tie; "yes, I think I could. I would try very hard."
"She will only waste the beads," said Black-bird, spitefully, seeing that her mother was sorting out some to give to Nattie.
"No I won't," the child ventured to say; "if I can't make the letters, I'll bring back the beads all safe."
"The old squaw handed her some white ones, and a strip of red cloth. Nattie wanted some other colors, but she didn't say anything. Only too glad to get these, she returned to her corner, strung them on the horse-hair, and set her little brown hands to the task of shaping the letters. Now, Nattie had three names,—"Nathalie Norton Nesmith;" but she found that the strip of cloth was only long enough to hold two of them. The beads, also, were likely to fall short. So, when she got the letters all shaped as well as she could, the name stood, "Nathalie Norton."
Fox Heart cried:
