Praise the Lord, who set us free!
Here we stand amazed and wonder
Such a happy change to see;
The bonds of sin are burst asunder!
Praise the Lord who set us free.
Long we lay in darkness pining,
Not a ray of hope had we!
Now the Gospel Sun is shining:
Praise the Lord who set us free.
In one loud and joyful chorus,
Heart and soul now join will we;
Salvation's Sun is shining o'er us!
Praise the Lord who set us free.

_PART II._

SOME SIOUX STORIETTES

_Part II_

_CONTENTS_

SOME SIOUX STORIETTES.

I. The Dead Papoose.--The Maiden's Feast.

II. Grand Mother Pond.--Oak Grove Mission.

III. Anpetuzapawin.--A Legend of St Anthony Falls.

IV. Aunt Jane--the Red Song Woman.

V. Artemas--the Warrior-Preacher.

VI. Two Famous Missions--Lake Harriet and Prairieville.

VII. The Prince of Indian Preachers.

VIII. An Indian Patriarch.

IX. John--the Beloved of the Sioux Nation.

X. The Martyrs of Old St. Joe.

THE DEAD PAPOOSE

The Indian mother, when her child dies, does not believe that swift
angels bear it into the glorious sunshine of the spirit-land; but she
has a beautiful dream to solace her bereavement. The cruel empty
places, which everywhere meet the eye of the weeping white mother, are
unknown to her, for to her tender fancy a little spirit-child fills
them.

It is not a rare sight to see a pair of elaborate tiny moccasins above
a little Indian grave. A mother's fingers have embroidered them, a
mother's hand has hung them there, to help the baby's feet over the
long rough road that stretches between his father's wigwam and the
Great Chief's happy hunting grounds.

Indians believe that a baby's spirit cannot reach the spirit-land until
the child, if living, would have been old enough and strong enough to
walk. Until that time the little spirit hovers about its mother. And
often it grows tired--oh so very tired! So the tender mother carries a
papoose's cradle on her back that the baby spirit may ride and rest
when it will. The cradle is filled with the softest feathers, for the
spirit rests more comfortably upon soft things--hard things bruise
it--and all the papoose's old toys dangle from the crib, for the dead
papoose may love to play even as the living papoose did.

THE MAIDENS' FEAST

Of the many peculiar customs of the Indians in the long ago, perhaps
the most unique was