The one that whistled has gone on. But another came in just like it, and made just such a noise. Your brother was here awhile ago. He said the water-house had many looking-glasses all round it, and when it came in it was so tired, it breathed so hard, it made us almost deaf.”
“Say, mother, let us go and see.”
But mother said,—
“No, your brother said there were so many white people that one can hardly get along. We will wait until your grandpa comes, and hear what they all say. A’n’t you hungry, my child?”
I said, “Yes.”
“Your brother brought something that tastes like sugar.”
It was cake, and I ate so much it made me sick.
I was sick all day and night, and the next day I had the chills. Oh, I was very, very sick; my poor mother thought I would die. I heard her say to grandpa one day,—
“The sugar-bread was poisoned which your white brother gave us to eat, and it has made my poor little girl so sick that I am afraid she will die.” My poor mother and brothers and sisters were crying; mother had me in her arms. My grandpa came and took me in his arms and said to me,—
“Open your eyes, dear, and see your grandpa!” I did as he told me, because I had not forgotten what mother had said to me, to do whatever he told me to do, and then he would love me. The reason I had not opened my eyes was because my head ached so badly that it hurt me so I shut them again. My poor mother cried the more, and all our people gathered around us and began to cry. My mother said to grandpa,—
“Can there be anything done for her?”
“Dear daughter,” he said, “I am sorry you have such
