
 the house he looked at the children with a laugh 
 in his eyes but his lips very sober. 
 
 " What do you think I have just found out ?" 
 he asked when the men had brought the trunks 
 and gone away. 
 
 The children listened eagerly. They liked 
 this forest hill full of Christmas trees, with 
 enough spaces in front of the cabin to look 
 through to the blue lake, and they could hardly 
 wait to hear what their father had to tell them. 
 
 " What is it ? What is it ? " they asked to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Have you been holding your bowls right side 
 up all the morning ? Have they, Mother ? " he 
 asked, turning to his wife, who was examining 
 the way the little windows opened like doors. 
 
 " Yes, they have been very good children," 
 she returned, with her attention on the hinges 
 and fastenings. 
 
 " Very well, then. I must tell you that there 
 is an Indian camp here." 
 
 The eyes of both Lois and Harold became 
 very large. Their father looked serious. 
 
8 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 "Are we going to stay?" asked Hal in a 
 hushed voice. 
 
 " Is it safe ? " asked Lois in the same breath. 
 
 "I think we can risk it," said Mr. Bobbins. 
 
 Hal shook his head. " We'd better each have 
 a gun then/' he said, " because we must sleep 
 some of the time." 
 
 His father laughed and gave both the children 
 a hug. " You keep your bowls right side up and 
 you won't need any guns," he said. " The Indi- 
 ans are like other people in that. They will give 
 you the same sort of treatment you give them." 
 
 " See here, dear, will you ? " said Mrs. Bobbins 
 to her husband. " What is the matter with this 
 catch?" 
 
 "They had better make the windows safe," 
 said Hal to Lois in a low tone. His eyes were 
 still very large. " Come out and see if we can 
 see any smoke." 
 
 The children went outside and peered about 
 among the trees. 
 
 " I think Daddy seems very queer and care- 
 less about this, don't you ? " asked Lois. " They 
 must be tame Indians." 
 
 " They may pretend to be," said Hal, " but I 
 don't see how he can trust them in the night 
 time." 
 
 " See here, children," called their mother from 
 the door, " don't stray away until I get your play 
 clothes out of the trunk." 
 
WENONAH 9 
 
 Lois and Hal went inside and quite silently 
 changed their traveling clothes for tougher gar- 
 ments, then they again went out doors. 
 
 Their parents had bought the children wrist 
 watches in leather straps before coming here, be- 
 cause they knew it was a wild country and it 
 was so hard for them to remember the time of 
 day. The father and mother were very busy 
 now unpacking and settling the little home, so 
 they merely reminded Lois and Hal to remem- 
 ber to be at home by six o'clock. 
 
 " Did you notice how near the hotel is ? " 
 asked Mr. Bobbins, " Come out here." He 
 showed them what they had not observed : a 
 glimpse between the thick trees of a large spread- 
 ing building, built of logs just like their own lit- 
 tle house. 
 
 " So if you get lost just ask somebody to di- 
 rect you to the hotel. Understand ? " 
 
 The children nodded and he went back to his 
 work of hanging a hammock among the trees. 
 Mrs. Bobbins had come West in need of rest, and 
 her husband intended her to live in this ham- 
 mock, as much as possible. 
 
 " I think Daddy acts very queer," said Lois as 
 the two moved slowly away on the narrow for- 
 est path. 
 
 " This looks to me like an Indian trail," said 
 Hal quite gloomily. 
 
 " That is what it is, of course," replied Lois. 
 
10 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " The idea of Daddy saying so coolly if we get 
 lost to ask for the hotel and these woods full 
 of Indians ! " 
 
 " And we begged to go to the seashore, too/' 
 responded Hal. 
 
 They held each other by the hand and moved 
 slowly. The piney air about them was delicious, 
 and every few steps they would get another 
 glimpse of the light blue of the dancing waves. 
 
 "I thought you wanted to see the Indians 
 so much, Hal, and be a ' brave ' " said Lois at 
 last. 
 
 He hesitated a little, but he knew that being 
 a boy he ought to protect his sister, and he felt 
 that she was being disappointed in him. 
 
 " Of course," he began, " if I had a war-bon- 
 net and a bow and arrows but all I have to 
 slap 'em with is a wrist watch." 
 
 Lois started to laugh at this, but her laugh 
 was quickly hushed and she and Hal stopped 
 suddenly and clung more tightly together, for 
 among the trees a dash of scarlet was visible. 
 It was moving swiftly and came toward them. 
 
 They suddenly saw an Indian maiden on 
 whom they gazed with all their eyes. She wore 
 the vivid scarlet mantle with purple stripes that 
 Lois had longed for, and a petticoat embroidered 
 with bright beads. Her long, shining braids 
 hung over her shoulders. Her arms bore heavy 
 bracelets and her silent feet were shod with moo- 
 
WENONAH 11 
 
 casins. She wore a brilliant hued bodice and a 
 narrow gold band passed across her forehead. 
 
 To the children she looked all that was stately 
 and beautiful and commanding as she moved, 
 straight as an arrow, through the forest. They 
 clutched each other, with beating hearts. 
 
 She caught sight of them, and turned and they 
 saw that she carried on her arm a large light 
 basket, containing a few smaller ones made of 
 sweet grass. 
 
 " You like to buy some baskets ? " she asked, 
 and wonder of wonders she smiled upon them, 
 and drew nearer. 
 
 Lois found her voice after a minute. It had 
 seemed to be buried somewhere deep down, per- 
 haps in her stomach it felt queer. 
 
 " We haven't any money," she said, hoping 
 the announcement would not bring down the 
 wrath of the beautiful being. 
 
 But the stranger only nodded pleasantly. 
 
 " The little boy would like some bow and ar- 
 rows, perhaps?" She fixed a bright gaze on 
 Hal, whose knees were trying not to wobble. 
 
 " Yes, I would " he said rather breathlessly, 
 " some day when when I have some money." 
 
 "You come, see what we have," said the 
 maiden, and the children, still clasping hands, 
 followed her stately tread. 
 
 They exchanged a look. She was doubtless 
 luring them to the camp where the braves were 
 
12 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 perhaps at the present moment doing a war dance 
 about a fire. If they turned back, however, and 
 refused, she might be angry ; so they followed 
 on and determined to be so polite that no one, 
 not even Indians, could be offended with them. 
 
 They had not gone far when the canvas of a 
 few tents came into view. A wigwam stood in 
 the center of the group and half a dozen In- 
 dians in native dress and shining hair that hung 
 on their shoulders were moving about. 
 
 The Indian maiden turned and gave the chil- 
 dren another smile, and the indifference of the 
 other Indian faces soothed their timidity. She 
 led them to the wigwam which proved to be a 
 show-room for the wares they had to sell. 
 There were baskets of every shape and size, lit- 
 tle birch bark canoes, bows and arrows, napkin 
 rings and many other trinkets made of birch 
 bark or sweet grass. 
 
 "I shall tell my father and mother about 
 these," said Lois, " I'm sure they will let us have 
 
 some." 
 
 " Have you any war bonnets ? " asked Hal. 
 
 " Yes, we have, but my people keep them for 
 festival days," replied the Indian girl. 
 
 She spoke such good Engish and the other In- 
 dians, men and women, took so little notice of 
 the children that they both decided in their own 
 minds that there would not be any danger, even 
 in the night. 
 
WENONAH 13 
 
 Their guide, noticing the eagerness with which 
 they gazed at her, invited them to her own tent. 
 
 "We never saw any Indians before," said 
 Hal. " We live in Boston." 
 
 "Well, it is pleasant to travel," replied the 
 girl, and she led them to one of the tents and took 
 them inside. There was a bed and a wash-stand 
 and two chairs in it, but above all there was a 
 delicious odor which they inhaled as if they 
 could not get enough of it. 
 
 " That is the dried sweet grass," said the 
 maiden. " I make the baskets with that." She 
 dropped the large light basket off her arm. " I 
 take them to the hotel every afternoon, after the 
 ladies take their naps," she smiled again at the 
 children. " They feel very bright and happy 
 then, and they buy my baskets. See how few I 
 have brought back ? Then in the mornings I 
 work." 
 
 " 0, may we see you do it sometime ? " 
 
 "Certainly you may. I am going to finish 
 one now. There is one chair for the little girl 
 and for the boy there is the floor." She gave 
 Hal one of her bright smiles as she said it, and 
 he dropped down, watching the strange, dark 
 being with admiring eyes. Among the men In- 
 dians he had not seen one who fulfilled his idea 
 of a "Brave " but this maid was more beautiful 
 than any Indian Princess he had imagined. 
 
 " Now let us know all of our names," said the 
 
14 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 maiden as she seated herself and pulled toward 
 her the unfinished basket, upon which she began 
 to weave. 
 
 " My name is Harold, but they call me Hal, 
 because my father's name is Harold, and my 
 mother likes to know us apart ; and my sister's 
 name is Lois. Please tell us yours." 
 
 The Indian girl smiled at her work. "My 
 name is Wenonah. I went to a great school 
 down in Virginia and there a teacher showed me 
 the poem of Hiawatha. I have the name of his 
 beautiful mother." 
 
 "I like it," said Hal promptly. 
 
 "So do I," added Lois. 
 
 " Then we all know each other now," said the 
 girl. " Quick, that ship going by ! Isn't it a 
 picture ? " 
 
 They looked through the avenue of pines that 
 led to the beach and were just in time to see the 
 white sails of a yacht flying like a great white 
 bird past the opening. 
 
 " We have to taste of that water to see if it 
 truly isn't salt," said Lois. 
 
 " Can you swim? " asked her new friend. 
 
 " We are learning to." 
 
 "Ah, that is good for the mothers." Weno- 
 nah gave Hal a mischievous nod. " Little boys 
 sometimes do not like their bath. It is too much 
 trouble." 
 
 Lois laughed. "How did you guess that?" 
 
WENONAH 15 
 
 she asked. " We go barefooted in summer and 
 at night Hal always makes a fuss about washing 
 his dusty feet." 
 
 Hal looked rather shamefacedly down at the 
 shoes he had not yet discarded for the season. 
 
 "I knew a boy once who felt that way. 
 Something strange happened to him." 
 
 The children pricked up their ears. 
 
 " Would you mind telling us about it? " asked 
 Lois, if there were any stories under that gold 
 band that went around Wenonah's forehead, they 
 were eager to have them. 
 
 " Was he an Indian ? " asked Hal. 
 
 " No, he was a white boy. I'll tell you about 
 him." 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 DUSTY FEET. 
 
 TOU never saw a kinder, sweeter woman 
 than Joe's mother. His name was Joseph 
 but of course nobody called him that. 
 He was a jolly, happy boy with lots of freckles 
 on his nose, and one reason he was so happy, 
 though he never stopped to think about that, 
 was that he had such a kind mother. 
 
 He lived on a farm, and his short trousers 
 were held on by one suspender, as barefooted, he 
 ran about from morning until night. Plenty of 
 other boys came to play with him and one reason 
 was that the kind mother nearly always had 
 time, with all her work, to stop and spread a 
 thick slice of bread and butter for a boy to eat. 
 
 "Dear little fellows, they're growing," she 
 Would say to herself, whenever Joe asked. 
 
 He and the other boys went fishing in the 
 creek and played they were Indians in the woods. 
 They climbed on the barn roof ; they ran swift 
 express trains, and when Joe had his chores to 
 do there was usually some boy ready to help him 
 do them. 
 
 16 
 
DUSTY FEET 17 
 
 He had to feed the pigs, squealing under the 
 barn, and at evening go to fetch the cows. After 
 such an active day it is no wonder that after 
 supper every night Joe soon became drowsy. 
 
 While his mother washed the supper dishes he 
 would get into a big calico covered arm chair, 
 and those legs that had ,run about so busily all 
 day long would feel as if they couldn't move, 
 and his eyes would blink and stare, and close, 
 before he knew it. 
 
 When her work was done his mother would 
 say, ".Come, Joe, come now. It is time to wash 
 your feet and get ready for bed." 
 
 And Joe would pull his eyes open and stretch, 
 and say, "0, Ma, why do I have to wash my 
 feet every night ? " 
 
 Day after day those nimble feet of Joe's 
 stepped into all sorts of places all over the farm, 
 and night after night he argued for a long time 
 before he would wash them. 
 
 One evening when his mother had put all her 
 clean dishes away she went over to the arm 
 chair and Joe was so sound asleep that her gen- 
 tle shaking did not wake him ; so she just smiled 
 down on him in that very nice way mothers have 
 and decided to have pity on the child. 
 
 She threw a large apron over him and blowing 
 out the lamp, left him to spend the night in the 
 big, soft old chair. 
 
 Very early in the morning Joe woke up, 
 
18 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 cramped in his small quarters, and rather cold ; 
 so he crept upstairs and crawled into bed with- 
 out disturbing anyone, and without washing his 
 feet. 
 
 When morning came and the family had eaten 
 breakfast, Joe's busy mother said nothing about 
 last evening, and he rushed out to play without 
 worrying his head about yesterday's dust; for 
 this was vacation time and Joe knew that the 
 end of it would soon come, and back to school he 
 must go. So he and his playmates worked as 
 hard as ever, playing ball, and climbing trees 
 and leap frogging over each others' backs, and 
 eating any quantity of bread and butter. 
 
 Of course that night he was again very drowsy 
 and when his mother called him to get ready for 
 bed, he remembered the evening before and how 
 he had slept half the night under the old apron, 
 and how he had not washed his feet. He be- 
 came quite wide awake thinking about it, and 
 he began to picture a heaven where boys whose 
 legs were too heavy to move at night would 
 never hear anyone remind them to scrub the 
 dust off their ten toes. He began to try to 
 think of a way to make such a heaven ; and a 
 plan came into his head. 
 
 So while his mother was finishing the dishes 
 and calling him to go, he staggered out of his 
 chair, and seeming to be half asleep and half 
 awake stumbled into the front room where the 
 
DUSTY FEET 19 
 
 sofa was, and with a groan of fatigue he fell 
 upon its soft old springs and stretched himself 
 out. 
 
 He thought he knew what would happen, and 
 sure enough it really did. The kind mother, 
 coming in later found him enjoying such a deep, 
 peaceful sleep that she hadn't the heart to waken 
 the boy and make him go and put his feet into 
 cold water. She shivered a little herself, just to 
 think of it. So she covered him up carefully 
 with a shawl and left him. 
 
 A very strange thing happened then. Joe 
 found that he was not lying on the sofa at all, 
 but on a bench in a beautiful garden. Who had 
 such a garden in their neighborhood ? He knew 
 he had never seen it before and he gazed about 
 at the nodding lilies and the roses that climbed 
 high on a lattice, just as they did in a picture 
 book he had. There were paths leading about 
 this garden and small blue flowers grew thickly 
 along their edges. 
 
 Joe was wonderfully comfortable and happy in 
 the midst of so much beauty, and he lay there 
 looking at the bees seeking for honey in the 
 flower cups, and the butterflies that played to- 
 gether in the air, and alighted on the flowers, 
 sipping the dew, while they opened and closed 
 their golden wings. 
 
 Suddenly there came into sight a lovely little 
 girl, strolling along the path toward him. Joe 
 
20 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 was so surprised and delighted to see her that he 
 sat right up. He remembered her well. She 
 was the girl whom he had seen ride, standing on 
 a milk white horse in the circus a few weeks ago. 
 that proud horse, with his fine arched neck, 
 and 0, the wonderful girl in the white, lacy 
 dress, and the gold star on her forehead ! How 
 fearlessly she had smiled. To think that she 
 should be here ! 
 
 She was smiling now at the flowers as she 
 strolled along, and butterflies circled around that 
 golden star as it gleamed in -the sunlight. Her 
 lacy dress blew in the summer breeze, just as it 
 had in her flight on the milk white horse. 
 
 Joe sat up and gazed and gazed. He could 
 hardly wait to tell her how glad he was she had 
 come, and ask her if he might ride once on her 
 wonderful horse. He was springing up to go to 
 meet her, when a fairy suddenly appeared from 
 the lily-bell near him. The fairy had wings 
 brighter than the butterflies, and a blue-bell was 
 perched on his saucy head. 
 
 At least he seemed saucy to Joe, for he waved 
 him back with the wand in his tiny hand, with 
 as much an air of authority as if he had been six 
 feet tall. 
 
 " But I want to speak to her," said Joe, " I 
 want to play with her." 
 
 The little girl had come quite near now, and 
 she heard this. Her smiling face grew very 
 
DUSTY FEET 21 
 
 sober as she looked at him, and she shook her 
 head. 
 
 " No, I must never play with boys with dusty 
 feet," she said, and lifting the gold star on her 
 forehead very high, she passed down another 
 flowery path and disappeared. 
 
 The fairy smiled (he looked mischievous) and 
 waved his wand. In a second, Joe was standing 
 in the middle of a big puddle of sticky mud. 
 His face grew red with shame and disappoint- 
 ment and he felt tears pressing hard at the back 
 of his eyes, but of course he could not be a cry 
 baby. 
 
