"I say we go, Lois," said Hal, his eyes shining.
"If the Indians were there now," said his sister, "I think you would run in the other direction."
"No, I wouldn't," returned Hal confidently. "I'd put on one of those great big war bonnets and tell them I wanted to be a brave and live with them, and I think they'd let me; but I don't think they'd take you, Lois, for they like braves a great deal better than they do squaws."
"I wouldn't be a squaw," returned Lois. "I would be an Indian princess and wear a wonderful red mantle with purple stripes and have chains about my neck, and my hair braided and shining, and beautiful bracelets, and they would all bow down to me—and you'd have to, too."
"No, the chief would take me for his son and I should have a wonderful bow, the longest in the tribe, and shoot my arrows so straight that the other Indians would all say 'Ugh! ugh!' That's what they say when they like anything, isn't it, Daddy?"
"I think it is," returned Mr. Robbins, and Harold ran to get the Indian book to show his sister how he would look shooting arrows before an admiring tribe, because he had found that picture last night, and it had pleased him very much indeed. He found the picture of a princess for Lois and she liked the looks of the straight-nosed beauty, because her own nose turned up a little, and she thought it would be fine to have such a handsome nose and hold her head so proudly. It was almost impossible to hold one's head proudly if one had a turn-up nose.
Her father patted her shoulder as he passed her to leave the room.
"That's right," he said. "Have a good time being a princess this summer, instead of a mermaid. I'll get you a tent if you want it."