Sometimes he translated his tales into action and on Saturdays played Indian with any of the neighborhood who wished to join in the games. He was Chief Indian or Chief Scout and the battles which ensued were endlessly exciting. He bore on his nose the marks of one raid, after some chasee, during the heat of the battle, had tried to push shut the sliding door to the hayloft just as the Chief Indian had poked his head through the opening.
The barn in Des Moines which was the scene of the Indian Wars and that of my grandmother were the only ones I knew. Being a city child, I was lucky to have any.
Unfortunately I lived at a time when girls were still girls. Though reading was considered proper, many of my outdoor exercises were not. I was fond of basketball, bicycling, tennis, and I tried any and all strenuous games. With no instruction in any sport, I wasn’t good enough in myself to excel later. I wish that the vogue of teaching youngsters to learn correct form in athletics had been as universal then as it is now. With the intense pleasure exercise gave me, I might have attained more skill and more grace than I did. As it was, I just played exultingly, and built up all kinds of wrong habits.
For instance, my horse experience is typical. My sister and I spirited lumps of sugar and confections to a neighbor’s animal. He was too sleek and too tall for us to manage to get on his back. However, the desire to do so obsessed me to such a point that