 The mud seemed to get tangled with strings 
 and they got in between his toes when he tried 
 to pull his feet out, and then he saw that it was 
 his mother's apron that was all smeared with 
 mud, and turning around in distress he saw her 
 shawl ; the very one she had thrown over him 
 on the sofa. He tried to get free of the black 
 stickiness and step over on to the shawl when 
 his toes trod on something that felt like an old 
 shoe, and how he did wish for his shoes and 
 stockings ! 
 
 Suddenly he felt cold and shivered. The mud 
 turned into snow, and his feet were so cold that 
 he tried to wriggle his toes and found he 
 couldn't. They were numb. He couldn't feel 
 that he had any toes ; and just then the beauti- 
 ful little girl came walking slowly back, and 0, 
 
22 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 how he felt, standing there, splashed with the 
 mud he had spattered all over himself trying to 
 get out of the puddle. 
 
 He must not cry, for that would be worse than 
 being dirty. She might think he was in the dirt 
 by accident, but no accident would excuse a boy 
 for crying. 
 
 She stood there, looking at him, not scornfully 
 as before, but with a pitying, kindly look, and 
 all at once she began to float up from the ground. 
 
 She poised, suspended in the air, leaning over 
 him with such sweet sadness in her gentle eyes 
 that he became frightened and awoke with a 
 start. 
 
 It was morning and his mother was gazing 
 down on him with her kind smile. 
 
 He looked up sheepishly and blinked his eyes. 
 " Mother dear," he said, and he reached up for 
 her hand, " I guess I forgot to wash my feet." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 BASKET MAKING. 
 
 WHEN the children reached home they 
 were much excited. 
 
 " We've found a gentle Indian," cried 
 Hal. 
 
 " And she's a princess and her name is Weno- 
 nah," added Lois. 
 
 " Did she tell you she was a princess? " asked 
 their mother. 
 
 " No, but she surely is," said Lois fervently. 
 " She has a princess's clothes and a gold crown ; 
 and the most wonderful thing is I wished for 
 her. I could see the sky from my bed last night 
 and when I saw the first star I wished the way 
 I always do : 
 
 " Starlight, Star bright. 
 First star I've seen tonight, 
 Wish you may, wish you might 
 Give me the wish I wish tonight." 
 
 and I wished for an Indian princess." 
 
 " Yes, she did, because she told me so coming 
 
 home," said Hal earnestly. 
 
 " And to think she was waiting here and she 
 
 23 
 
24 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 can talk English as well as you do," said Lois. 
 " She makes baskets and sells them at the hotel." 
 
 And there wasn't any tomahawk in her tent, 
 because I looked," said Hal, " and the other In- 
 dians all looked so tame, I don't believe they 
 have any, either." 
 
 " She told us a story," said Lois. She looked 
 at her brother and laughed, " It was about a 
 boy who didn't like to wash his feet." 
 
 "I don't care," returned Hal, growing red, 
 ** Perhaps she can tell another story about a girl 
 who doesn't like to make beds." 
 
 " A story already," said their father, "Well, 
 I think those bowls of yours must have been 
 right side up. We must go and visit her .High- 
 ness and buy a basket," 
 
 " I'm going to help her carry them to the ho- 
 tel," said Hal who had very much liked the In- 
 dian girl with the flashing smile, and the clothes 
 like the bright plumage of a bird. 
 
 " I shall go, too," said Lois. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bobbins looked at one another 
 and smiled. The children's earnestness and their 
 red cheeks showed them that it would be a good 
 plan to make a visit to the dusky maiden with 
 whom Lois and Hal were wishing to spend so 
 much time. 
 
 So the next day the children, escorted by their 
 parents, went to the camp and the Indians were 
 very much pleased to see them, because they 
 
BASKET MAKING 25 
 
 called for Wenonah. and she took them to the wig- 
 wam, where they bought a number of the pretty 
 wares for the children and themselves. 
 
 Then they went back to Wenonah' s tent with 
 her, and watched her weave the sweet grass into 
 the basket she was making. She told them of 
 the school she had attended, and how she had 
 come home and helped her people to better ways 
 of living. She said they made a great store of 
 their goods during the winter, then in summer 
 went to the resorts and sold them. The weav- 
 ing they did here did not amount to much, ex- 
 cept to show the ladies and gentlemen how the 
 baskets were made, and to give them lessons 
 when they wished. 
 
 " How would you children like to take lessons 
 in basket making ? " asked their father. 
 
 Lois and Hal eagerly replied that they would 
 like it very much. 
 
 " They could not manage the fine work at 
 first," said Wenonah. "I have the coarser raf- 
 fia for them." 
 
 So that is how the children came to take les- 
 sons in basket making. Their parents were not 
 willing that they should go to the hotel to help 
 sell the pretty things, so while Wenonah was 
 busy there, they ' played on the beach or in the 
 woods and sometimes went sailing with their fa- 
 ther. 
 
 If Wenonah had been a white maiden they 
 
26 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 would have enjoyed being with her, for she was 
 gentle and patient and liked fun too, but with 
 her dark features, shining braids of hair, and si- 
 lent moocasins, and the stately grace with which 
 she moved about through the woods, they 
 thought her the most charming person they had 
 ever known. 
 
 Of course, sitting in the door of Wenonah's 
 tent with the billows of the lake glinting among 
 the trees and the fresh breeze blowing, was a 
 very pleasant way to learn basket making ; and 
 their clumsy little hands were kindly guided by 
 the slender, dark, clever fingers of their teacher. 
 
 Of course when the children were well started 
 on their work it occurred to them that Wenonah 
 might tell them another story, and Lois, feeling 
 so well acquainted with her now, told her how 
 she had wished on the first star that night on 
 the steamer, and the Indian girl thought the 
 wishing verse amusing, so Lois taught it to her, 
 proud to think that she could teach the princess 
 something. 
 
 " I shall wish every night after this," said 
 Wenonah. " I wonder if that might be the rea- 
 son there is so often a star on the end of a 
 fairy's wand." 
 
 " Is there one ? " asked both the children at 
 once. 
 
 " Yes, usually. You see, the wand gives them 
 everything they want, and perhaps it is the star 
 
BASKET MAKING 27 
 
 that does it. I don't know, though/' said We- 
 nonah, looking thoughtfully at the sweet grass 
 she was weaving and which made the tent smell 
 like a field of new-mown hay. "The wand 
 that Peter found had no star on it." 
 
 "What Peter?" asked Hal. 
 
 " What wand ? " asked Lois. ' 
 
 So, of course, Wenonah, being very polite and 
 obliging, began to tell them about it. 
 
w 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 THE WAND. 
 
 "HAT a pleasant thing it is to be able to 
 say of a boy, He is the strongest boy in 
 the village or the most honest boy in 
 the village or the kindest boy in the village 
 or, nicest of all, He is the best boy in the vil- 
 lage ; and what a sad thing it is to say of a boy, 
 He is the worst boy in the village ; and that is 
 what everybody said of Peter. 
 
 He was a tease and a bully and a bully is 
 always a coward, you know. The little girls at 
 school avoided him. They never knew what 
 minute he would pull their hair, or stick out his 
 foot suddenly and trip them up. 
 
 The animals feared him, and the meanest 
 thing a boy can do, even worse than pulling a 
 little girl's hair, is to be unkind to animals, or 
 even to tease them. No boy who likes to play 
 fair will do it ; for animals cannot speak, or de- 
 fend themselves. 
 
 Peter's dog wanted to love him, as dogs al- 
 ways do, but he couldn't trust his master. 
 When they went out together, the dog, whose 
 name was Pat, followed at a little distance. He 
 
 28 
 
THE WAND 29 
 
 wanted to go with Peter, but lie was afraid of 
 the heavy shoe that could suddenly fly out and 
 hurt him. 
 
 So Peter lost all the best part of life by being 
 sulky and dishonest and spending his time think- 
 ing up mischievous things to do. There was 
 another boy in the village where Peter lived 
 whom he especially disliked. This boy's name 
 was Lawrence, and the reason Peter hated him 
 was that although smaller than himself, Law- 
 rence had once or twice jumped to the defence 
 of some girl or boy whom Peter was hurting, 
 and driven the bigger boy off with his fists. 
 
 Peter was scowling and thinking about Law- 
 rence one day as he was trudging along the 
 dusty road, Pat following at a safe distance. 
 The dog was hoping that pretty soon his master 
 wouldn't look so cross and that he would dare to 
 go closer. Once in a while when Peter felt good- 
 natured he used to throw sticks for Pat to run 
 after and bring back, and Pat loved that. 
 
 Well, Peter trudged along with his hands in 
 his pockets, but not whistling as happy boys do. 
 His eyes were on the dusty road as he thought 
 about Lawrence and wished he could beat him. 
 He had once found a penny as he walked along 
 this road and he was thinking about that, too, 
 and wishing he could find another. He began 
 to wonder what he would buy with it if he could 
 find one. 
 
30 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 All at once he noticed a shining little object 
 lying by the roadside. He went toward it and 
 Pat noticed his movement and saw as quickly as 
 Peter did that the shining object was a little 
 stick. The dog's ears and tail went up gladly. 
 If Peter was going to pick up a stick, that meant 
 that he would throw it and they would have a 
 game. Pat ran in front of Peter and got in his 
 way and the impatient boy gave him a kick. 
 
 Down went Pat's ears and tail, and crying out, 
 he ran away to a safe distance, while Peter 
 stooped to the strange, small, shining object. 
 It was very smooth and looked like silver. It 
 was probably more valuable than a penny, and 
 the boy picked it up. He would hide it and 
 wait to see if he could hear anything of the 
 owner, and then make him pay a good price for 
 it. 
 
 Peter's eyes shone with satisfaction at this 
 thought, and he picked up"] the silver stick. It 
 was different from anything he had ever seen 
 and he wondered what its owner used it for. 
 
 He had no sooner grasped it and stood up 
 than he began to sail gently up into the air. 
 He was so astonished that his eyes nearly fell 
 out; but it was pleasant, too, to be wafted 
 gently up and up as if he were a fluff of thistle- 
 down instead of a clumsy country boy with the 
 heavy shoes that poor Pat feared. 
 
 Little by little the road and trees and houses 
 
THE WAND Si 
 
 and barns and broad fields below him faded out 
 of sight. " How far can I go ? " wondered 
 Peter, and he grasped the satin-smooth little 
 stick closer than ever. He felt sure that if he 
 dropped it he would go to the earth with a 
 bump that would give him a severe headache; 
 for surely his rise in the world must have had 
 something to do with this shining thing which 
 gleamed now between his brown, and not very- 
 clean, fingers. 
 
 He looked at it as he sailed, and suddenly 
 there came to him a remembrance of stories he 
 had heard in the village about fairies fairies 
 with wands. Yes, every fairy had a wand, and 
 by waving this wand he could go everywhere 
 and get everything he wanted. 
 
 "I wonder if I'm a fairy now," muttered 
 Peter, " that I feel so light. Have I got wings, 
 and am I flying ? " 
 
 He looked over the shoulder of his old, brown 
 coat, but there were no signs of wings there. 
 
 " Still, this must be a wand," said Peter to 
 himself, " and I'll see if I can get anything with 
 it." 
 
 The earth had vanished completely now, so 
 he held out the silver stick and said, " I'm tired 
 of standing up. I wish I had a nice, soft cloud 
 to sit on." 
 
 No sooner had he made the wish than a 
 lovely cloud floated toward him. It looked like 
 
32 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 a bank of swansdown. He climbed into it and 
 sank luxuriously into the softness and lay there 
 and wondered, looking at his shining treasure. 
 
 While he was musing he became conscious 
 that he was not alone on the cloud ; and raising 
 himself on his elbow he looked down to the 
 next terrace of fleecy white, and there sat the 
 most charming little fairy you would care to 
 see. Peter noticed at once that she carried a 
 wand like his own, and that her wings, so thin 
 and airy, yet looked strong enough to carry her 
 slight figure. 
 
 She smiled up at him. " I'm so glad I found 
 you, Peter," she said in a sweet voice. " I told 
 Rose-Petal that I was sure I could, and that you 
 would be glad to bring back her wand." 
 
 "Who is Rose-Petal?" asked Peter, gazing 
 admiringly at his companion, who certainly 
 could not have looked prettier anywhere than 
 she did on that pure, fleecy-white cloud bank. 
 
 " Rose-Petal is the fairy who owns the wand 
 you have. She lost it last night at a fire-fly 
 ball, and though the fire-flies were very kind and 
 held their lanterns and flew about looking every- 
 where they could think of, they couldn't find it. 
 Rose-Petal is down beside the dusty road, now, 
 where it is so hot that she feels as if she were 
 wilting ; so I know you won't keep her waiting." 
 
 The fairy sent another sweet and coaxing 
 stoile up at Peter but he frowned. 
 
THE WAND 33 
 
 " It's queer that a fellow can't get away from 
 people even if he climbs up on a cloud miles 
 away from the earth," he said ; for the last 
 thing he was willing to do was to give back the 
 wand to Rose-Petal. 
 
 "How did you find me?" he added, "and 
 what is your name ? " 
 
 " My name is Lily-bud, and I found you very 
 easily, only I must say that if I had not seen 
 Rose-Petal's wand in your hand I would have 
 thought it was the wrong person." 
 
 "Well, it is the wrong person," said Peter 
 crossly. " This wand is mine." 
 
 The fairy nodded sadly. " 0, yes," she re- 
 plied, " I see the Wise Woman was right. She 
 said you told lies ! " 
 
 "You want to be careful how you talk to 
 me," said Peter very loud, and growing red in 
 the face. " A little more and I'll knock you off 
 this cloud." 
 
 Lily-bud laughed, and I can't tell you how 
 pretty she looked when she laughed, because 
 her tiny face had the sweetest dimple in one 
 cheek and her blue eyes laughed, too. 
 
 Her gauzy wings opened and closed as a but- 
 terfly's will when it is resting on a flower. 
 
 " What difference would that make, you poor 
 Peter ? " she said. 
 
 Peter scowled because her manner and her 
 words made him feel even smaller than she was. 
 
34 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 "How did you find me, anyway?" he 
 growled. 
 
 " 0, I went to the Wise Woman under the 
 hill. We fairies always go to her when we 
 have a hard question; and we never had a 
 harder one than this, for Rose-Petal is the first 
 fairy I ever knew to lose her wand." 
 
 Lily-bud's smile vanished and Peter saw her 
 lip tremble. 
 
 " Think of her down there, huddling near the 
 root of a big tree. Supposing someone should 
 step on her ! " 
 
 "Why doesn't she fly up to a safe place 
 then?" asked Peter sullenly. Lily-bud's lip 
 might tremble all it wanted to, he was nut going 
 to give up his precious, shiny stick. 
 
 " Because without her wand her wings won't 
 work," explained Lily-bud. 
 
 " What did that old, stupid Wise Woman tell 
 you?" asked Peter. He was very cross at 
 being found. 
 
 " She told me that Peter had found the wand 
 and that he was the sort of boy who would not 
 be willing to give it back, no matter how much 
 Rose-Petal suffered." 
 
 Peter laughed. "She is a wise old thing, 
 then," he said. 
 
 " I told her I couldn't believe it, for didn't all 
 boys take care of girls? She said no, not all 
 boys, and that Peter was one of the worst. He 
 
THE WAND 35 
 
 teased girls and hurt them and so he was a 
 coward. He teased animals and hurt them and 
 so he was a coward. He robbed the eggs out of 
 birds' nests, and threw stones at the birds with 
 a slingshot, and so he was a coward. He kicked 
 his own dog that loved him, and so he was a 
 coward." 
 
 Peter listened to all this and grew so hot and 
 angry that he couldn't speak. Besides the 
 anger, there was a very uncomfortable feeling in 
 his breast. It came from the look of disgust in 
 Lily-bud's eyes as they were fixed on him with- 
 out any fear. 
 
 "If you were washed," she said, "and your 
 shoes blacked, you wouldn't be bad looking. I 
 should never think, just to look at you, that 
 you were such a poor wretch." 
 
 Peter felt scarlet from head to foot. 
 
 " Once more," said Lily-bud. " I'll ask you 
 once more to think of beautiful, bright Rose- 
 Petal suffocating beside the dusty road, and ask 
 you to give back her wand." 
 
 Peter was so ashamed that his ears burned 
 and he couldn't meet Lily-bud's eyes, but he 
 shook his head. 
 
 Lily-bud, without another word, rose lightly 
 to the tips of her dainty toes, spread her gauzy 
 wings, and flew off: the cloud and was soon out 
 of sight. 
 
 Peter was glad she was gone. What differ- 
 
36 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 ence did it make to him what was thought of 
 him by two fairies and an old crone of a Wise 
 Woman? He had the wand. That was the 
 main thing ; for he had power now to do what 
 he pleased, and the thing he was most anxious 
 to do was to pay back Lawrence for interfering 
 with him and spoiling his fun. 
 
 He waved the wand now and asked to go 
 back to earth. He rose to the tips of his coarse 
 shoes and at once floated gently off the cloud 
 and began the descent. 
 
 The pleasant, cool air fanned him and seemed 
 to bear him up on the charming journey. Soon 
 the earth came into view and after awhile he 
 began to recognize familiar objects, and after a 
 bit he alighted at the very spot from which he 
 had arisen. 
 
