instinctively how to use them, which was partly due to her proficiency
in fancy dancing. But they all learned, and greatly enjoyed the
interesting exercise.

Cousin Jack presented the children with the clubs they used, and they
promised to practise with them often.

"It'll be good for you growing young people," said Mr. Maynard, "and you
can form a sort of a Pocahontas Club."

Then he had a gramophone brought out to the lawn, and they whisked their
clubs about to inspiriting Indian music.

"Now, I dare say you're tired," said Cousin Jack, "for Indian club
exercise is a strain on the muscles. So sit in a circle on the grass,
and we'll all smoke pipes of peace and swap stories for a while."

The "pipes of peace" turned out to be pipes made of chocolate, so they
were all willing to "smoke" them.

"Mine's a pipe of pieces!" said Midget, as she broke the stem in bits,
and ate them one by one.

The others followed her example, and the pipes had disappeared before
the story-telling fairly began.

But Cousin Jack told them some thrilling Indian tales, and so interested
were his hearers that they gathered close about him, and listened in
absorbed silence.

"Was that true, Cousin Jack?" asked King, after an exciting yarn.

"Well, it's in a story-book written by James Fenimore Cooper. You're old
enough to read his books now, and if I were you children, I'd ask my
parents to buy me some of Cooper's works."

"I'm going to do that," cried Hester, her eyes dancing at the thought of
reading such stories for herself. "I never heard of them before."

"Well, you're young yet to read novels, but Cooper's are all right for
you. You might read one aloud in your Sand Club."

"Yes, we will!" said King. "That'll be fine. Then one book would do for
us all. Or we might each get one, and then lend them around to each
other. My, we're getting lots of new ideas from our celebration. Indian
club exercises and Cooper's stories are worth knowing about."

"And now," said Cousin Jack, "if you're rested, suppose we march along
Indian File, and see if we can come across an Indian Meal."

"Ho, ho!" laughed King, "I don't want to eat Indian meal!"

"We'll see what it is before we decide," said Midget, judicially. "What
is Indian File, Cousin Jack?"

"Oh, that only means single file, or one by one. _Not_ like the Irishman
who said to his men, 'March togither, men! be twos as far as ye go, an'
thin be wans!' I want you to go 'be wans' all