seemed to see herself in her father's lap, telling him some merry tale, or making him laugh with her quaint humor. Then she saw her invalid mother lying on her couch, watching Tiny's baby enjoyment with her playthings, on the floor. Then honest Biddy passed before her, bustling around, broom in hand, "to swape up and sect things to rights," in her usual style.
Alas! the contrast between this picture and Nattie's present state was too painful. She be gan to cry, in her dismal, dark, cold corner. The two little boys looked around, but the old Indian seemed to have followed his wife to dreamland. His pipe had fallen to the ground, and he was snoring loudly from the depths of his blanket.
The larger of the two boys got up and went toward Nattie.
"What makes you snuff and cry?" he asked.
"Because I want to go home and see my father," Nattie said, sobbing away most bitterly.
