;
there was a large bow, and arrows with sharp bits of iron in their
heads, and he was going to shoot a little sparrow which sat upon the
fence, but I caught his arm, and begged him not to kill the poor thing.
I told him God made the sparrow to be happy, and he asked me if I meant
the Great Spirit, if my God was his God? When I told him it was, he put
up his bow and came and sat down by me, and taking a little paper from
his bosom, unrolled it, and there were the daisies which I had given him
so long ago! He asked if the Great Spirit made them, too, and if he had
sent me to give them to him; and when I told him the great Spirit made
all the flowers, made everything, and loved everybody who loved him,
and that he would let his children all come home and live with him
by-and-by, the tears rolled down his cheeks, and he said,--'O! me see my
brothers, then! me not be all alone! Me love Great Spirit; Great Spirit
so good to send little white-face to tell me how to get home.' Then I
could not help crying myself, mother, for I thought I should like to
meet Quady's brothers there."

"Ah! bress de Lord, but it am good as a small bible to hear dat chile
talk;" was heard in a suppressed voice, as it went stable-ward.

Day after day passed, and that little one was often seen, attended by
old Nep, or in the arms of the faithful Vingo, on her way to the low
home over the commons, much to the horror of sensitive mothers, who
shook their heads and said, "she is a strange child." Never was
Sea-flower happier than when she might be allowed to go and see the
Indian; and it was indeed a strange sight to see that red man, the only
representative of a departed tribe, gazing upon the little one, as she
talked to him of Jesus and his word.

The autumn of the year had come. It was one of those soul-stirring days
in October, which cannot fail to arouse the most thoughtless mind to a
sense of the wonderful works of creation. The Sea-flower had gone to the
"low home over the commons." Hand in hand, that red man and the tender
child, they went their way, to where he pointed out the graves of his
people; there were no stones, not a mound to mark the spot. Why was
there need of any? He alone knew the place; none others had cared to
know, until now, when the number of his days had well-nigh been told,
this little child, of a summer's day, had breathed upon those ice-bound
springs, till they had broken their bands, and were gliding on in the
bright