"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 the way."
So, in single file, they followed Cousin Jack's lead to the wigwam, which they hadn't yet entered. He turned back the flap of the tent, and there was room for all inside. On a table there there were eight Indian baskets, of pretty design. On lifting the covers, each was found to contain an "Indian Meal."
The meal was a few dainty little sandwiches and cakes, and a peach and a pear, all wrapped in pretty paper napkins, with an Indian's head on the corner.
Exercise had given the children good appetites, and they were quite ready to do full justice to the "Indian Meal."