ostrils. Then
Cornplanter 'ud stop and Red Jacket 'ud take on. Red Jacket was the
better talker of the two. I've laid and listened to 'em for hours. Oh!
they knew General Washington well. Cornplanter used to meet him at
Epply's--the great dancing place in the city before District Marshal
William Nichols bought it. They told me he was always glad to see 'em,
and he'd hear 'em out to the end if they had anything on their minds.
They had a good deal in those days. I came at it by degrees, after I was
adopted into the tribe. The talk up in Lebanon and everywhere else that
summer was about the French war with England and whether the United
States 'ud join in with France or make a peace treaty with England. Toby
wanted peace so as he could go about the Reservation buying his oils.
But most of the white men wished for war, and they was angry because
the President wouldn't give the sign for it. The newspaper said men was
burning Guy Fawke images of General Washington and yelling after him in
the streets of Philadelphia. You'd have been astonished what those two
fine old chiefs knew of the ins and outs of such matters. The little
I've learned of politics I picked up from Cornplanter and Red Jacket on
the Reservation. Toby used to read the _Aurora_ newspaper. He was what
they call a "Democrat," though our Church is against the Brethren
concerning themselves with politics.'

'I hate politics, too,' said Una, and Pharaoh laughed.

'I might ha' guessed it,' he said. 'But here's something that isn't
politics. One hot evening late in August, Toby was reading the newspaper
on the stoop and Red Jacket was smoking under a peach tree and I was
fiddling. Of a sudden Toby drops his _Aurora_.

'"I am an oldish man, too fond of my own comforts," he says. "I will go
to the church which is in Philadelphia. My brother, lend me a spare
pony. I must be there to-morrow night."

'"Good!" says Red Jacket looking at the sun. "My brother shall be there.
I will ride with him and bring back the ponies."

'I went to pack the saddle-bags. Toby had cured me of asking questions.
He stopped my fiddling if I did. Besides, Indians don't ask questions
much and I wanted to be like 'em.

'When the horses were ready I jumped up.

'"Get off," says Toby. "Stay and mind the cottage till I come back. The
Lord has laid this on me, not on you--I wish he hadn't."

'He powders off down the Lancaster road, and I sat on the door-step
wondering after him. When I pick