 " I like flying," he said to himself. " I shall 
 do that every day." 
 
 Pat was running about, nosing the ground 
 and peering into every nook and cranny in won- 
 der where his master had disappeared. Had 
 Pat been a boy he would have been very glad to 
 have such a master disappear and would hope 
 never to see him again ; but dogs are different. 
 Is it any wonder they are called the friends of 
 man, when such treatment as Pat received can- 
 not destroy their affection? One should be 
 most kind to such faithful creatures. Don't 
 you think so ? 
 
THE WAND 37 
 
 Well, Peter walked along in a very lordly 
 way, feeling as if he owned the earth, and twirl- 
 ing the little stick that twinkled in the sunlight, 
 and which was going to make him succeed in 
 everything he wanted to do. He gave no 
 thought to Kose-Petal hiding herself, dusty and 
 forlorn, between the tree roots so that no one 
 should step on her. 
 
 Pat recognized him and approached timidly 
 and slowly, looking at his master out of the 
 tops of his eyes. 
 
 "Hello, Pat," said Peter in the height of his 
 good nature, and with a bound the happy dog 
 was beside him, even daring to give one little 
 jump up on him to tell him how glad he was 
 that Peter wasn't lost. 
 
 He looked at the stick and wondered if his 
 master was going to throw it for him to chase ; 
 but no, indeed, Peter would run no such risk 
 of losing the wand. 
 
 " Besides," he thought, and the thought made 
 him laugh, " if Pat should pick up this stick, he 
 might float up into the sky and live with the 
 dog-star forever, for he wouldn't know enough 
 to ask to come down." 
 
 It made Pat so happy to hear his master 
 laugh that he frolicked about as if he had never 
 heard an unkind word in his life. 
 
 Peter even began humming a tune as he 
 walked along, still twirling the stick. The 
 
38 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 forest bordered the road, and his eye caught 
 sight of a handsome red-winged blackbird swing- 
 ing on a bough. His eyes gleamed. It was 
 such a beauty. He hurriedly picked up a stone. 
 
 " Hit the mark, Stone/' he ordered gaily, and 
 threw it with sure aim. In a minute he would 
 have those wings to stick in his cap. 
 
 He ran forward toward the tree, when a won- 
 derful thing happened. That little stone turned 
 around in the air, and flying back at Peter 
 struck him on the cheek with such a smart blow 
 that a tiny trickle of blood ran down. 
 
 "Who did that? Who did that?" cried 
 Peter, thinking at once of Lawrence and looking 
 all around. He struck at Pat, but the dog 
 avoided the blow. 
 
 The bird flew swiftly away, singing, " Foolish 
 Peter, Foolish Peter," as he went. 
 
 It astonished the boy to understand the bird's 
 song, but he was still so busy hunting for Law- 
 rence, dodging behind some tree, that he did not 
 pay much attention to it. Everything that 
 happened to him lately was strange. 
 
 He walked along the road, his hand to his 
 cheek. After awhile he came to the village 
 square where the horse pond was. Many chil- 
 dren he knew were there, and among them Law- 
 rence. 
 
 "Aha, you ran faster than I did," muttered 
 Peter, "but I will get even with you all the same." 
 
THE WAND 39 
 
 Pat felt his mood, and came sedately after 
 him, his tail hanging limply close to his hind legs. 
 
 Peter waved his shining wand and said, "I 
 want Lawrence ducked in the horse pond/' and 
 he set himself to laugh at the other boy when 
 he should see him struggling in the pond. 
 
 Instantly there was a splash, but it was Peter 
 who was floundering in the water, choking and 
 coughing and making great ado because he 
 couldn't swim. 
 
 The children all gathered around, and because 
 each of them had some unpleasant memory of 
 Peter, they laughed even while some of them 
 tried to help him. He was a funny object, 
 kicking and spluttering and clutching the water, 
 with his hair in his eyes. 
 
 " Here, Peter, hang on," said Lawrence, and 
 bracing himself by holding to a post, he offered 
 his foot to Peter, who managed to get hold of it 
 and pull himself to the edge where he could 
 climb out. 
 
 "Here you, keep out of that pond," said a 
 man coming near and speaking angrily. " Don't 
 you know enough not to try to swim in there ?" 
 
 Peter crept away, dripping, from the laughter 
 of the children, and Pat followed him close. 
 
 " Foolish Peter. Foolish Peter," sang a voice 
 again. This time there was no bird and he 
 thought it sounded like Lily-bud's voice, it was 
 so small and sweet. 
 
40 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " How did I happen to trip and fall in there/' 
 the boy wondered as he hurried along. 
 
 The worst part of it was being helped out by 
 Lawrence, and Lawrence had laughed too, 
 laughed harder than anybody when Peter was 
 safe on the ground, looking like a drowned rat. 
 
 " Foolish Peter," repeated the voice. " You 
 might have made all those children love you, 
 then nobody would have laughed at your 
 troubles." 
 
 He hurried along, past the market wagons, 
 and a horse accidentally hit him, turning his 
 head, Peter drew back his foot to kick the 
 horse, as he did Pat ; and suddenly he received 
 a kick in his own leg, so severe that it made 
 him jump. He was sure, too, that he heard the 
 horse say : " Foolish Peter," as he shook his 
 head. 
 
 The boy hurried the faster, too blind with 
 anger and with the water still dripping from his 
 hair, to care where he was going. He saw that 
 Pat was following on. There was one good 
 thing about Pat. He couldn't laugh, and he 
 couldn't talk and lecture him. 
 
 " Where was that Lily-bud, following him and 
 nagging him ? " He looked all about, but noth- 
 ing was to be seen except the country road. 
 His leg ached from the kick he had meant to 
 give the horse, and his clothes stuck to him. 
 
 Ahead of him he now saw a huge, coarse 
 
THE WAND 41 
 
 bramble bush growing by the side of the road. 
 Peter regarded it eagerly and looked about to 
 see if he had lost the wand in the pond. No, 
 there it was. It had fallen into a side-pocket 
 and was glittering there. 
 
 Some one had fired a stone at him, he had 
 tripped and fallen into the horse pond, and 
 somebody hiding under a market wagon had 
 kicked him, but here he was safe. He was the 
 only person on the road, and the thorns on that 
 bramble bush would stop Lawrence's laughing 
 for some time anyway. Peter would sit here 
 close to it by the roadside and laugh at him to 
 his heart's content. 
 
 He took out the wand and waved it. " I wish 
 Lawrence was in the middle of that bramble 
 bush," he said. 
 
 Suddenly something began to scratch him like 
 
 thousand pins and he found himself in the 
 midst of the brambles, which at every move 
 made him squeal as he was scratched in a new 
 place. 
 
 Before he managed to get out of that tor- 
 menting bush, Peter was a thoroughly fright- 
 ened and suffering boy. Pat leaped about in 
 distress and even made his own mouth sore try- 
 ing to pull away the brambles so his master 
 could escape. 
 
 At last Peter was free, and rolling to a safe 
 spot on the grass, he set himself to pull out 
 
42 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 some of the thorns that stuck in his flesh. 
 As he did so Pat licked the hurt places on his 
 master's legs and arms and this, with the sight 
 of the wounds on the dog's own lips, which he 
 had suffered in trying to help Peter, brought 
 tears to the boy's eyes. He put his arms a- 
 round Pat, and the dog licked his master's cheek 
 in his happiness. 
 
 "Wise Peter," said a voice, "Now there is 
 hope." 
 
 Peter looked up and there sat Lily-bud sway- 
 ing on a purple thistle. She smiled very kindly 
 at the boy. 
 
 " You've had a hard time, haven't you ? " she 
 said. 
 
 Peter nodded. He was trying to stop the 
 bleeding of Pat's lips with the edge of his soft, 
 wet shirt. "I wish I had never kicked my 
 dog," he said. 
 
 At that Lily-bud's face grew very happy. 
 " Do you begin to see that you didn't understand 
 how to use Rose-Petal's wand ? " she asked. 
 
 Peter felt too crushed to speak. He shook 
 his head. 
 
 "You see," explained Lily-bud, "that wand 
 belongs to a good fairy." 
 
 Peter looked up at her and the truth began to 
 come to him slowly. Lily-bud smiled and sat 
 on her purple cushion and swayed, and let him 
 think. 
 
THE WAND 43 
 
 " Then I suppose it would cure Pat's mouth/' 
 he said eagerly, at last. 
 
 She nodded. " Try it/' she answered. 
 
 Peter waved the glittering stick in his 
 scratched hand. "I want Pat's mouth to be 
 well," he said, and instantly the dog yawned 
 and licked his chops with satisfaction, for they 
 were as whole and comfortable as ever they were. 
 
 Peter gave him a hug. " How about my arms 
 and legs ? " he asked then, rather shamefaced. 
 
 Lily-bud shook her head. "Pat got his 
 scratches in love," she said; and Peter looked 
 off and began to think some more. 
 
 As soon as he dropped his hand from the dog, 
 Pat would tuck his head under it again. It was 
 so wonderful to have his master pet him. He 
 couldn't get enough of it. 
 
 "Isn't it strange," said Lily-bud, "how much 
 happiness children are willing to miss by not 
 being kind ? Do you think that ducking Law- 
 rence in the pond would give you half as much fun 
 as to see his face if you gave him something nice ?" 
 
 "I could give him something nice with the 
 wand," replied Peter. 
 
 Lily-bud nodded. " Yes/' she answered. 
 
 Peter was thinking faster than he had ever 
 thought in his life. "But I haven't any right 
 to/' he said. 
 
 "Why?" asked Lily-bud; but she looked 
 very much pleased. 
 
44 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " Because it doesn't belong to me," he an- 
 swered, and at this Lily-bud was so happy that 
 she flew right over to him and alighted on his 
 scratched hand. 
 
 " You are growing wise, Peter," she said. 
 
 " I have a knife that Lawrence thinks is the 
 best one he ever saw," said Peter, " and that is 
 my own to give." 
 
 " Right-0," said Lily-bud. " Now who is the 
 next person to think about?" she asked. 
 
 Peter's eyes met hers very brightly, and he 
 saw her wings close and unclose in her eager- 
 ness. After a moment more of thought he 
 waved the wand once again. " I wish we were 
 with Rose-Petal," he said. 
 
 In less time than it takes to tell it, he and 
 Pat found themselves under a large, spreading 
 tree a little away from a roadside, and there, 
 with her tiny hands clinging to the moss, was a 
 lovely fairy who looked over her shoulder at Pat 
 with frightened eyes. 
 
 " All right, all right," sang Lily-bud, flitting 
 around Peter's head on bright wings. The 
 moment Rose-Petal heard her friend's voice she 
 turned about. Peter saw that this new fairy's 
 wings were drooping and that she looked pale 
 and sad. He could hardly wait to give her 
 what was her own, and he leaned down, holding 
 out the bright bit of silver. 
 
 " Here is your wand, Rose-Petal," he said. 
 
THE WAND 45 
 
 How gladly the little creature seized it, and 
 Peter had the pleasure of seeing her cheeks flush 
 and her eyes grow bright and her gauzy wings 
 lift, while rosy color ran in waves all over her 
 white gown, from which the dust fell away. 
 She looked up at him with lovely, grateful eyes, 
 and flew twice around his head before she 
 alighted on his shoulder and spoke into his ear. 
 
 "And what can I do for you, Peter?" she 
 asked in a voice that was like sweet music. 
 " Your arms are bleeding." 
 
 " I don't deserve anything," replied Peter, not 
 daring to move with that dainty being on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " I can't leave you without showing my grati- 
 tude," said Rose-Petal, and Lily-bud felt so 
 happy and full of fun that she alighted on Pat's 
 ear, but he thought a twig was tickling him, 
 and he put up his paw so she whirred away 
 laughing, and then flew back to Rose-Petal and 
 took her hand. 
 
 " This is a very uncomfortable, wet coat 
 you're standing on," she said. 
 
 "I think so too," replied Rose-Petal, "so first 
 we'll forget all those scratches." She touched 
 Peter with the wand and instantly his arms and 
 legs were smooth "and then," she continued, 
 " we'll make him as nice outside as he is inside." 
 She touched him again and all the shabby 
 clothes were gone, and the boy found himself 
 
46 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 dressed in a fine, strong suit with shoes that 
 fitted him perfectly. 
 
 "Good bye, Peter," she said, "and if I ever 
 lose my wand again I hope you will be the one 
 to find it." 
 
 There was a little, whirring sound, Peter's 
 cheek was fanned by a zephyr, and the fairies 
 were gone. He called them, for he wanted to 
 thank Rose-Petal, but there was no reply. 
 
 When, later, he and Pat came walking home 
 they created some excitement on the street and 
 in his cottage. 
 
 "I said that boy would come to no good," 
 said one old woman who saw him pass. " Let 
 some one fetch the constable. He has stolen a 
 new suit of clothes and should be clapped in 
 jail." 
 
 " His mother questioned him and he told her 
 that a fairy gave him the clothes and that he 
 had been in the sky on a cloud." 
 
 "Poor child, he has had a sunstroke," ex- 
 claimed his mother, and she put him to bed and 
 nursed him for a couple of days, but when he 
 arose the new clothes were still there, and he 
 put them on and went back to school. 
 
 Little by little the girls and boys found they 
 need not avoid him, and he carried out his plan 
 to give Lawrence the precious knife, and this 
 made Lawrence his friend for life. 
 
 Peter was so changed and quiet and thought- 
 
THE WAND 47 
 
 ful that many of the grown people who heard 
 what he had told his mother said that he had 
 lost his mind ; but the school teacher, who had 
 suffered much from his pranks, in the past, 
 shook her head. 
 
 "No indeed," she said earnestly. "He has 
 found it. Watch and see if Peter doesn't come 
 to be the happiest boy in the village." 
 
 And sure enough he did. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 THE GOLDEN KEY. 
 
 fTHHE next time Lois and Hal asked Wenonah 
 
 for a story she said she had noticed how 
 
 happy they seemed to be together and that 
 
 they made her think of a little brother and sister 
 
 she knew of who lived in a far country where 
 
 the rivers had very long names. 
 
 " Will you tell us about them ? " asked Lois, 
 as she and Hal settled themselves to work on 
 their baskets. 
 
 " Yes/' replied Wenonah. " This special river 
 that I am thinking of was named Wapsipinicon." 
 Her eyes sparkled at the children as she said it, 
 for she knew that name was a mouthful. 
 
 " Whew ! " exclaimed Hal, " I'd have to prac- 
 tice a week to say that word." 
 
 " Well, if you had seen this river," went on 
 Wenonah, "you wouldn't have cared what its 
 name was, it was so lovely. It did not run very 
 swiftly, but dreamed along between its flowery 
 banks like a maiden who strolls in pleasant paths, 
 musing as she goes. 
 
 The water was so clear you could see the fish 
 swimming in it, and the gold-brown sand at the 
 
 48 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 49 
 
 bottom. The rocks that peeped out here and 
 there made little whirlpools and waterfalls as the 
 river gurgled around them. 
 
 This brother and sister loved each other so 
 much they never thought of quarreling. Where 
 you saw one you would be pretty sure to find the 
 other. They were very fond of playing on the 
 river bank because the best wild flowers grew 
 there and wheR their work was done around their 
 home they would run a race every day to see 
 which would get into the woods first, and then, 
 crashing through the bushes and between the big 
 trees, they would scamper until they came out 
 into the sunshine again by the river. 
 
 They loved that beautiful playmate, the river, 
 always running away, yet always there, whisper- 
 ing and laughing and welcoming them with 
 every sunny ripple. 
 
 One afternoon the children espied a new flower 
 of a deep orange color growing on a high bank 
 near a clump of bushes. When they reached the 
 blossom they found that it gave off a delicious 
 spicy odor. They were delighted and stooped 
 eagerly to pick it, but before their hands reached 
 the stem a clear little voice spoke severely. 
 
 " What is your name, little boy ? " 
 
 The two stood close together in their surprise 
 and did not answer. 
 
 The voice spoke again. " What is your name, 
 little boy?" 
 
50 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " My name is Pierre," answered the boy, look- 
 ing all about for his questioner. 
 
 "What is your name, little girl?" asked the 
 voice. 
 
 It was such a sweet voice, as well as shrill, 
 that the little girl was not really afraid, but she 
 stood a little closer to her brother. 
 
 " My name is lona," she said. 
 
 Then Pierre spoke quickly, "But who are 
 
 you?" 
 
 " I am one of the guards of the fairy queen," 
 was the reply; and suddenly the children saw 
 the owner of the shrill little voice. 
 
 He was about as tall as your finger, dressed 
 in green so exactly the color of the bush on 
 which he was standing that no wonder they 
 had not seen him sooner. A sword hung by 
 his side, and looking closely they saw that it 
 was a thorn. An acorn cup was his cap, and 
 stuck in it was a tiny stiff feather some bird had 
 dropped. 
 
 He was so cunning lona longed to pick him 
 up, but he looked so important and stern she 
 felt sure that he would resent any attack on his 
 dignity with that very sharp sword, and she 
 thought she would better let him alone. 
 
