“Am I to translate that?” I asked.
“If you can and will.”
Having done so, I continued,—“But seriously, Big Otter, I hope you will try to persuade them to come here. Give them a glowing account of the country and the climate, and say I’ll not marry till they come to dance at my wedding. I would not wait for that however, if it were not that Eve thinks she is a little too young yet, and besides, she has set her heart on my father being present. I’ll explain all that in my letters, of course, but do you press it on them.”
“And be sure you tell the dark-haired pale-face,” said Eve, “that Waboose expects her to come. Give these from her friend Fairhair—she was fond of calling me Fairhair.”
Eve rose as she spoke, and produced a pair of beautiful moccasins, which had been made and richly ornamented by her own hands. At the same time she presented the fire-bag to the Indian, adding that she was glad to have had it so nearly ready when he arrived.
“For whom are these pretty things, my dear?” asked Mrs Liston.
“The fire-bag, mother, is for Big Otter, and the moccasins is—”
“Are, Eve—are—plural you know.”
“Is,” replied Eve, with emphasis, “for my dear friend, Jessie, the black-haired pale-face.”
“Well done, Waboose!” exclaimed Aunt Temple. “I’m glad to see that you improve under my tuition.”