"Well," growled Mr. Black, finding it difficult to be stern, with five amused little girls giggling at his back. "If you get any more medicine off your grandmother I'll throw you into the lake."
"Hee ees been dead long tam'—dose gran'modder."
"Took her own medicine, I suppose," said Mr. Black. "Was she French or Indian?"
"Ojibway; som' squaw—som' Injun lady; ma fadaire, he French, from Canadaw—speak no Englise. Ma modder Injun, sam' lak ma gran'modder; he mak' dose medicine, too. Bot' dead, dose fadaire, dose modder."
"No wonder," breathed Henrietta.
"Mees Bettee," said Dave, turning to go, "you breeng dose odder girl—Ah show you how to skeen som' deer. Maybe Ah'm geeve you dose tail. Dose liver—vaire fine meat, dose liver—ees for Jean."
At this the girls found it hard not to laugh outright, because, as they very well knew, Jean heartily disliked liver of any kind. But gentle-mannered Jean, who was always careful not to hurt any other person's feelings, managed to say, prettily:
"Thank you, Dave; you're very good to me."
"You pooty nice girl," returned Dave. "Ah mak' som' med'cine for dose sunburn hon your face."