 "That orange flower," went on the guard, 
 " belongs to the fairy king and queen and you 
 must not break it." 
 
 " Do they own all these wild-flowers ? " asked 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 51 
 
 Pierre. "I have picked a lot of them. We 
 didn't know they belonged to anybody." 
 
 " No, their flower garden is not like that of 
 mortals, all huddled together in one place," ( the 
 guard spoke quite scornfully). "Their flowers 
 are scattered and that is why they require guards. 
 Some are in the woods, some in the mountains, 
 some in ravines, so now you understand, unless 
 you are very dull mortal children." 
 
 " 0, we understand," returned lona eagerly. 
 " Do you suppose we could see the fairy king and 
 queen ? We have wanted to all our lives." 
 
 The guard lifted his little shoulders and looked 
 very proud. " It is possible," he said, " but not 
 the easiest thing in the world." 
 
 " We wouldn't care if it was very hard indeed," 
 said Pierre earnestly. " Is that thorn of yours 
 instead of a wand ? " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean- by a thorn," 
 returned the guard, and lona noticed that he 
 looked displeased. 
 
 " He means your sword, please, Sir," she said, 
 so very humbly that the guard's face cleared, 
 and she gave Pierre's hand a tight squeeze 
 to remind him that sometimes the smaller peo- 
 ple are the bigger they feel themselves to 
 be. 
 
 "No, I don't need any wand. My duty is 
 simply to keep order. I have nothing to do with 
 helping other people about their affairs as Rose- 
 
52 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 Petal and Lily-bud and others like them are 
 always doing." 
 
 lona tried not to laugh. The guard was so 
 small and thought so much of himself. 
 
 "If I should pick this orange flower what 
 would happen to me ? " asked Pierre. " Would 
 you take me before the king and queen? " He 
 was thinking that might be a good way to get 
 there. 
 
 " It would be my duty to thrust your fingers 
 through and through/' replied the guard, his 
 hand on his sword hilt and his face very threat- 
 ening, " and you should never see the king and 
 queen." 
 
 " Oh, we wouldn't do it, of course/' exclaimed 
 lona hastily, " since you ask us not to, and if you 
 would be so very kind as to tell us how to get to 
 the fairy court we couldn't thank you enough." 
 
 The guard's fierce frown vanished and he re- 
 garded the children more cheerfully. 
 
 " First," said he, " of course you would have 
 to travel some distance." 
 
 " yes," they cried. 
 
 " You will have to do exactly as I tell you." 
 
 " Of course," the answer came very eagerly. 
 
 " You, Pierre," said the guard fairy, " must 
 think of a number. You, lona, must think of 
 a letter. Be sure not to forget them. Then 
 when I tell you what to do you must each get 
 on them, one on the letter and one on the num- 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 53 
 
 ber and sail across the Wapsipinicon. On the 
 opposite bank you will find a pool lying in the 
 midst of bulrushes. That is a fairy pool and 
 there you will meet a sentry called Bullfrog. He 
 will ask your names and your business and you 
 must tell him what you are seeking and he will 
 help you on your way. As soon as you get on 
 your letter and number I will push you off from 
 the bank with my sword and you will have a 
 safe journey." 
 
 " let us go at once/' cried the children. 
 
 The guard looked very strange for a moment. 
 66 It is so long since I helped mortals to go to the 
 fairy court that I have forgotten something," he 
 said slowly. " The last children that went to 
 court did a dreadful thing and I had forgotten 
 it. I don't believe you will be able to go after 
 all." 
 
 " Tell us what it was," begged Pierre. " How 
 could anything other children did keep us from 
 going?" 
 
 "Why they lost the key to the palace gate," 
 said the guard. " Of course fairies don't need 
 it, but mortals do. You can not enter without 
 it." 
 
 Pierre and lona looked at one another. This 
 was surely a hard situation. 
 
 " There is no harm in our hunting for the key, 
 is there ? " asked lona. 
 
 " No," returned the guard, " No harm, and no 
 
54 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 hope. You must know that many people have 
 searched for it." 
 
 " Let us try at any rate," said Pierre. " If 
 we should find the key and come back may we 
 call you?" 
 
 "I'm a very busy person," said the guard, 
 "for as you can understand I have to follow 
 children about from place to place. However, 
 if you find the key you may come back here and 
 standing in this same spot say, 
 
 ( Come, brave flower-guard, near or far, 
 Wapsipinicon, 'rah, 'rah, 'rah ! ' 
 
 and I will be with you." 
 
 The guard held himself very straight. 
 
 " What does the key look like ? " asked Ion a. 
 
 "It is small and made of gold," said the guard. 
 
 " Thank you so much," cried both the children, 
 but they found they were talking to a green 
 bush. The guard had vanished. 
 
 The orange flower was sending out such charm- 
 ing fragrance that they looked at it once more, 
 wistfully, then at each other, and shook their 
 heads. 
 
 " We said we wouldn't, you know,'' said lona. 
 
 "Besides," returned Pierre, " we have to find 
 that key or else never see the fairy court. Those 
 children must have dropped it in the woods or in 
 the water, for if it had been on the grass it could 
 easily have been found." 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 55 
 
 Brother and sister stood hand in hand on the 
 bank of the river 5 wondering if somewhere amid 
 its golden sand lay a little golden key. 
 
 "Do you remember," said lona, "what the 
 flower guard said about two fairies who helped 
 people with their affairs ? I was thinking how 
 nice it would be if one of them would help us 
 now. Do you remember their names ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think they were Rose-bud and Lily- 
 petal." 
 
 " Let us see if we can persuade them to come/' 
 said lona. " The flower guard gave us a rhyme 
 for himself. Can you make a verse about Eose- 
 bud?" 
 
 Pierre thought deeply for a moment. " I don't 
 believe I can," he answered. "Can you? You 
 must, lona. It's necessary/' 
 
 So lona thought and thought. At last she said, 
 
 " Kose-bud of the gauzy wing, 
 We need you like anything." 
 
 Then the children looked all about. The for- 
 est trees back of them were waving and shimmer- 
 ing in the sun. Daises and buttercups were 
 bright along the shore, and a tangle of wild rose- 
 bushes covered with blossoms made the air sweet ; 
 but no fairy appeared. 
 
 " They must be good fairies," said Pierre, " or 
 else they wouldn't help people, and there must 
 be some way to get them. That proud little 
 
56 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 flower guard appeared to us quick enough with- 
 out any verse being said to him." 
 
 " Perhaps we haven't the names right," said 
 lona. " I wonder if it wasn't Lily-bud and Rose- 
 Petal." 
 
 " Try again, then/' returned Pierre. 
 
 So lona thought very earnestly again and at 
 last said, 
 
 Kose-Petal bright, Eose-Petal gay, 
 Help us to find the key today." 
 
 "What key, children?" asked a voice, and 
 turning quickly they saw on the nearest wild 
 rose-bush a fairy swaying. Rosy waves swept 
 over her white gown in ripples of color, and 
 her wings changed from silver to rose as they 
 closed and unclosed. 
 
 Pierre and lona hurried toward her. 
 
 " dear Rose-Petal," said lona, clasping her 
 hands in happiness at seeing the bright little be- 
 ing. " The flower guard will help us to the fairy 
 court if we can only find the key to the palace 
 gate. Some children lost it. Can you help us ? " 
 
 Rose-Petal shook her head and smiled. "I 
 will do what I can, but when mortals lose things, 
 mortals must find them." 
 
 "But I suppose you know everything," said 
 Pierre. " I suppose you know where the key is." 
 
 "No," returned Rose-Petal," I don't know 
 where it is, but I shall be glad if you find it, for 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 57 
 
 it is rather a pity children should not be able 
 any longer to visit our court.'* 
 
 " Do you go there often ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 "I live there/' replied Rose-Petal. "I am 
 one of the queen's maids of honor." 
 
 "Then why can't you take us?" suggested 
 lona eagerly. 
 
 " You know already/' returned the fairy. 
 " Mortals must use the key, and when two chil- 
 dren like you, who are not selfish or quarrelsome, 
 wish to go I am glad to help them for they al- 
 ready have the greatest key of all, the key that 
 unlocks all earthly doors." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "Love," replied Rose-Petal, "and for that 
 reason they will not carry into the fairy court 
 anything but love. Many children have too 
 much other baggage to carry : selfishness, bad 
 temper, sometimes even dishonesty. That was 
 the trouble with the last mortal visitors we had, 
 and it was in some quarrel that they lost the 
 key. Now this is what I will do for you." Rose 
 Petal produced two acorn cups such as the flower 
 guard had worn. " Here are two caps. They 
 have many virtues and will make you understand 
 much that you never understood before." 
 
 She touched the children with her silver wand. 
 The children took the acorn cups gratefully, but 
 they smiled at each other and then at the pretty 
 face and bright eyes of the fairy. 
 
58 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " I don't see how we can ever wear such caps 
 as these," said lona, laughing. 
 
 Rose-Petal smiled. " They will fit you when 
 you put them on/' she said. " Try it." 
 
 The children placed the little caps on the top 
 of their heads and suddenly the strangest thing 
 happened to Rose-Petal. She grew as big as 
 they were, and Pierre and lona were so occupied 
 with that change that they did not notice that 
 the new caps fitted them perfectly. 
 
 Rose-Petal with the vibrant waves of 7 rose 
 color playing over her wings and her gauzy gown, 
 looked so tall and dignified and beautiful that 
 lona wondered how a minute ago she could have 
 longed to take her up in her hand. 
 
 " I didn't know there were such large fairies," 
 exclaimed Pierre. 
 
 Rose-Petal laughed gaily. " And I didn't 
 know there were such small children/' she an- 
 swered, and at once there was nothing where she 
 had been standing but a huge wild rose. Pierre 
 and lona grasped each other's hands. They 
 were swinging on the bough of a bushy tree 
 with giant roses all around them. 
 
 "How did we get up in this tree?" asked 
 lona. 
 
 "I suppose we climbed up/' said Pierre, "but 
 I don't remember it. Shall I help you down? ". 
 He took off his cap to put it in his pocket be- 
 cause he knew it was valuable to them in some 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 59 
 
 way, and instantly he was standing beside the 
 wild rose-bush, and there before him was a little 
 creature no bigger than Rose-Petal standing on 
 a twig and wearing an acorn cap. 
 
 He laughed and took the cap off his sister's 
 head and at once she stood beside him on the 
 ground, beside the rose-bush. 
 
 " Why, Pierre ! " she cried. 
 
 "Why, lona," he answered. "Our caps are 
 wonderful things, but I don't see yet how they 
 are going to help us." 
 
 " We shall find out," replied lona. " First of 
 all I think we ought to search the river, don't 
 you?" 
 
 " That would take us the rest of our lives," 
 returned Pierre, "for the river begins in the 
 mountains and flows into the sea." 
 
 "But the water-nixie will perhaps know," 
 said lona. " Rose-Petal believed there was hope 
 of our finding the key or she would not have 
 helped us. Her eyes looked kind. She wouldn't 
 play tricks." 
 
 "No," returned Pierre, "I'm sure she was a 
 good fairy. Then you will have to make up 
 another verse, lona." 
 
 " You do this one," suggested his sister. 
 
 Pierre scratched his head and wrinkled his 
 forehead but rhymes wouldn't come, so lona 
 tried again. 
 
 They both stood close to the river and Pierre 
 
60 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 said, " I think our caps might help. Rose-Petal 
 said we should understand everything better." 
 
 So, pushing the acorn cups down over their 
 heads again they found they fitted perfectly and 
 suddenly the river had become such a great tor- 
 rent that they stepped back a little and lona 
 cried in a high, sweet voice, 
 
 " Wapsipinicon, ? rah, 'rah, 'rah, 
 Come, pretty Nixie, wherever you are." 
 
 Instantly the waterfall formed by the largest 
 rock that stuck out of the river bed became misty, 
 and a spray rose from it, higher, higher, higher, 
 until the children saw a lovely maiden's form 
 grow clearer and clearer. 
 
 The crystal water shimmered over her head 
 and long hair and gown of mist, and she stood, 
 a slender, lovely, dripping fountain and gazed 
 upon the tiny children kindly. 
 
 "It is very good of you to come," said Pierre. 
 He snatched off his cap politely and nearly 
 stepped upon lona, who leaped away from him. 
 He restored it very quickly you may be sure, and 
 the Nixie continued to gaze at them through her 
 rippling, watery veil, without apparently notic- 
 ing these extraordinary changes. 
 
 "We are searching for the lost key to the 
 fairy palace gate," explained lona. "It is 
 of gold. Have you seen it glittering in your 
 river?" 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 61 
 
 " No," returned the Nixie in a gurgling tone. 
 " The key is not in the river." 
 
 "Do you know where it is?" cried Pierre 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Those of the ground must tell you," gurgled 
 the Nixie. " The water knows nothing of it." 
 
 The springing fountain lowered slowly, slowly, 
 the mist melted and the waterfall played as be- 
 fore over its sturdy rock. 
 
 The children looked at one another. " That 
 was good," said Pierre. " It saves a great deal 
 of time. We can go faster without our caps, 
 since Kose-Petal forgot to give us wings to go 
 with them, and next we must go to the forest." 
 
 They took off the caps and hurried fast as 
 their feet would carry them back into the woods. 
 
 " Now, slow and sure," said Pierre, and they 
 fitted on their caps again. They saw at once 
 what Rose-Petal had meant by what she said of 
 their being better able to understand, for to their 
 great surprise a bird, who had begun to twitter as 
 they stepped in among the trees, was speaking. 
 
 " There are those two children again," she 
 chirped. " They crash through the bushes here 
 so many times a day it is very strange they 
 never seem to remember that trees were made 
 for us and not for them. I'm always expecting 
 them to look up and see my nest, and some chil- 
 dren are robbers, you know." 
 
 " We are not," cried lona, but the bird flew 
 
62 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 away, paying no attention to her and singing as 
 she went, " Robbers, robbers," to warn the other 
 birds. 
 
 " I can't bear to have them think that," said 
 lona with tears in her eyes. 
 
 " No matter now," said Pierre, " we must look 
 steadily at the ground as we walk to see if we 
 can find that key." 
 
 A bird up among the highest branches had 
 heard lona's words of grief that she should be 
 thought a robber and he felt sorry for her. 
 
 " Ask the Wise Man," he sang. 
 
 " Where is he ? " cried Pierre. 
 
 "Downstairs, downstairs," sang the bird, as 
 he too, flew away. 
 
 "How can there be stairs in the woods?" 
 asked Pierre. 
 
 " In the hollow tree, 
 See what you can see," 
 
 sang somebody. It might have been a bird, but 
 the children thought it sounded like Rose-Petal's 
 voice. At any rate they began looking for a 
 hollow tree and at last found one. 
 
 They climbed up with their small hands and 
 feet and looked all about the hollow. At one side 
 there seemed to be a dark hole and as they came 
 closer they saw little stairs leading downward. 
 
 A woodpecker outside the trunk saw them go 
 in. Tapping hard on the bark he said, " Flatter 
 him, flatter him." 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 63 
 
 "I don't see anyone to flatter," said Pierre. 
 
 " Nor I, but perhaps we shall," returned lona. 
 Let us go down those stairs. The birds know 
 all about the woods and we would better obey 
 them." 
 
 So they started down the dark flight of stairs 
 which wound down, down, between the twisted 
 roots of trees that had a very earthy smell. 
 
 At last they came out into a sort of room, a 
 room with no shape at all, you might say, because 
 there were so many passages leading on from it ; 
 but it was large enough for the little brown man 
 who stood there looking with surprise to see vis- 
 itors appearing from the stairway. He had a 
 long white beard, but his face looked like a po- 
 tato, lona thought, his eyes were so small, and 
 his color, clothes and all, so brown. 
 
 The place was lighted by glow worms that 
 hung from the top of the room and there was a 
 table that was an old tree root, and a chair of 
 the same. 
 
 "Flatter him, flatter him" the woodpecker 
 had advised, and lona wondered how anyone 
 could flatter such a droll being, as homely and 
 earthy as he could be. 
 
 "Be sure to keep your cap on," whispered 
 Pierre. " We should bump our heads dreadfully 
 if we lost them, and never get out, either." 
 
 The little man did not look glad to see them. 
 
 " If you have come to get employment I don't 
 
64 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 need any more helpers," he said, " so you may 
 as well go right back. This is going to be a very 
 busy day with me. I felt thunder a minute ago." 
 
 " How can you feel thunder ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 " You don't even know that ? " said the little 
 man, " and yet you thought you could work for 
 met" 
 
 lona, with the necessity for flattery still on 
 her mind, here spoke : 
 
 " Of course we don't expect to know a quarter 
 as much as you do," she said earnestly. " We 
 are only children, and upstairs they call you the 
 Wise Man." 
 
 The gnome (for that is what he was), stroked 
 his beard, and his eyes shone with satisfaction. 
 " Of course. They naturally would/' he said. 
 " What else could they call me ? " 
 
 " 0, what darling kittens," cried lona, stoop- 
 ing to some little dark objects she saw on the 
 ground near the table, and she smoothed the 
 delicate, dainty fur. " Pierre, did you ever 
 feel anything so soft ? " 
 
 The gnome stroked his beard again. It was 
 a way he had when he was pleased. " You are 
 certainly very ignorant," he said. " It is a good 
 thing you came down here to learn a few things. 
 Those are not kittens, they are moles." 
 
