ely game. In
the midst of the racket the door opens and in comes one of the chief's
runners. As he advances toward the council chamber a young girl comes
whirling down the room turning handsprings. Her feet strike him full in
the chest, and send him flat on his back on the floor. A great roar of
laughter goes up from the braves and squaws sitting around the room, for
the girl who has knocked the runner down is none other than the chief's
own daughter. But the old chief says sadly, 'Why will you be such a
tomboy, my child?'"

"Tomboy, tomboy!" cry all the others, using the Algonquin word for that
nickname. "Who is my girl, and what is her nickname?"

"That's easy," laughed Migwan, "Who but Pocahontas?"

"Was 'Pocahantas' just a nickname?" asked Hinpoha curiously.

"Yes," replied Migwan. "'Pocahontas', or 'pocahuntas', is the Algonquin
word for 'tomboy'. The real name of Powhatan's daughter was Ma-ta-oka,
but she was known ever after the incident Sahwah just related as
'Pocahontas.'"

"I never heard of that incident," said Hinpoha, "but I might have
guessed that Sahwah would take Pocahontas for hers."

"Now you, Agony," said Migwan.

"I see a young girl," began Agony, "tending her flocks in the valley of
the Meuse. She is sitting under a large beech, which the children of the
village have named the 'Fairy Tree.' As she sits there her face takes on
a rapt look; she sits very still, like one in a trance, for her eyes are
looking upon a remarkable sight. She seems to see a shining figure
standing before her; an angel with a flaming sword. She falls upon her
knees and covers her face with her hands, and when she looks up again
the vision is gone and only the tree is left, with the church beyond
it."

"Joan of Arc!" cried three or four voices at once.

"O, _how_ I wish I were she!" finished Agony fervently. "What a life of
excitement she must have led! Think of the stirring times she must have
had in the army!"

"I envy her all but the stake; I couldn't have borne that," said Sahwah.
"Now you, Gladys."

"I see a young English girl, fourteen years old, dressed in the costume
of Tudor England, stealing out of Westminster Palace with the boy king
of England, Edward the Sixth. Free from the tiresome lords and
ladies-in-waiting who were always at their heels in the palace, they
have a gorgeous time wandering about the streets of London until by
chance they meet one of the royal household, and are hustled back to the