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Page 19 text:
White Kiiffnlo I Jncle promised to tell us the story of White Buffalo, an Indian who was his guide while he was exploring the Great Lake Territory. Everybody gathered around the fireplace and he began: " It was midspring and everything was going fine until I woke up one morning to find myself securely tied. I looked to see if Chita, my partner, was tied. He was, but still asleep. I woke him up. He let out an oath that shook the mountains in protest, but, on finding himself tied, he turned and looked at me in astonishment and said, ' Whose joke is this? " " Til be blamed if I know, ' I said. We got untied and looked around the camp. Our guide, White Buffalo, was gone. Chita called my attention to the trail of the intruders. We packed what food we had left. Luckily for us the Indians, we had found out they were Indians by the type of footprints because there is no arch print, had overlooked our guns, powder, and ball. " We didn ' t intend to attack. We wanted to find out who the Indians were that had captured White Buffalo. About noon we came to a cliff overlooking a small lake. Chita, who had gone a little to the left, mo- tioned for me to come. He pointed down to the base of the cliff and ut- tered the single word, ' Hurons. ' I grew cold. A clammy feeling crept over me. That word was terror on the frontier. We concealed ourselves in some bushes. We had a good view of the village. We were to be the unseen spectators of the torture of White Buffalo. There was a stake at the edge of the village with a circle of bushes around it. At the side was a fire by which were seated two warriors. One was turning a bar of metal in the fire. The rest of the people were at the other end of the village except a couple of playful boys who were dancing around the torture stake. " Presently the noisy crowd began to move toward the stake. Two warriors were leading a young but perfectly built Blackfoot warrior. It was White Buffalo. The children were spitting and throwing sticks at the tall, muscular warrior, who paid no heed to them. He didn ' t seem to be moved by the fact that he would soon die, but instead he looked straight ahead and walked with his same, easy stride. The Hurons are known to eat the hearts of brave warriors whom they capture. White Buffalo was bound by the feet securely, but his hands were tied by some warrior who was too excited to tie carefully. " The chief came up and asked White Buffalo some questions. He then drew the bar of hot metal out of the fire with a piece of buckskin and proceeded to roll it down White Buffalo ' s legs. This did not change the expression of his face, which was as calm as yours or mine right now. " Just then there was a sharp crack of a gun. Chita had fired. The chief staggered and fell face down at the feet of White Buffalo. The warriors by force of habit ran for their weapons, momentarily forgetting their captive. The hot, metal bar fell on the buckskin bonds which held him, burning clear through them. White Buffalo picked up the hot,
Page 18 text:
Tuffy " Jt ' s a dime anyway, isn ' t it, old pal? It won ' t be long before I have the rest and can take you home with me. " Dickie spoke through the win- dow to the little pup with whom he had made friends. After school each evening Dickie rushed to the store window to make sure Turfy hadn ' t been sold. Dickie sold papers to help his father, who was not strong, secure food for them. This evening as he was on his way to get his bundle of papers, he stopped to talk to Tuffy and encourage him by showing him the dime he was going to put away to buy him. Conversation drifted out from the store as a very well-dressed man came toward the entrance to leave. " I ' ll come for him in about an hour. I ' m sure my little girl will like him, " said the man. As the large car rolled away, the storekeeper placed a card in the win- dow. Dickie saw the terrible word " Sold " in large, black letters. He was so grieved that he forgot his papers and stood with his nose pressed to the glass. Tuffy jumped up against the window and licked it as though he could read the look on Dickie ' s face. Dickie tried to speak to his friend, but his voice was choked. At last the fatal hour was up, and Dickie saw the tall man get out of his automobile. In the car sat a little girl about four years old playing with a red ball. Back in the store Dickie saw a lovely collar being fitted around Tuffy ' s neck. Blinded with tears, he started once more on his way when his foot struck a red ball which rolled out into the street. Quick as a flash the little girl was out of the car and after the ball. Dickie dashed after her. With all his strength he pushed her to safety, unable to avoid the approaching car himself. As he came out of the store, Tuffy saw his friend lying in the street. Breaking away from his new master, he darted to Dickie ' s side and refused to be separated when the man lifted him into The hospital room was very quiet when Dickie opened his eyes. He felt a pain in his head and he turned to see where he was. He felt a warm, furry body against his hand, and looking down he saw his dear Tuffy. " He ' s going to be yours, " said the nurse bending over the white bed to pat the little dog, " a father ' s reward for saving his little daughter. " " Good old boy, " Dickie murmured, as he fell into a quiet sleep. his car. Nancy Ann Smith. Mother ' s Cookies Mother ' s baking cookies, And, oh, they do smell good! Noiv they ' re in the oven. I would take one if I could! Mother says they ' re almost done. I can hardly wait, And, when at last they ' re finished, I always eat ' most eight. Some time you come to our house On mother ' s baking day, And you can have some cookies Made the good, old-fashioned way. Georgeanna Hays.
Page 20 text:
metal bar and flung it at the oncoming warriors who were making to- ward him. Two more sharp cracks were heard! Two more Huron war- riors fell dead! The other warriors became confused. Some turned to see where the shots had come from while others tried to get to White Buffalo, who had disappeared into the forest at the side of the village. We circled and found White Buffalo running swiftly toward us. He had discovered a river and a canoe, which he said were not far away. " Hurons no good trackers, ' he said. ' Much harder to find trail if go in canoe. ' After three days and nights of hard traveling we reached the fort unharmed except for White Buffalo ' s burns. " Douglas Miller. Cultan was a beautiful turkey. His feathers, now used as a duster, had slender, white stripes which looked very enchanting against the dusky background. Every evening at six o ' clock it was my duty to feed Sultan. As king of the barnyard he felt that it was beneath his dignity to eat with the common fowl. One day a small boy came to stay at the farm for his health. His mother had left orders that nothing must hurt her darling son. We could not punish him in any way. David was a very naughty, little boy, and it was with remarkable self-control that we refrained from spanking him. Sultan never had a peaceful moment after David ' s arrival. David would perch on the branch of a tree and with a long pole give short, vicious jabs at the poor turkey. The result was that Sultan became a maniac. He pecked at everyone who came near him. I, the feeder of the turkey, was afraid to go near the old bird, but I certainly could not admit my fear to the family. After many days of scheming, my brother and I thought of a plan which would surely work successfully. We knew well that David was not ill. He was just petted, so, after everyone was in bed, Jim and I stole softly out to the barnyard. With us we carried a butterfly net, some string, and a white cloth. After a little struggle we managed to capture Sultan, tie his legs, and cover him with the white cloth. Softly, oh! so softly, we sneaked onto the porch to David ' s window where we pushed Sultan into his room. David slowly opened his eyes. What was this strange presence which he felt? He sat up in bed and gazed speechlessly. There was a white thing moving about the room! Then with a loud shriek he bounded into mother ' s room. Mother gathered David in her arms and quieted his fears. She went into his room where she saw Sultan emerging from a white covering. The next morning at breakfast Jim and I put cushions in our chairs before we sat down. What mattered a spanking for we had accomplished our purpose? David never bothered Sultan again. Constance Barker.
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