 " Why, so they are," said Pierre, " and would 
 you mind telling us, Sir, what you meant by 
 feeling the thunder ? Where we live, we hear it." 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 65 
 
 " Why it shakes the earth, of course, and 
 when I feel it vibrating all around me I know I 
 shall soon be busy unless the storm passes 
 around. You'd better get out now, for when 
 the rain falls I shall have no time to teach you 
 anything more and I can't employ such ignorant 
 children as you are." 
 
 "Would you mind telling me what your 
 workmen do?" asked Pierre. "You seem to 
 be all alone." 
 
 " Somebody must be here to give directions, 
 of course." 
 
 " Certainly, Sir," said Pierre, " but my sister 
 and I don't know much about what happens under 
 the ground and it is so interesting to hear." 
 
 " Who did you suppose carried the water to 
 the roots of the trees and flowers ? " 
 
 " We didn't know, Sir." 
 
 " Who did you suppose helped the new little 
 rootlets to find a drink, and guided them to the 
 softest earth-places so they could reach down 
 and eat and grow strong ? " 
 
 " We didn't know, Sir." 
 
 " Well, you know now. Do you see all those 
 passages leading off in every direction from this 
 room ? " 
 
 Yes, Sir." 
 
 "They are full of my workmen for miles 
 around. They have all felt the thunder and 
 they are ready." 
 
66 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " That is very wonderful," said lona, who 
 had risen from caressing the moles and was lis- 
 tening attentively. " You know, then, every- 
 thing that is in the ground, don't you ? " 
 
 " Certainly I do ! " 
 
 " Do you know what is on top of the ground? 
 We are searching for a golden key " 
 
 " 0, that golden key ! " exclaimed the gnome. 
 " What a to-do there has been about that key !" 
 
 " 0, Sir, if you know anything about it," 
 exclaimed Pierre, " do tell us. The birds told us 
 that you were the Wise Man and sent us down 
 to see you. They felt you could help us." 
 
 The gnome nodded slowly, and closed one of 
 his little potato eyes in a knowing wink. 
 
 " Trust the birds for that," he said. " They 
 have their own reasons for sending you down 
 here. Anything to make you believe the key 
 was on the ground, or in it." 
 
 " Are you sure it isn't, dear Mr. Wise Man ? " 
 asked lona. 
 
 " Perfectly sure. We go upstairs in the twi- 
 light when the sun won't hurt our eyes. We 
 know everything that lies on the ground in this 
 forest." 
 
 " And the key isn't there ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 " Do you know where it is you who know 
 everything?" cried lona, grasping the edge of 
 the gnome's earthy smock with beseeching 
 hands. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 67 
 
 " I know everything that it is my business to 
 know," returned the gnome impatiently, " and 
 that is enough. Begone, now. 0, the birds," 
 he added with another knowing nod and wink, 
 " Leave it to the birds. Out with you ! The 
 rain is coming." 
 
 " But we'd like to stay here until the shower 
 passes," suggested Pierre. 
 
 " No indeed. I must get to my work and 
 command my army. How do I know that you 
 would not make off with a glowworm or a 
 mole ? Have you brought any references ? " 
 
 The children were forced to admit that they 
 had not, so the gnome hustled them up the 
 stairs and they climbed until they came out into 
 the daylight of the hollow tree. 
 
 A flash of lightning greeted them, and they 
 laughed as they cuddled down into the pow- 
 dered dead wood in the depths of the hollow 
 and watched the silver rain which at once began 
 to fall, and listened to the grand peals of thun- 
 der that seemed to shake the foundations of the 
 earth. 
 
 " It's no wonder he could feel the thunder," 
 said Pierre. 
 
 " Did you speak to me ? " asked a laughing 
 voice. It sighed even as it laughed, like a 
 breeze passing through the tops of the trees. 
 
 The children looked all about. 
 
 " Pierre, you made a rhyme," exclaimed lona. 
 
68 WENONAH'S STOEIES 
 
 " ' You were a poet and didn't know it ' and we 
 know by this time that fairies love poetry. 
 Something lovely is near us. Do you suppose a 
 dryad lives in this tree ? " 
 
 The thunder seemed to rip the clouds apart 
 and the fast-falling silver rain began to be 
 lighted by an occasional sunbeam. lona looked 
 very happy and excited and she held Pierre's 
 hand tightly while she said : 
 
 " Lovely dryad of the wood, 
 Help us, if you'll be so good." 
 
 Instantly, with a swirl of green draperies, a 
 slender, laughing girl stood before them. The 
 rain sent its silver lances over her golden hair 
 and leaf green gown without wetting her in the 
 least. 
 
 "You are making yourself very much at 
 home," she said with a gay little ripple of 
 laughter that clothed all she said. 
 
 " We didn't know it was your tree," said 
 Pierre, his hand going up to his cap but he 
 remembered in time and dropped the hand. 
 " We went downstairs to see the Wise Man be- 
 cause we are hunting for the key to the gate of 
 the fairy palace, and he thinks the birds know 
 more about it than they tell. 
 
 " My birds, my birds," sighed the dryad. 
 
 " Of course they are ! " exclaimed lona. 
 " You'll show us where to go, won't you ? " 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 69 
 
 " Secrets, secrets/' laughed the dryad, a very 
 mischievous look in her pretty eyes. 
 
 "But what possible use can a key be to a 
 bird ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 " Ask them, ask them/' sang the dryad. 
 
 " No, no," exclaimed lona, " the birds think 
 we are robbers when we wouldn't rob them for 
 the world, and yet if we take the key from them 
 they might call it robbing. What shall we 
 do?" She clasped her hands together and the 
 dryad, mischievous as she was, and full of fun, 
 appeared to feel some sympathy with her. At 
 any rate the green-clad maiden leaned forward, 
 and with a hand as white as mist touched one 
 of lona's golden curls. 
 
 "Fair exchange," she sighed, laughing. 
 " Fair exchange is no rob " her voice died 
 away, and with the voice, her leaf-like gown 
 and fair face. 
 
 " I've heard that before about fair exchange," 
 said Pierre. "lona, we will let all the birds 
 know that you will give a curl for the key. I 
 believe the dryad has helped us more than 
 
 anvone." 
 
 The rain ceased and the children climbed out 
 of their hollow, and hand in hand walked 
 among the dripping trees. The sun burst forth 
 from the racing clouds, and the birds, flying 
 from their shelters among the branches, began 
 to sing. 
 
70 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " There are those children again," sang one. 
 
 " Why should you be afraid of creatures as 
 small as we are ? " sang another. 
 
 "And we love you so, we love you so/' cried 
 lona. 
 
 The first bird heard this. He was a wood- 
 thrush. " Do you think we can believe that ? " 
 he asked of his friend, who was a vireo. 
 
 " It is as well to watch them," said the vireo. 
 " I lost some eggs once." 
 
 " Listen to them," said the wood-thrush. 
 " They are trying to sing, too." 
 
 " Birds of air, 0, list to me, 
 I am searching for a key 
 Golden as the silky curl 
 Growing on this little girl. 
 If you'll give the key to me 
 I'll give you the curl, you see ; 
 Curls are soft and are the best 
 Lining for a cozy nest." 
 
 The children walked on slowly, singing their 
 song, and one bird called to another to listen, 
 until a flock flitted from tree to tree, following 
 them and looking down with bright eyes at 
 lona's golden curls. 
 
 At last a larger bird joined the throng. As 
 soon as he heard the children's song and took a 
 good look at lona's golden hair he flapped his 
 wings and made a great outcry. He was a 
 magpie and a great talker at all times, but now 
 he shrieked at the top of his lungs. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 71 
 
 % 
 
 "A hawk! A hawk! Fly, Fly!" and all 
 the other birds fled away with the speed of 
 arrows. 
 
 As soon as they were out of sight the magpie 
 flew down to lona. 
 
 "Go no further," he said, and his eyes shone 
 as a sunbeam glinted on lona's curls. " I have 
 your key. Do you mean what you said about 
 the curl?" 
 
 " yes, Mr. Magpie," cried the children. 
 
 " Then I can bite it off right now," said the 
 magpie, "and carry it up to my tree when I go 
 to get the key, which is woven into the side of 
 my nest," 
 
 lona put her head down obediently, but 
 Pierre stepped in front of her. 
 
 " No, Mr. Magpie," he said firmly. " Fair 
 exchange is no robbery. Let us see the key, 
 first." 
 
 The bird, seeing that it was of no use to try 
 to get the curl and keep the key too, flew away. 
 It was not very long before he returned with a 
 bit of shining metal in his beak. It proved to 
 be a beautifully carved little key, bright as a 
 sunbeam, and lona held it in both hands while 
 putting her head down to let the magpie choose 
 a curl. As she did so, her acorn cap fell off, 
 and no cry of hawk ever made a bird fly away 
 faster than that magpie flew from the big little 
 girl. 
 
72 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " 0, what a pity ! " said lona, nearly crying. 
 " The birds will think worse of us than ever." 
 
 "No," returned Pierre, taking off his own cap, 
 and standing beside her, "it is good luck for 
 the magpie, for he will get a big curl now, in- 
 stead of a little one. I see him up there now, 
 chattering away in the top of that big oak." 
 
 Pierre took his knife out of his pocket and 
 choosing a curl in the back of lona's head, 
 where its loss would not be much noticed, he 
 cut it off and hung it over a bush, where it 
 shone like gold. 
 
 Then the children hurried away and hid be- 
 hind a tree where they watched until they saw 
 the magpie fly down, seize the curl, and fly off 
 swiftly. 
 
 So then with light hearts the children went 
 back through the woods and out again upon the 
 river bank. 
 
 "Do you remember the number you chose, 
 Pierre?" 
 
 " Yes. Do you remember your letter ? " 
 
 " Yes," returned lona joyously, and they ran 
 up the bank towards the orange flower. 
 
 " Come, little flower-guard, near or far, 
 Wapsipinicon, 'rah, ? rah, ? rah." 
 
 shouted Pierre, but though they hunted all over 
 the bush no little, green-clad fairy appeared. 
 The children looked at one another blankly. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 73 
 
 What if now that they had the precious key, 
 the guard failed to keep his promise ? 
 
 Suddenly Pierre laughed. "It is our fault/' 
 he said, recalling the proud and important look 
 of the guard. "He doesn't know that he is 
 small. I remember now what he told us," so 
 Pierre called, 
 
 " Come, brave flower-guard, near or far, 
 Wapsipinicon, 'rah, 'rah, 'rah." 
 
 and at once the guard with his flashing eye, his 
 green uniform, and with his hand on the hilt of 
 his sword, stood before them. 
 
 " Look ! " cried lona, showing the key. " It 
 was woven into the side of a magpie's nest. I 
 gave him one of my curls for it." 
 
 The guard seemed pleased and nodded. 
 "You have done well," he said, "and now if 
 you remember your letter and number we will 
 be off." 
 
 Wouldn't it be more convenient if we were 
 your size ? " asked Pierre. 
 
 "What do you mean by size?" asked the 
 guard frowning. 
 
 " My cap is gone ! " cried lona. 
 
 Pierre looked all about in his pockets. " So 
 is mine," he returned, looking very blank. 
 " L Rose-Petal gave us some caps like yours " 
 he was explaining, but the guard interrupted him. 
 
 " This is not Rose-Petal's affair, it is mine, so 
 
74 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 don't ask any more foolish questions but follow 
 
 me." 
 
 They went down to the river's edge, and 
 there were the letter and the number, dancing 
 on the ripples like little rafts, and the children 
 got on board. 
 
 "You remember my directions?" asked the 
 guard. 
 
 "Perfectly," they replied. Then the guard 
 with the point of his sword pushed the rafts off 
 from shore and waved them adieu. 
 
 They called back their thanks to him and be- 
 gan to enjoy their ride very much. They could 
 see the fish swimming about them, and several 
 times they thought the fish gently nosed their 
 rafts along so the current could not bear them 
 down stream. 
 
 At last they touched the opposite shore and 
 jumping out they looked about for the pool. 
 The bulrushes were so thick that for some time 
 they could not find it, but at last they saw an- 
 other orange flower like the first, flaming among 
 the green and they hastened their steps. Its 
 odor perfumed all the air. 
 
 " Do you suppose we may pick this one ? " 
 asked lona, when a deep, gruff voice suddenly 
 exclaimed, " Chug ! Stand ho ! Who are you ? " 
 
 Then the children saw that they were on the 
 edge of the pool and on a near rock sat the big- 
 gest bullfrog they had ever seen. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 75 
 
 " We were hunting for you, Sir Bullfrog/' 
 said Pierre politely. 
 
 " Chug ! chug ! " said the frog, and his white 
 throat swelled as he said it. 
 
 Then Pierre told him their experiences and 
 that the flower-guard had promised them that 
 the frog would take them to the palace. 
 
 " Let me see where the curl was cut off. 
 Chug ! chug ! And let me see the key. Chug ! 
 chug ! " returned the frog, without moving. 
 
 So lona bowed her head and her curls fell 
 thick on either side with a little cropped lock of 
 hair in the middle. Then she took the key 
 from the bosom of her dress, for after finding 
 they had lost their acorn caps she wanted to be 
 very, very careful, so had hid it there. 
 
 Then at last the frog was satisfied. 
 
 " Fetch your rafts/ 7 he said, " and we will be 
 off." 
 
 So the children ran back to the riverside and 
 pulled their letter and number out of the water, 
 and placing them on their heads, marched back 
 to the pool. 
 
 " Place the letter on my back and the num- 
 ber on that, and then get on yourselves." 
 
 "Isn't that a very heavy load for you?" 
 asked lona, who believed in kindness to animals. 
 
 " Chug ! No," exclaimed the frog, " I shall 
 probably forget you are there." 
 
 " Please don't," said lona, because we can't 
 
76 WENONAITS STORIES 
 
 swim." She believed also in kindness to chil- 
 dren and she hoped the frog did. 
 
 But the frog began chug-chugging as if he 
 were impatient to be gone, so the children 
 jumped aboard laughing, and off they went, the 
 frog making the water foam with the strokes 
 of his long, strong legs. 
 
 The pool had looked to them like a circular 
 small pond, but the frog swam to a narrow 
 opening in the tall rushes, and although these 
 nearly brushed the children off for some way, 
 the water widened out again. 
 
 It was a long journey. Three times they 
 twisted and turned through narrow openings, 
 but at last they came into a pretty stream that 
 flowed between flowery, tree-shaded banks, and 
 imagine the children's joy when they saw hun- 
 dreds of the fragrant orange-colored flowers, 
 growing in profusion. 
 
 " 0, we must be very near/' cried Pierre. 
 
 " Chug ! chug ! we are," said the frog, " and 
 I have made up my mind to let the fishes take 
 you back. I found I couldn't forget you were 
 there." 
 
 He swam up to a landing of ivory with ivory 
 steps leading down to the water, and who 
 should be standing on the top step, but Rose- 
 Petal herself. 
 
 " Welcome," she said as the children leaped 
 joyously to the shore. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 77 
 
 " We can't thank you enough, dear Frog," 
 said lona. 
 
 " Chug ! " said the frog, and turning around 
 he swam away again as fast as he could go. 
 
 "We must tell you the first thing/' said 
 Pierre, " that we lost our caps and we are very 
 sorry. We tried not to be careless." 
 
 " You were not careless," answered Rose- 
 Petal, " I took them after you found the key." 
 
 This was a great relief to the children, and 
 guided by Rose-Petal they walked through 
 avenues of flowers until they reached a gate 
 of mother-of-pearl. Beyond it they could see 
 flowers and fountains and graceful waving trees, 
 and could hear the singing of birds. 
 
 Rose-Petal turned to them and smiled, and 
 pointed with her wand to the golden lock, 
 lona took out the precious key and with it she 
 unlocked the gate of pearl and they walked in. 
 White doves flew about their heads and lighted 
 on the children's heads and hands, and swans 
 sailed about in a pond clear as emerald. 
 
 The palace itself now T rose before them and it 
 was of mother-of-pearl, very beautiful in shape, 
 and soft looking, like a tinted cloud. 
 
 The children were so full of wonder and hap- 
 piness that they forgot even Rose-Petal. They 
 walked up the flowery avenue to the ivory steps 
 of the palace and straight up them as if in a de- 
 lightful dream. They entered and passed be- 
 
78 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 tween guards like the one they already knew, 
 except that these were dressed in white satin 
 and instead of a sword each carried a stalk of 
 lilies of the valley. 
 
 Pierre and lona walked on, and at last came 
 into the throne room. It was more beautiful 
 than they had dreamed; and the pearl walls 
 and floors had a hundred pale tints of violet, 
 rose and gold. 
 
 At the end, on a raised platform, were two 
 thrones, and on one sat the queen in a lovely 
 filmy robe, outside of which a splendid train of 
 ermine-trimmed white satin trailed on the floor. 
 The king, too, was dressed in white satin and 
 silver lace, and both king and queen wore 
 crowns of pearls with a diamond star in the front. 
 
