bout the months. All twelve, every
one of the year, sit about the fire. And now and then one of them
stirs the fire, and that makes all the world warmer. July and August,
when it is their turn, make it blaze; but the other months do not care
so much about it. But once in a while each month takes its turn,"
answered Faith. "That's what Colonel Allen told me."

"'Tis a good story," said Mr. Carew. "Did your mother tell you that I
have sent word to your Aunt Priscilla about your going to her house as
soon as some trustworthy traveler going to Ticonderoga passes this
way?"

"Yes, father. But I am learning a good deal at home. Mother says I
read as well as she did when she was my age. And I can figure in
fractions, and write neatly. I do not care much about school,"
answered Faith; for to be away from her mother and father all winter
began to seem too great an undertaking.

"Yes, indeed; your mother tells me you learn quickly. But 'tis best
for you to become acquainted with children of your own age. And you
have never seen your cousins. Three boy cousins. Think of that. Why,
your Aunt Prissy says that Donald is nearly as tall as you are; and he
is but eight years old. And Hugh is six, and Philip four. Then there
are neighbor children close at hand. You will play games, and have
parties, and enjoy every day; besides going to school," responded her
father encouragingly.

Then he told her of his own pleasant school days in the far-off
Connecticut village where Grandmother Carew lived; and when Mrs. Carew
called them to dinner Faith had begun to think that it would really be
a fine thing to live with Aunt Priscilla and become acquainted with
her little cousins, and all the pleasant, well-behaved children that
her father described, with whom she would go to school and play games.

"It is nearly time for Kashaqua's yearly visit," said Mrs. Carew. "I
have knit a scarf for her of crimson yarn. She generally comes before
cold weather. Don't let her see your blue beads, Faith."

Faith did not make any answer. Kashaqua was an Indian woman who had
appeared at the cabin every fall and spring ever since the Carews had
settled there. When Faith was a tiny baby she had come, bringing a
fine beaver skin as a gift for the little girl. She always came alone,
and the family looked upon her as a friend, and always made a little
feast for her, and sent her on her way laden with gifts. Not all the
Indians of the Wilderness were friendly to