“Know one wild flower for each year of your age.”
“Oh, I know nearly enough to win the flower coup,” boasted Paul, looking around at the others.
“Know one garden-flower or shrub for each year of your age.”
Paul nodded that he had done this also.
So Wita-tonkan read on to the last of the requirements now accomplished by Paul, until he read the last one which was: “Know one constellation for each year of age.”
“Oh, I got that one easy! I only had to know three, but I was so near twelve years, that I just learned another one to make four for good measure,” ventured Paul.
“Which is the good measure?” laughed Wita-tonkan.
“I found Orion and know all about him,” declared Paul, then he proceeded to describe the Hunter with his Club.
Bridget, listening intently to this part of the Council procedure, gasped at the information vouched for by Paul.
“Mose, shure an’ that hunter must hev been me ancistor—O’ryan! He war a king ov Oireland, God bliss the old Sod! An’ Oi’m tould that O’ryan alwiss carried a cloob too: a black t’horn cloob it war!”