 Around them were grouped lovely fairies. 
 The children stood still and gazed. Rose-Petal 
 advanced and fell on one knee before the 
 throne. 
 
 " Your majesties, these are the children who 
 found the lost key to the palace gate." 
 
 " Let them come near," said the king, and 
 obeying a gesture from Rose-Petal, Pierre and 
 lona drew near to the wonderful beings they 
 had so longed to see. 
 
 They imitated Rose-Petal and fell on their 
 knees, and as the king and queen each held out 
 a hand they kissed them, and it was like kissing 
 flowers. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 79 
 
 " Rise, dear children, and tell us your adven- 
 tures," said the queen. " The key in not to 
 leave the palace, and the children who took it 
 away thought by so doing that they could come 
 to our court at any time they wished. Of 
 course they lost it and we should like to hear 
 how you found it again." 
 
 " That is true," said the king. " We wish to 
 hear. Speak on." 
 
 So the children told their adventures from 
 the beginning, and the fairies standing about 
 the throne listened with as much interest as the 
 king and queen. Their names, besides Rose- 
 Petal, and Lily-bud whom you already know, 
 were Crystal, Thistle-down, Feather-white and 
 Dewdrop. 
 
 When Pierre and lona had finished their 
 recital the king and queen smiled. 
 
 " We are well pleased," said the king. "Will 
 you tell us, Pierre, why you chose One as your 
 number?" 
 
 " Yes, your majesty," replied Pierre. " It is 
 because you would be the first king and queen 
 we had ever seen, and we knew you were the 
 one and only fairy king and queen." 
 
 "And you, lona," said the queen. "Why 
 did you choose the letter Gf " 
 
 " Because, your majesty," replied lona, " you 
 were a great and good king and queen." 
 
 The royal pair smiled again. 
 
80 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 "Those were very good reasons," said the 
 queen, " and very pleasant for us to hear. Now 
 my maidens will give you some refreshment 
 before you go, and then you may take, each of 
 you, an orange flower. The name of it is Good 
 Cheer and it will not wither, but bloom forever, 
 making all around you glad with its perfume 
 and brightness." 
 
 "After that," added the king, "we desire 
 that you be returned safely to your home in our 
 water chariot, and that your Hves be always as 
 happy as they are today." 
 
 Upon this the king and queen again held out 
 their hands and the children kissed them and 
 then followed Rose-Petal and her charming 
 sisters out of the throne room. 
 
 As the children had no wings the fairies very 
 politely refrained from using theirs and all 
 walked together out into the gardens where 
 they played games and ate delicious fruits and 
 little cakes made of honey and nuts, and drank 
 something delightful, they knew not what it 
 was, from crystal cups. 
 
 At last the sun began to sink into the West 
 and the children's eyelids were ready to sink 
 too, from all they had done this wonderful day. 
 They were very, very happy as each gathered 
 an orange flower. 
 
 Then Rose-Petal led them out past the 
 emerald pond, with its snowy swans, and the 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 81 
 
 doves again alighted softly on their heads and 
 arms. 
 
 lona turned the key in the palace gate, and 
 they passed through. Then she locked it again. 
 The children took a last look at the little golden 
 key and felt sorry for the children who had car- 
 ried it away and therefore could never go back 
 again. 
 
 They walked on to the bank of the river and 
 there floated a charming, opal shell, with pink 
 velvet cushions, and harnessed to it by rosy 
 ribbons were four swans. Pierre and lona 
 clapped their hands with joy at the sight. 
 
 " Their majesties' own water chariot/' said 
 Rose-Petal. " You will have a pleasant journey." 
 
 "But must we say good-bye to you, dear 
 Rose-Petal ? ' ' asked lona. 
 
 " I will meet you at the Wapsipinicon," she 
 answered with a little nod, and mounting on 
 her bright wings she disappeared, into the air. 
 
 Pierre and lona stepped on board the boat 
 and seated themselves on the soft cushions 
 under the opal-colored canopy formed by the 
 curling ends of the lovely shell, and with a 
 smooth motion the swans moved forward, be- 
 tween the flowery banks of the stream. 
 
 " It is like being a king and queen ourselves," 
 said Pierre. 
 
 "Yes," replied lona, holding her dear flower 
 close. 
 
82 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 In and out, through narrow ways and broad, 
 but all beautiful, the swans swam on. Some- 
 times drooping trees dipped their tassels in the 
 water, and the air was always sweet. 
 
 At last the children began to see bulrushes 
 and they remembered their friend, the frog. 
 Would he come to meet them ? 
 
 Sure enough, as the stream narrowed and the 
 bulrushes grew more thickly, the swans began 
 to move more and more slowly. At last they 
 stopped. 
 
 " Chug ! chug ! " said a voice. " Stand, ho." 
 
 "Dear Mr. Frog, how kind of you!" cried 
 lona as the frog came alongside, on his back the 
 letter and number just as they had left them. 
 
 " Where did you get the flowers ? " he asked 
 severely. 
 
 " The gift of the king and queen," replied 
 Pierre. 
 
 The frog sentry seemed satisfied. The pres- 
 ence of the water chariot was proof of royal favor. 
 
 " Chug ! Get aboard," he said, so Pierre and 
 lona rose from their stately pink velvet cushions 
 and jumped over upon the raft. 
 
 "Thank you, dear swans," they cried, and 
 watched the graceful creatures turn and start to 
 swim back, drawing after them the tinted boat. 
 
 The frog began his strong strokes and soon 
 arrived at his home pool on the bank of which 
 stood Rose-Petal, poised on a bulrush. 
 
THE GOLDEN KEY 83 
 
 " Welcome, little travellers/' she said, " now 
 to tlie river." And Pierre and lona, after bid- 
 ding a grateful good-bye to the big frog who 
 chug-chugged a farewell to them, jumped out 
 on shore, and picking up their letter and num- 
 ber, started for the Wapsipinicon. 
 
 " Rose-Petal, we love you and we thank you," 
 cried the children as they boarded their rafts on 
 their own dear river. 
 
 Rose-Petal smiled and pushed off the little 
 boats with her wand. Then she began to sing ; 
 
 " Gentle river, bear them lightly, 
 Wind and wave, sing songs of cheer ; 
 In their hearts may love burn brightly, 
 And protect them from all fear." 
 
 The children stood and threw kisses and 
 waved their hands to the good fairy as the rip- 
 ples bore them on, and her song grew fainter 
 and fainter. 
 
 At last they could see her no longer. They 
 were approaching the shore, and soon scrambled 
 out on a convenient rock. The sun was setting 
 and they hastened through the woods and 
 toward home as fast as they could go. Their 
 mother met them at the door. 
 
 " What is that lovely fragrance?" she asked 
 as they kissed her. 
 
 " These flowers," returned the children, hold- 
 ing up the orange-colored blossoms, which 
 looked like imprisoned sunshine. 
 
84 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 Then they told their mother their adventures 
 and at last Pierre again held up the fragrant 
 flower. 
 
 "The name of it is Good Cheer/' he ex- 
 plained. 
 
 Their mother nodded thoughtfully. 
 
 " The fairies knew the best gift to give you," 
 she said. " With good cheer one needs little 
 else." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 THE POLAWEE. 
 
 " XON'T you know any Indian stories, We- 
 
 J nonah ? " asked Lois one day when they 
 
 were all sitting together in the tent, 
 
 watching the rain through the open door, just as 
 
 Pierre and lona had done in the hollow tree. 
 
 Lois and Hal wished very much that they could 
 
 have some such experience in fairy land as had 
 
 come to those other children ; and when they 
 
 said so the Indian girl smiled. 
 
 " You will find out," she said, "that we can 
 all call upon the greatest wonder worker of them 
 all every day right now." 
 
 " Who ? Who is it ? " asked the children. 
 
 " It is Love," said Wenonah. " Love settles 
 quarrels. Love makes plain people beautiful. 
 Love brings happiness. Supposing Love were 
 taken out of the faces and actions of your fa- 
 ther and mother. What would your lives be 
 like?' 
 
 "0 well, of course, it couldn't be," said Hal, 
 his eyes growing big with such an awful thought. 
 
 " What do you suppose makes the king and 
 queen of Fairyland send Rose-Petal and Lily-bud 
 and the others on their errands of kindness ? " 
 
 85 
 
86 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 " We don't know," answered Lois. 
 
 " Love whispers to them that somebody is in 
 need, of course," explained Wenonah. " You 
 asked me if I didn't know any Indian stories and 
 that made me think of the great chief Pola." 
 
 " Please tell us about him," begged Hal. 
 
 " Did he have any children ? " asked Lois. 
 
 " Yes, a little daughter named Polawee. She 
 was the most beloved princess in the world and 
 it was all because Love was her constant com- 
 panion. If she heard of any children who were 
 sorrowful, or hurt, or unhappy, she went to them 
 at once and did not leave them until they were 
 cheered and the world again seemed a glad place 
 to live in. Her father was a great chief with a 
 crown of feathers, and his face and body deco- 
 rated with bright paint, but he died and was 
 forgotten, while the gentle Polawee has never 
 been forgotten, nor ever will be in that country 
 where they lived. 
 
 The people named a river for her. It was a 
 narrow stream, scarcely more than a creek ; for 
 Polawee loved this river and often led a crying 
 child to look into its clear depths, for the child 
 was sure to laugh at such a funny face as looked 
 up from the sparkling water. Then Polawee 
 laughed and the ripples laughed and they were 
 all happy together. 
 
 Many years afterward when a village of white 
 people had come to be on this spot where the 
 
THE POLAWEE 87 
 
 Princess Polawee lived, a little girl named Ro- 
 wena used to come and stand on the bridge that 
 crossed the stream. She knew about the Indian 
 maiden for whom it had been named how 
 kind she was, and how good to everybody. 
 
 As she stood looking down into the water one 
 day, two tears splashed into the water. 
 
 Rowena had red hair and freckles. She was 
 thin and round-shouldered. The school children 
 teased her and called her Hyena. So her heart 
 was very sore and you can imagine when she 
 leaned over the Polawee today what a reflection 
 she saw, with her bent figure, and her sullen, 
 plain, unhappy face. How she wished the In- 
 dian princess were here now to take her part 
 and help her to punish the teasing children. 
 She would like to see them all as unhappy as 
 she was. 
 
 " Oh Polawee, Polawee," she exclaimed, and 
 more tears splashed into the stream. 
 
 " Yes. Doesn't it seem too bad ? " said a pleas- 
 ant little voice. It seemed to come from the 
 weeping willow growing beside the bridge. Ro- 
 wena started and looked at the tree dipping its 
 drooping leaves into the water. 
 
 " If Polawee saw her river today I think it 
 would make her kind heart ache," went on the 
 voice. 
 
 Rowena stopped crying and looked all about. 
 Finally she perceived what she thought were the 
 
88 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 gauzy wings of a dragon-fly, but as they came 
 nearer she saw that it was a lovely little fairy 
 who stood near her on the railing of the bridge. 
 
 The fairy smiled when she saw that the aston- 
 ished child perceived her. "What is your 
 name ? " she asked. 
 
 " Rowena," replied the little girl, staring with 
 he*r sad, tearful eyes. 
 
 "A pretty name," said the fairy, and she 
 looked so kind that Rowena shook her head. 
 
 "But the children call me Hyena," she said, 
 " and I am bent and homely, with red hair " 
 
 " Hair lighted by the sun," said the fairy. 
 
 " And freckles," added Rowena. 
 
 " The sun's golden kisses," said the fairy. 
 
 Her loving expression warmed Rowena's 
 heart. 
 
 "Are you the Princess Polawee?" she asked 
 in awe. 
 
 " No," replied the fairy, " my name is Lily- 
 bud ; but I know all about the Princess Polawee 
 and I thought perhaps you were crying because 
 her river is so changed from the crystal stream 
 where she brought children to look at their un- 
 happy faces, to make them laugh. The princess 
 would scarcely recognize her river if she saw it 
 
 now." 
 
 " What changed it ? " asked Rowena. 
 " People who didn't love it," replied Lily-bud. 
 "When the village grew up here the people 
 
THE POLAWEE 89 
 
 didn't like the river. It once rose and over- 
 flowed its banks and washed away their seeds 
 and they began to treat it like an enemy. They 
 threw sticks and stones and mud at it." 
 
 " As they do at me," said Rowena. " I know 
 that in the old days unhappy children came and 
 looked into the river until they grew glad, so I 
 come every day and stand here and look into 
 the water, but all I see is the girl they all make 
 fun of. I never thought before of pitying the 
 river," she added. " I'm sorry now that I ever 
 threw mud and stones and sticks into it, as I 
 have done many times." 
 
 " Come with me," said Lily-bud, holding out 
 her hand ; " I will take you to the land where 
 there are only loving thoughts." 
 
 " No," replied Rowena, the sullen look set- 
 tling over her face again, " I will stay and look 
 into the river, for there I shall see the truth. I 
 see why the others despise me, and I despise 
 them too," she added bitterly. 
 
 " But you are not seeing the truth,'' said Lily- 
 bud. " If you had come in Pola wee's day you 
 would have seen a true picture of little Rowena, 
 but in this poor, muddy stream, and bent over 
 as you are when you look into it, there is no 
 truth reflected back." 
 
 Lily-bud glanced down at the water. "Poor 
 river Polawee," she added, " I am glad the prin- 
 cess can not see what wrong stories you are tell- 
 
90 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 ing to the children of this day, and not at all 
 your fault." 
 
 ' She smiled again at the little girl with the 
 swollen eyes. 
 
 " Come with me," she said, " where there are 
 no lies." Her expression was very sweet. 
 
 " I don't see why you want me," said Rowena, 
 hanging her head. 
 
 "Because you need Love," returned Lily-bud, 
 " and we will find it. I am going to give you a 
 rule to remember, to use all your life. It is 
 this : Look up and to the right." 
 
 Rowena from habit bent over again and gazed 
 at the twisted, distorted image of herself in the 
 muddy river. 
 
 " What did I tell you to do ? " asked Lily-bud 
 kindly. 
 
 Rowena lifted her head, looked up and to the 
 right and there she saw a cloud, tinted "with such 
 lovely colors that they held her gaze. 
 
 Lily-bud touched her with her wand and they 
 both floated gently up from the bridge until 
 they rested on that cloud, which was sailing on 
 toward the right. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " exclaimed Rowena. It 
 was so wonderful to be high above all the things 
 that had made her unhappy, and the colors on 
 their cloud, always changing and each more 
 beautiful than the last, made her heart beat fast. 
 She had always loved brightness and had seen 
 
THE POLAWEE 91 
 
 so little. The wide sky itself seemed to lift her. 
 She wondered why she had so seldom looked at 
 it. 
 
 As they sailed on Rowena began to hear mu- 
 sic, as of a chorus of children singing. How 
 charming it was ! How joyful it sounded ! She 
 wished it might go on forever. She looked all 
 about to locate the sweet sounds, but could see 
 nothing. The music grew ever louder and fuller, 
 so she knew that they must be approaching it, 
 and at last Rowena saw before her a scene so 
 wonderful that it made her eyes wide with de- 
 light. 
 
 Lily-bud took her hand and they stepped from 
 the cloud upon the edge of an orchard. Some 
 of the trees bore orange blossoms, some oranges, 
 others a variety of fruits, and on the thick green 
 turf children were skipping hand in hand, in cir- 
 cles, and singing as they went. How fragrant 
 the air was ; what brilliant plumage showed as 
 birds flitted from tree to tree urged by the chil- 
 dren's songs to break forth in their own melo- 
 dies. 
 
 Rowena clasped her hands and looked at her 
 companion. " What," she asked, " made you 
 leave all this and come to me by the muddy Pola- 
 wee?" 
 
 " Love," replied Lily-bud. 
 
 Now the singing children caught sight of the 
 stranger and ceased their music and skipping. 
 
92 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 There were boys among them, and Rowena feared 
 boys. She shrank and would have hidden be- 
 hind Lily-bud had she not been so small. Lily- 
 bud saw her expression. 
 
 " Remember the rule," she said. 
 
 So Rowena, desperately afraid she would be 
 pelted with something, although there seemed 
 only fruit to throw there, looked up and to the 
 right. Sitting among the branches of orange 
 blossoms she saw a white dove, and the dove, 
 seeing her look at him, flew down to her hand, 
 and this made Rowena so happy that she didn't 
 care what was done to her if only they wouldn't 
 frighten this lovely white creature away. 
 
 " A new child, a new child," cried the children 
 and they ran to meet Rowena, who put up her 
 other hand to guard the dove, and shrank back. 
 
 " Come and sing, come and sing," cried the 
 children. "The dove can sit on your head." 
 And wonderful to relate the white bird immedi- 
 ately flew up and perched on Rowena' s red locks, 
 while two children seized her hands and led her 
 into the circle. 
 
 " I don't know the song," she said, half-cry- 
 ing with surprise and happiness. 
 
 " Yes you do. All children know the song," 
 they told her. " Just open your mouth and it 
 will come out." 
 
