night and went to her own room. She undressed and then sat down by the window, bye and bye she began repeating fragments of poetry.
"She was thinking of a hunter,
From another tribe and country,
Young and tall and very handsome,
Who one morning, in the Spring-time,
Came to buy hor father’s arrows,
Sat and rested in the wigwam,
Lingered long about the doorway,
Looking back as he departed.
She had hoard her father praise him,
Praise his courage and his wisdom;
Would he come again for arrows
To the falls of Minnehaha
Minnehaha, laughing water?
On the mat her hands lay idle
And her eyes were very dreamy.”
Bianca’s were. Presently with a smile; "I am getting sentimental; I mustn’t say that "young and tall and very handsome," and think of him. Pooh! It can never be. Why do I think of him? It does me no good; on the contrary it does me harm. Ho is a bra of Burleigh. Now-a-days lords do not come to woo village maidens; and besides I am no village maiden; neither am I pretty. So be off,—all dreams never to be fulfilled,"—and half jestingly yet with rather a sad smile she went to bed. After a time she got up. "I have not prayed. How wicked I am getting.” And kneeling down beside the bed, she prayed earnestly for forgiveness and peace; and then she went back to sleep.
