The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-05

TT is not"' she said in an undertone,
shaking her head.
I made bold to ask with some warmth
what my name was then, and she whis-
pered-"Poor child"
1t seemed that was to be pitfed in
any case. In dim selfknowledge I saw
that the core Of my resentment was her
treating me with comlniseration. Nine
de Terrier had not treated me SO.
you live among the Indians?' Nine
Tank resumed.
The fact was evident.
Have they been kind to your
I said they had.
Nine. Tanks young daughter edged
near her and inquired in a whisper:
Who is he, mother?'
. "Hush!' answered Nine. Tank.
The head Of the party laid down his
violin and bow, and explained to US:
Mime. Tank was maid Of honor to the
Queen of Holland, before reverses over
took her She knows court secrets
But she might at least tell U.S. coaxed
Annabel If this Mohawk is a Dutch
man
Nine. Tank said nothing.
What could happen in the court OF
Holland? The Dutch are slow coaches.
I saw the Van Rensselaers once, near AL
bany. riding In a wagon with straw under
their feet, on common chairs, the old
PATRON himself driving. This boy Is some
oftscouring.'
He autranks you, mademoiselle." re-
torted Nine. Tank.
That's what I wanted to find out"
said Annabel.
I kept half an eye on Cro9han to see
what he thought of all this woman talk.
For you cannot help being more domi-
mated by the opinion Of your contemporary
les than by that Of the fore running or
following generation. He held his coun-
tenance In excellent commando and did not
NEEDLE even by word You could be
sure, however that lie was no credulous
person who accepted everything that was
said to him.
Nine. Tank looked into the Redeemed
fireplace, and began to speak, but hest
tated. The whole thing was weird. like a
dream resulting from the cut on my head;
the strange white faces; the camp stuff
and saddlebags unpack ed from horses; the
light on the coarse floor; the children lis
tening as to a ghost story; Mile. de Chau-
mont presiding over 1t all. The cabin
had an arched roof and no lott. The top
was full of shadows.
IT you are the boy take you to be-"
Nine. Tank finally said, sinking her voice,
| you may find you have enemies"
IF I am the boy you take me to be,
madame, who am IT,
| She shook her head
II wish had not spoken at all. To tell
! into trouble. You are better of to be as
you are, than to know the truth and
| suffer for it. Besides. I may be mistaken.
| And am certainly too helpless myself to
be Of any use to you. This much / will
! say: when you are older. II things occur
that make it necessary for you to know
| what I know, send a let ter to me, and
! will write it down."
With delicacy Monsieur Grignon began
to play a whisper of a tune on his violin.
\ I did not know what she meant by a let
| ter, though I understood her. Madame
| Tank spoke the language as we'll as any
body. 1 thought then. as idion after
! idiom rushed back on my memory, that it
was an universal language, with the ex-
ception Of Iroquois and English.
I'VE are going to a place called Green
Bay, in the northwest territory, Remem-
Der the name: Green Bay. 1t is In the
| Wisconsin country
~.
Dawn found me lying wide awake with
my head on a saddle. slipped out into
the dewey half light.
That was the first time I ever thought
about the mountains. They seemed to be
newly created. standing up with stream
ers of mist torn and floating across, their
breasts. The winding cliff bound lake was
like gorge Of smoke. I felt as II had
upon my HlQu Ieot, llLIluE lace
from the ground to discover there was g
God. Some Of the prayers our priest hat
industriously beaten into my head, begar
to repeat themselves In twinkling
was a child, lonely In the universe, sepa
rated from my dim old life, instinct will
growth, yet ignorant Of my own needs.
What Madame de Terrier and MADAME
Tank had said influenced me less than tn,
, Intense life Of my reused activities.
1t was mid forenoon by the sun when
reached our lodges, and sat down fagget
, ontside my fathers door. to think longe
, before I entered. Hunger was the prin
cipal sensation, though we had eaten IL
the cabin the night before, and the India,
r life 1nures man to fasting when he can
1 not come by food. I heard skenedonl
= talking to my father and mother in GU
. cabin. The village was empty; children an
i women, hunters and fishermen havin,
= scattered to woods and waters
He ought to learn books" said Skene
= donk. Money Is sent you every year to b,
e spent upon him. yet You spend nothing
r upon him."
What has he needed?" asked m
a father.
It He needs much now. He needs Amer
I lean clothes. He wept at the sight of
4 book God has removed the touch sine
n he plunged in the water"
O you would make fool OF him." said m,
q father. He was gone from the lodge tht
X morning. You taught him an evil pat
when you carried him Off,"
Tt Is a natural path for him. He will e
4 to his own. I stayed and talked with D
" Chaumont, and I bring you an offer. D
y Chaumont will take Lazarre into his house
", and have him taught all that q white DO
:, should know. You will pay the cost. ]
:" you don't, De Chaunlont will look int
"a this annuity of which you give no &C
- count
~ II have never been asked to give &C
- count Could Lazarre learn anything
y The priest has sat over him. He had foo
- and clothing like my own"
=. THAT Is true. But he Is change.
" Marianne will let him co.
20 THE strange boy may CO." said m
y, mother. But none Of my own childre
W. shall leave US to be educated"
I got up and went into the cabin.
three knew had heard, and they waite
III in silence while approached my moth,
and put my hands on her shoulder
There was no tenderness between us, b,
she had fostered me. The small dark ey,
in her copper face, and her shapeless bod
., were associated with winters and sun
mers stretching to vanishing point.
ID Mother" I said, us it true that a
not your son?'
g She made no answer. -
lis it true that the chief Is not n
ut father" .->... 49,.
She made no answer.
to ''Who sends money to be spent on n
every year?'