 And it did come out ; and Rowena sang and 
 skipped around the circle, feeling the dove's lit- 
 
THE POLAWEE 93 
 
 tie feet in her hair, and so happy that her heart 
 swelled within her. 
 
 When they ceased and sat down laughing, to 
 rest on the thick green grass, Rowena found her- 
 self beside the boy next whom she had been 
 skipping. He picked up a golden pear and of- 
 fered it to her. 
 
 " Is this heaven? " she asked him as she took 
 it. The dove had flown back to his nest. 
 
 " Heaven can be anywhere," he answered, as 
 he picked up a pear for himself and began eating 
 it. 
 
 "Not where I came from/' replied Rowena 
 decidedly. 
 
 " yes/' said the boy, " wherever you are 
 yourself, you can make it." 
 
 " That's easy to say/' retorted Rowena. 
 
 " It's easy to do/' said the boy, taking a deep 
 bite of his pear. "You've only to love every- 
 body and look up and to the right/' 
 
 "If you saw the Polawee river you would 
 know that it isn't very easy to love everybody/' 
 said Rowena. 
 
 " What's the matter with it ? " asked the boy. 
 
 " It was a beautiful, clear river when it was 
 named for the Indian Princess, Polawee, and she 
 brought unhappy children to look into it until 
 they stopped crying and were as glad as she 
 was/' 
 
 " Yes/' replied the boy, " but she had her 
 
94 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 arms around them while they looked. It was 
 her love that helped them." 
 
 Rowena turned her head away and thought. 
 When she turned back again she said, " The Pol- 
 awee is like me. No one loves us. They throw 
 mud and sticks into the river, just as they do at 
 me. They call us both names." 
 
 " Then/' said the boy, " you and the Polawee 
 should be changed together." 
 
 " Yes," said Rowena, " but I am not a fairy 
 like Lily-bud. No one would care what I said, 
 or do anything for my asking." 
 
 " yes, they would," returned the boy so de- 
 cidedly that it made Rowena wonder if he might 
 possibly be right. " Love is stronger than Lily- 
 bud or any other fairy. Love is always at 
 your side ready to help. If you don't listen to 
 the teasing of the other children, and smile 
 through it and let Love look through your eyes, 
 and you look up and to the right, you will see 
 what will happen. Love will show you how to 
 clean the river, too." 
 
 Rowena looked at her companion more closely 
 than she had done before. This was such 
 strange talk for a boy. She saw that he was 
 dressed in white, and for the first time she no- 
 ticed that wings grew from his shoulders. Then 
 it was that she realized that it was not that all 
 these children were as large as she was, but that 
 she was now as small as they. 
 
THE POLAWEE 95 
 
 "You know a great deal for a boy," she said. 
 
 " We are taught a great deal," he answered, 
 " because our king and queen have many errands 
 for us to do when Love directs them." 
 
 Rowena was thinking very fast. The pear 
 she was eating was delicious, and it was wonder- 
 ful to feel the kindness of everybody in this 
 flower-grown, song-laden orchard. The perfume 
 in the air seemed kindness, and the kindness 
 seemed perfume. One moment she longed to 
 stay here forever, but the next the Polawee 
 seemed to be calling her. 
 
 She had sometimes seen pigs allowed to walk 
 into the shallow river and stir up the mud with 
 their long snouts. If it were true that Love 
 was always with her, as willing to direct her as 
 to guide the king and queen of fairyland, then 
 surely she should not mind what other children 
 could do to her. She began to long to try her 
 powers. Here in this garden of delight it seemed 
 very easy to look up and Rowena tried not to 
 remember how different were the dust and un- 
 kindness of the earth. 
 
 She wondered where she could find Lily-bud, 
 and at once the fairy stood before her. 
 
 " Are you happy ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, but I must go home," replied Rowena, 
 and Lily-bud saw the new hopefulness in her 
 face. 
 
 " Love has given you an errand/' she said. 
 
96 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 "Yes, yes/' replied Rowena, "if I can only 
 have courage ! " 
 
 "Love is courage," replied Lily-bud. 
 
 She waved her wand, and on the edge of the 
 orchard there appeared again a rose-tinted cloud. 
 Rowena could see it gleaming through the 
 branches. She looked about on the happy, 
 winged children who began to rise and fly about 
 among the trees. They accompanied the visitor 
 as far as to the edge of the cloud. Could it be 
 Rowena who was thus pursued with affectionate 
 calls and good wishes and loving looks ? 
 
 She waved kisses back to them as she and 
 Lily-bud floated away on their rosy couch, down, 
 and down, and down. 
 
 The voices grew fainter and fainter until they 
 died away. Rowena was so deep in her thoughts 
 that she did not notice when the cloud itself fi- 
 nally faded into mist and disappeared. 
 
 A little red-haired girl in a torn calico dress 
 stood on the bridge over the Polawee. She felt 
 a light kiss on the cheek and looked up and 
 about for Lily-bud ; but she saw nothing but the 
 weeping willow tree, dipping its tassels in the 
 dark river. Her eyes rested on the empty tin 
 cans and ashes lying in the edge of the water. 
 
 Rowena's first thought was that she should be 
 very late home, and that she would be punished 
 by the aunt with whom she lived. 
 
 Her hair was hanging down over her eyes. 
 
THE POLAWEE 97 
 
 She had never cared if it did. It shut out some 
 of the things she shrank from seeing. 
 
 She hurried off the bridge. She had been 
 away such a long time. How could she explain 
 it ? Who would believe her ? 
 
 One thing Rowena did not know. There is no 
 time in Fairyland. Just as one can in one's 
 sleep go through hours of adventure and awaken 
 to find that it all happened in one minute, so can 
 a delightful visit to Fairyland take place between 
 two whisks of a cow's tail. 
 
 The fact is that when Rowena entered the 
 kitchen, expecting a rebuke, her aunt turned 
 from the stove and said : 
 
 " It's time to set the table. How untidy you 
 look, child. You've torn your dress again, 
 too." 
 
 " Yes, I'll mend it, Aunt," replied Rowena. 
 
 Her aunt stared. Such a pleasant answer 
 amazed her, and if she was amazed, Rowena was 
 much more so ! She had been gone, as it seemed 
 to her, many hours, and here she was at home in 
 plenty of time to set the table for supper ! 
 
 " Love must have done that, somehow," she 
 said to herself, and while she worked she thought 
 of the boy in the shining white clothes with 
 whom she had eaten the pear, and she felt again 
 the little pink feet of the dove on her hand, and 
 heard its gentle coo. 
 
 Her poor, torn dress and her snarly hair 
 
98 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 seemed dreadful to her. She must try to look 
 more like those children in the orchard. 
 
 She sat up that night and worked hard to 
 mend her dress and she asked for buttons to put 
 on the places where they were missing. Her 
 aunt put her hand on the child's head. She 
 feared she might be ill, she was so unlike herself, 
 and Rowena, looking up and to the right, saw 
 something very like love looking out of the puz- 
 zled woman's eyes. 
 
 The next morning when Rowena was ready 
 for school her aunt looked at her again in sur- 
 prise. Her hair had been brushed until it 
 shone. She looked pink and clean all over from 
 scrubbing with soap and water. Her old dress 
 was whole and properly buttoned down the 
 back. 
 
 " My hair gets into my eyes, Aunt," said Ro- 
 wena. " Have you a ribbon that I could use to 
 hold it back?" 
 
 " Yes, I guess so," was the reply and her aunt 
 brought a piece of black ribbon. Rowena tied it 
 around her red locks where the dove's feet had 
 rested. 
 
 " I think I'll have to get you a new dress, Ro- 
 wena, if you are going to be willing to take 
 some care of it." 
 
 At this the little girl looked up so pleased 
 that her aunt thought, " She's not such a bad- 
 looking young one, after all," and again Ro- 
 
THE POLAWEE 99 
 
 wena saw something like love looking out of the 
 eyes that usually frowned at her. 
 
 " What has got you started on all this ? " her 
 aunt asked. Rowena had expected the question 
 and had been wondering how she should answer 
 it. She would have been willing and glad to 
 tell her aunt all about her wonderful visit, but 
 how could she expect to be believed ? 
 
 " I was standing on the bridge, thinking of 
 the Princess Polawee," she answered. " I was 
 thinking how bad she would feel over the looks 
 of her river. Then I thought that I looked as 
 untidy and muddy as the river myself, and I be- 
 gan to wish I could clean us both up." 
 
 Her aunt was so much surprised to hear this 
 that she began to laugh and Rowena heard the 
 pleasure in it. 
 
 " You did well to begin with yourself," she 
 replied, " for I'm thinking you will have more 
 trouble with the river. The selectmen of the 
 village don't care how shiftless and careless the 
 people are here. There are laws enough if people 
 only kept them." 
 
 Rowena listened to her attentively. " Where 
 are those men ? " she asked. 
 
 " In the Town Hall, I suppose, if they ever at- 
 tend to business, but it's everybody for himself 
 in this village." 
 
 Now came the dreaded time of every day to 
 Rowena ; time to go to school. Usually she pre- 
 
100 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 pared an extra scowl and some little clenched 
 fists, ready to fall upon her tormentors as she 
 walked along, but now it seemed a long, long 
 time since yesterday morning and she trudged 
 down the road, saying to herself that Love was 
 beside her, and every few minutes she looked up 
 and to the right. 
 
 At last she came in sight of the school-yard 
 and the boys and girls who had arrived early re- 
 cognized her. 
 
 " Hy - Hy - Hyena," they shouted. 
 
 Rowena thought of the children in shining 
 white clothes, and the dove's little feet on her 
 hair, and the way its wings had fanned her cheek. 
 She remembered the songs that she had known 
 and sung. 
 
 " Hy - ena, 
 Nobody meaner," 
 
 shouted the boys and girls. 
 
 The prickly heat she knew began to course 
 down Rowena's back, but she looked up and to 
 the right and smiled a little as she walked on. 
 
 " Hush up," exclaimed one of the children as 
 she drew nearer. " That isn't Rowena." 
 
 Rowena heard this and moved on, smiling at 
 the children without a word. Then she entered 
 the school house. As she passed among them 
 they, too, were still, staring at her fair forehead 
 and smiling lips. 
 
THE POLAWEE 101 
 
 Many times during the morning the other 
 children glanced over at Rowena. What had 
 happened to her ? 
 
 Some of the rougher boys were unwilling to 
 lose the fun of teasing the fiery-tempered little 
 girl, and at. recess time they tried it again. 
 Whenever she could not get out of their way 
 she looked up and to the right and was sure to 
 see a lovely cloud or a bird, or a sunbeam 
 something to remind her of the boy who had 
 told her it was easy to win in a fight like this 
 if one only remembered the rules, and she seemed 
 to the boys so different from their usual victim 
 that they didn't get much satisfaction out of 
 it 
 
 There was a great deal of curiosity about the 
 change in Rowena and one of the older girls at 
 last spoke to her about it. 
 
 " What has made you so changed, Rowena? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " The Princess Polawee," was the surprising 
 reply. 
 
 The big girl told the others and they all 
 laughed as if this were a great joke, but Rowena 
 behaved so quietly and looked up so happily, 
 and her forehead, always before protected by 
 the tangled hair, was so white and smooth, that 
 she seemed altogether like a new being, and 
 stories began to go about the village that Ro- 
 wena had really talked with the spirit of the 
 
102 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 beloved Indian maiden, and that the Princess 
 had transformed her. 
 
 The effect of these rumors was that there was 
 no more teasing of Rowena. In fact the chil- 
 dren stood a little in awe of her, and all the time 
 Rowena was holding in her heart the mission 
 which had made her willing to leave the fairy 
 orchard. 
 
 One day, without telling anyone what she in- 
 tended to do, she made her way to the Town 
 Hall. The men whose duty it was to see that 
 the village was kept in order, and who, Rowena's 
 aunt said, never did it, were sitting around a 
 long table trying to decide whether cows should 
 be allowed to feed in the public park. 
 
 Rowena, in her Sunday frock, walked in upon 
 them, and the men took their pipes from their 
 mouths and stared in surprise to see a little girl 
 come in and disturb their conference. 
 
 She looked from one to another with eager, 
 bright eyes. 
 
 " Are you the selected men ? " she asked. 
 
 Some of them laughed and some of them 
 frowned. One of the frowning ones said, " Run 
 away, child. What do you mean by coming in 
 here and disturbing us when we are attending to 
 the business of the village ? " 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad you do," replied Rowena 
 earnestly. " I heard that you never did attend 
 to it." 
 
THE POLAWEE 103 
 
 At this the laughers laughed harder than ever, 
 and the frowners scowled deeper. 
 
 " What does the brat mean ? Get right out 
 of here/' said one of the latter. 
 
 " Hold on, hold on," said one of the laughers. 
 "Let us hear what the child wants. I know 
 who she is. It's little Rowena. Who did you 
 want, child ? " 
 
 " You," she replied. " All of you. I want the 
 selected men." 
 
 " Well, here we are," returned the good na- 
 tured one. " What's your business ? " 
 
 " I come for the Princess Polawee, Sir." 
 
 Then how all those men stared and again 
 took their pipes out of their mouths. Most of 
 them had heard the story of a child in the vil- 
 lage who had been changed by the spirit of the 
 beloved Indian maiden, and even the frowners 
 stopped frowning as they stared at the little 
 girl with the fair forehead and happy, eager 
 eyes. 
 
 "Don't talk nonsense," said one of them at 
 last. " The Princess Polawee died before your 
 grandmother was born." 
 
 " Yes," replied Kowena, " but her river goes 
 on, and it is sad to see it look so changed since 
 her time. It should be pure and clear as it used 
 to be. Nobody seems to care but the weeping 
 willows, and children can't see themselves in it 
 any more. They think they are ugly and bent 
 
104 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 and dark, when the river would be so glad to 
 give them back the true picture." 
 
 She looked from one to another of the men, 
 hunting for one who seemed to understand. 
 
 " That is so/' replied one of them, " the river 
 is unsightly. I'm glad I don't live near it. I 
 don't think it's good for a body's health." 
 
 " We can't waste time on this," said one of 
 the men impatiently. "Run away, little girl, 
 and dream somewhere else. We have serious 
 business for the village to attend to." 
 
 " This is serious business^of the village," re- 
 plied Rowena, and looking up and to the right, 
 her eye happened to catch that of the man who 
 had spoken of health. 
 
 " My aunt says there are laws. Aren't there 
 any laws about keeping things clean?" 
 
 " Yes, of course there are. But how are you 
 going to make people obey them ? " 
 
 " I'm not going to," k replied Rowena, seriously, 
 " but you will, because unless you promise me, 
 I'm going to find a lawyer." 
 
 The selectmen looked at one another. 
 
 "The young one is right," said one of them 
 at last ; " but why do you care so much, Ro- 
 wena ? " 
 
 " Because of the Princess Polawee," she re- 
 plied. "The children used to call me Hyena 
 until I learned about Love, and the Polawee has 
 been muddied, and bad stuff and cans thrown into 
 
THE POLAWEE 105 
 
 it until it looks just the way I used to feel. 
 The Princess knew more about Love than any 
 one who ever lived in this village, and for her 
 sake I am asking you, who were chosen because 
 you were wise men, to help the Polawee to be 
 clean and happy again." 
 
 There was another silence, while the selectmen 
 looked at one another and then at Rowena whose 
 face was all alight. Her eyes were lifted as if 
 she saw something beside the ceiling of the ugly 
 room, and she did. She saw the fragrant or- 
 chard and the white-clothed children, and heard 
 the joyous singing. 
 
 At last one man brought his fist down on the 
 table. 
 
 "The youngster is right," he said. "Let the 
 cows go to grass for a while and let us talk 
 about the river. Come here, Rowena." He 
 pulled another chair up to the table. " Come 
 here and join the committee. Now tell us your 
 ideas of how we had better go to work." 
 
 Rowena looked very happy and climbed up at 
 once into the chair. 
 
 " People have to be punished when they do 
 wrong," she said. "First let everybody know 
 that the Polawee is going to be made so clean 
 that if the Princess came to see herself in it the 
 picture in the water would look as lovely as her 
 own face. Then put up signs that anybody who 
 threw things into the river would have to pay 
 
106 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 money to you. No tin cans, no ashes, no pigs, 
 no sticks nothing must go into the Pola- 
 wee, then, don't you see," Rowena looked 
 around the table brightly, " don't you see it will 
 wash itself clean, and people will love to go and 
 sit beside it?" 
 
 " It is a fact," said one of the selectmen. 
 " The river hasn't been much more than a dump 
 for years. We'll see what can be done about it." 
 
 Rowena left the Town Hall after some more 
 talk, and a very happy little girl she was when 
 she ran home and told her aunt what she had 
 done. 
 
 Her aunt lifted up her eyes and hands and 
 laughed. " What are we coming to," she said, 
 "when the children have to take a hand! 
 Well, you did wonders, Rowena, to stir up those 
 lazy bones." 
 
 The next day in the village paper an article 
 appeared which astonished Rowena' s aunt and 
 all the village. One of the selectmen was the 
 editor of the village paper, and fortunately for 
 Rowena it was the one who had looked the most 
 kindly at her and had invited her to sit up at the 
 table. This is what the paper said : 
 
 THE PRINCESS POLAWEE IS IN OUR MIDST. 
 
 No one who knows the story of the good In- 
 dian Princess will be very much surprised to 
 learn that she has not been able to rest in the 
 
THE POLAWEE 107 
 
 happy hunting grounds on account of the sad 
 condition of her beloved river. 
 
 From its high estate of comforter to the sor- 
 rowing, the Polawee has become the poor, ugly 
 dumping ground of all the lazy folk in our vil- 
 lage. The Princess, unable to bear any longer 
 the burden put upon her dear stream, has spoken 
 through the lips of one of our own children and 
 pleaded for a restoration of its beauty and charm. 
 
 The village fathers, therefore, have decided to 
 comply with the wishes of the Indian Maid and 
 see that the change is brought about. Hence- 
 forth the Polawee is to be the object of our lov- 
 ing care until it comes into its own. 
 
 Posters will soon appear in convenient places 
 near the river bank, explaining that any and all 
 persons who throw into the water anything more 
 ugly than freshly gathered flowers, will be pun- 
 ished by a fine, the money thus received to go 
 toward further beautifying the Polawee ; but we 
 hope that our citizens will so sympathize with 
 the good Princess, and so realize what an orna- 
 ment the river should be to the village, that we 
 shall receive no money from that source. 
 
 ( Signed ) Your Village Council. 
 
 When Rowena's aunt read this she wiped her 
 glasses and gazed at the child and then read the 
 article aloud to her. 
 
108 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 Rowena skipped all about the room in her 
 happiness. 
 
 " What is all this/' asked her aunt, " about 
 the Princess speaking through you ? " 
 
 "I think that is a joke/' replied Rowena. 
 " One of the selected men was funny and nice." 
 
 When she went to school the next day the 
 children had all heard what was in the newspa- 
 per, and heard that it was Rowena who had spo- 
 ken for the princess. They whispered among 
 themselves, and when she appeared seemed al- 
 most afraid of their changed playmate, but she 
 did not notice this at all. The chief thing any 
 little girl can do to be happy is to forget all 
 about herself, and Rowena' s mind was so full of 
 her hopes for the river that she went right up to 
 the other children and said : 
 
 " Who will join the Polawee Club ? " 
 
 What is that ? " asked the others. 
 
 "Why," said Rowena, "I think it would be 
 fun to get together and make the bank of the 
 river pretty. The girls can plant flowers and 
 the boys can make benches and put them in the 
 nicest places, and we shall all be helping to make 
 the Polawee become again a good little clear, 
 clean, lovable stream." 
 
 The children only stared at first, but Rowena 
 looked so eager and happy, and seemed so 
 changed in the pretty dress which her aunt had 
 told her she could now wear to school, and since 
 
THE POLAWEE 109 
 
 even their fathers had listened to her and taken 
 her advice, they began to think that they might 
 do so too. 
 
 "All right/' said one of the biggest girls, 
 "I'll join the Polawee Club." 
 
 " And I, and I, and I," chimed in others. 
 And to make a long story short Rowena did get 
 them all interested at last, and- the fathers and 
 mothers were helped to keep the new rules 
 about ashes and tin cans because their children 
 were loving and helping the river. 
 
 Sometimes when the Polawee Club were tired 
 and stopped to rest, they would sit down on the 
 grass and Rowena would tell them stories. 
 
 The one they liked best of all was that of a 
 little girl who was sore-hearted and lonely. A 
 fairy named Lily-bud appeared to her one day 
 and took her to the fairies' orchard where the 
 little girl found she could sing, and the other 
 children there were all glad she had come. 
 
 She sat on the grass with a boy in shining 
 white clothes and ate delicious pears with him, 
 and he told her of Love, greater than all the 
 fairies. He told her that if in all her troubles 
 she would look up and to the right she would be 
 helped. He said that the Princess Polawee was 
 using Love when she made crying children look 
 into her river ; and the little girl listened to it all 
 and was so comforted that she tried what he had 
 told her to do and found that he told the truth. 
 
110 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 And while the children planted their flowers 
 and the boys made their benches and Rowena 
 told her stories, the Polawee was washing itself 
 clean. 
 
 Love continued to watch over it and at last 
 the weeping willow saw the lovely grace of its 
 branches reflected clearly in the water. The 
 wisps of white cloud and the birds flying over 
 saw themselves in its depths ; and whenever a 
 child in that village had a little heartache and 
 wept a little weep, one of the Polawees would 
 lead her to the river and make her laugh at the 
 funny face looking up from the crystal mirror. 
 
 But Rowena remembered the words of the boy 
 in shining white : 
 
 "Yes, but she had her arms around them 
 while they looked. It was her love that helped 
 them." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 r 
 
 WHEN Lois and Hal went home from their 
 visits to Wenonah they would repeat her 
 stories as well as they could to their 
 father and mother, who liked them very much. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bobbins gave the Indian maiden 
 many pleasant times in return for her kind- 
 ness to their children. One day it would be a 
 picnic, another day a sail, and the more they saw 
 of Wenonah the better they liked her. 
 
 Mrs. Bobbins asked her one day about her 
 Winter home and how she lived ; and she could 
 see that the Indian girl, on account of her educa- 
 tion, had many trials in the manner of living of 
 her own people. Mrs. Bobbins asked her how 
 she would like to go home to Boston with them. 
 
 " I am sure/' she said, " that those clever fin- 
 gers of yours must be able to sew as well as 
 weave, and I think you could be very useful in 
 our home. My children are so fond of you they 
 would be delighted I know, if you would come." 
 
 Wenonah's eyes shone and looked far away, 
 and she smiled. 
 
 Ill 
 
112 WENONAH'S STORIES 
 
 "That would be happiness," she said, "but I 
 can help my own people and they need me." 
 
 There came a day when the Indians took down 
 their tents because the Summer folk were leaving 
 and they could not sell anything more. They 
 went away and took Wenonah with them and 
 Lois and Hal had lumps in their throats when 
 they bade the Indian girl good-bye. 
 
 " Another Summer, perhaps," she said to com- 
 fort them, and her own eyes grew wet, for the 
 children had been a great joy to her in her lone- 
 liness. 
 
 She gave them each a sweet-grass basket with 
 a cover as a parting present, and they put them 
 inside the rougher ones they had made them- 
 selves. That charming perfume would always 
 make them think of the bright plumage, the 
 shining braids and the flashing eyes of their new 
 friend. 
 
 " Please be thinking up stories all Winter, will 
 you, Wenonah ? " asked Hal. 
 
 She promised ; and at Christmas-time the chil- 
 dren sent her a book of interesting tales to enter- 
 tain her through the long, cold Winter evenings 
 as she had entertained them through many a 
 sunny afternoon. 
 
 They wrote her, also, of a wonderful Christ- 
 mas gift they had received, themselves. A baby 
 sister had come to their house and they were try- 
 ing to decide on a name for her. They wanted 
 
FAREWELL 113 
 
 to call her Wenonah, they wrote, but their 
 mother said her nose wasn't straight enough ! 
 
 " But we will tell her all about you," wrote 
 Lois, " and we'll bring her with us next Summer. 
 She's such a little, tiny thing ! Hal and I told 
 her about Lily-bud and Rose-Petal and she 
 smiled. We think perhaps she knows them. 
 We can hardly wait until she grows big enough 
 to tell us. Good-bye, Wenonah. Good-bye." 
 
 
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 cleanliness, purity and good story-telling. As is the case with all of 
 Mr. Hayes' works, the religious feature is pronounced; but because these 
 are the "times which try men's souls" this feature seems much less con- 
 spicuous by comparison, and gives greater strength to "The Princess 
 Sofia'! than to any of the previous books that nave come from his pen. 
 
 THE MAN OF CLAY 
 
 Cloth binding $ i. oo, by mail $ 1. 10. 
 
 Senator John D. Works says of The Man of Clay: "I have just finished 
 reading a book entitled 'The Man of Clay* which every one ought to 
 read, because of its high literary and moral standard. Such books as 
 these are a benefit to all who read them." 
 
 THE GREAT PHYSICIAN 
 
 Cloth binding 50 i, by mail 55 Cardboard binding 256 by mail 28 f. 
 A delightful story of resurrected Hope and Faith in the healing power 
 of Divine Love. One who has expended his health and energies in the 
 turmoil of business and has vainly sought a remedy for his ills, is at last 
 recommended to try the Great Physician, "who heals all our diseases." 
 
 A PRINCE OF THE REALM 
 
 Cardboard binding 256 by mail 27 
 
 This beautiful story tells of the way in which Divine Love meets every 
 human need. It is the helpful experience of one who found, after a long 
 search for his rightful inheritance, the truth of the Master's words: "The 
 Kingdom of Heaven is within you." , 
 
 THE PEACEMAKERS 
 
 Cloth binding $1.00, by mail $1.10. 
 
 A Tale of Love, dealing with the coming of a world-wide peace through 
 the practical application of the Golden Rule and the realization of the 
 One Mind. The story of a Zenda Kingdom, which is protected and 
 caved through the power of Love. The first edition of 5000 was ex- 
 hausted on the day of publication. 
 
 BIBLE STORIES RETOLD 
 
 Cloth binding. Twelve full page illustrations, being reproductions 
 of Famous Paintings. Price 75 & by mail 85 . 
 
 Sixth edition revised and enlarged. 
 
 Judging from the rapid sale of this volume of Bible Stories Retold from 
 a spiritual viewpoint, they have met a need that has long been felt. The 
 stories are written in a manner to teach Children the lesson of RIGHT 
 THINKING found in the lives of the Bible characters. 
 
 AN INTERPRETATION OF THE NINETY-FIRST PSALM. 
 THE TEN COMMANDMENTS AND THE BEATITUDES. 
 
 "^ Cardboard binding 25 i, by mail 28 #. 
 
 Buy these from your bookseller. If he hasn 't them, order direct from 
 
 THE HARMONY SHOP, 38 West Street, BOSTON 
 
BOOKS BY KATHERINE M. YATES 
 
 MARJORIE AND THE DREAM SERIES 
 
 UP THE SUNBEAMS / SIX \ BY THE WAYSIDE 
 
 THROUGH THE WOODS I -JT I ON THE WAY THERE 
 AT THE DOOR \BOOKS/ ALONG THE TRAIL 
 
 Price 50 cents each. By mail 54 cents each. 
 
 The Books are bound in Boards and printed with individual Cover 
 Designs in two and three colors. 
 
 The plan adopted in this series is to convey in simple allegorical style 
 certain fundamental truths. Each tale is complete in itself. Although 
 written in fairy tale fashion, they are read even more widely by adults 
 than by children, since the allegories are such as appeal to every really 
 thinking mind, and the simplicity of expression tends to strengthen the ap- 
 peal. Mrs. Yates has received hundreds of letters from little folks telling 
 how they have applied the ideas and a large number from grown persona 
 who know and love the stories. 
 
 THE GREY STORY BOOK. Price 50 cents. By mail 54 cents. Board 
 binding. 
 
 Eight stories, written primarily for children. It has found many ap- 
 preciative friends among older people as well. 
 
 CHET. Price $1.00. By mail $1.10. Cloth binding, 345 pages, illus- 
 trated. 
 
 A volume that is worth your special consideration; its object being to 
 correct a large number of false conceptions held by many, relative to what 
 Christian Scientists really believe. It is for young and old. 
 WHAT THE PINE TREE HEARD. Price 50 cents. By mail 54 cents. 
 Cardboard binding with design in three colors. 
 
 A sweet little story, earnest in sentiment and full of the confidence of a 
 "Lover of the Truth." It is one of the most popular of Mrs. Yates' 
 books. 
 
 CHEERY AND THE CHUM. Price 50 cents. By mail 60 cents. 
 Board binding, cover design in four colors. 
 
 Distinctively a book for little folks. Wholesome and sweet. It per- 
 fectly fills the demand for a book a mother can read to her little ones with- 
 out having to skip or excuse error. 
 ANY TIME. Price 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. Paper edition. 
 
 If you feel that you have not enough time to read and study all that you 
 would wish, it will be well worth while to spend ten minutes reading this 
 refreshing book. It is a charming little allegory. It will make you think. 
 And perhaps when you have read it you will find that you have more time 
 than you think. 
 
 FROM CELL TO SUNLIGHT. Price 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 Paper edition. 
 
 Another of Mrs. Yates' inimitable little allegories. It is not new, having 
 appeared some years ago in The Christian Science Sentinel. Its theme is 
 that of a man's seeming imprisonment under the supposed laws of mortal 
 mind, and his release through the proven futility of these laws and their 
 impotence in the face of truth recognized. 
 
 THE QUESTIONS OF MY FRIEND. Price 25 cents. By mail 27 
 cents. Paper edition. Cover printed in three colors. 
 
 This thesis, reprinted because of many requests, appeals to those who 
 find it difficult to answer wisely questions put to them as to what Christian 
 Scientists actually do believe, and the reason for some of their actions. 
 It is practical, good-natured and friendly, answering with definiteness such 
 questions as our friends often ask. 
 
 Buy these from your bookseller. If he hasn 't them, order direct from 
 
 THE HARMONY SHOP, 38 West Street, BOSTON 
 
BOOKS BY MARY HORNIBROOK CUMMINS 
 
 BILLY RABBIT AND HIS FRIENDS. Cardboard binding, cloth re- 
 inforced. Printed in colors. Price 35 cents. By mail 39 cents. 
 
 Delightful animal stories for children, truths of right living and thinking 
 skilfully suggested. Profusely illustrated by W. R. Davis. 
 THE STORY OF RICHARD TRENT. Cloth binding $1.00. By mail $1.15. 
 
 This book is a building up of the fundamentals of true religion, of those 
 things dear to the heart of every Christian, regardless of class or creed. 
 RENATUS. Cloth binding. Price $1.00. By mail $1.12. 
 
 Few can read the laying bare of a strong woman's soul, as depicted in 
 this story, without failing to grasp the valuable lesson which it teaches. 
 OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES. Board binding, 50^. By mail 55^ Not 
 a juvenile, but it may be read by children and adults with equal pleasure. 
 THE AWAKENING. Cloth binding. Price $1.00. By mail $1.10. 
 
 The fact that thought, when at one with divine power, can become a 
 great revolutionary power for good, is forcibly shown in this story. 
 A LITTLE CHILD. Paper edition, 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 A direct and powerful appeal to the spirit of youth, which lies hidden 
 somewhere in the heart of each of us. 
 THE MIGHTY GUEST. Paper edition, 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 Few of those who read this little book can do so without gaining a 
 broader charity and a kinder, more helpful viewpoint toward all mankind. 
 FRIENDSHIP. Paper edition, cover in colors. 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 Here is a little book depicting Friendship and that interchange of uplift- 
 ing thought in the family which strengthens home ties. 
 
 BOOKS BY ANNIE L. FISHER 
 
 PARSON GRAY. Paper cover in colors. 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 This charming narrative poem deals with the awakening of a pastor, 
 successful in a worldly way, to the higher ministry through which the 
 teachings of the Saviour are made of practical value to his people. 
 SONGS OF COMFORT. Paper edition, cover design printed in three 
 colors. 35 cents. By mail 38 cents. A collection of poems now in their 
 third edition. Not a poem in this volume but what is helpful and inspiring. 
 MY LITTLE OLD-TIME GARDEN. Paper edition, 25*. By mail 27*. 
 
 This poem will not only interest lovers of poetry, but lovers of nature as 
 well. In it will be found many new inspirations for nobler living. 
 THE CITY OF SWEET CONTENT. 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 This little booklet is now in its fifth edition. Just the little volume for 
 your library table or for an inexpensive gift. 
 COMFORTED. (A little poem.) Paper edition, 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 There are many helpful suggestions for those in need of comfort. 
 LITTLE VERSES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE. Paper edition, 25*. By mail 27*. 
 
 This gift book is in the A, B, C form with twenty-eight charming in- 
 structive verses. Attractively decorated and printed in colors. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 LOVE IS BEST. BY AGNESS GREENE FOSTER. Paper edition, Imi- 
 tation levant leather, and printed in colors. 25 cents. By mail 27 cents. 
 
 A collection of helpful and inspiring short poems by a well-known writer. 
 A HERESY OF YESTERDAY. BY CYRENUS M. LANE. Cloth binding 
 50 cents. By mail 55 cents. Paper edition, 25 cents. By mail 28 cents. 
 
 A strong but genial narrative into which the mighty undercurrent of 
 Truth is so deftly woven that it holds even the veriest unbeliever. 
 FAITH. BY GERTRUDE WILSON. Paper edition, 25^ By mail 27^ 
 
 A simple yet very profound thesis. This book cannot help but be of 
 great assistance to those who find it difficult to grasp the fulness of Truth. 
 ARE THE BIRDS SINGING? BY ANNA R. HIGLEY. 25*. By mail 27*. 
 
 Though we may not stand in pleasant places, this little book shows us 
 how Truth always sings for us and how the good alone is real and eternal. 
 
 Buy these from your bookseller. If he hasn 't them, order direct from 
 
 THE HARMONY SHOP, 38 West Street, BOSTON 
 
W. 
 
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
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