“Oh, it is dreadful! Those great lazy fellows lying about and doing nothing. ‘Noble redmen’ indeed! Ignoble, rather.�
“Well, the Quakers are at work among them. We may expect an improvement in the next generation, if not in this. But here we are at the post. Come, we will go in and look about.�
In addition to the stores and trinkets of Indian manufacture for sale, Lissa was interested in the girls of the Quaker school, who, though dressed in the calico dresses of civilized America, were yet far from the ideal maiden she thought. They were shy, hiding their faces if she looked at or attempted to speak to them. And these were the real American girls, the product of the soil.
“Lissa,� said Nathan, when they were again in their saddles, “Major Andrews, who has charge of the government stores here, offers me a position as bookkeeper in his office this fall and winter, and I think I had perhaps better take it, as I can do little on the farm until spring. What do you think?�
Lissa’s heart sank at the thought of his being away from home, but she answered bravely: “By all means accept it if it will be for the best. It will keep us through the long winter, and we can start fairly upon the farm when the spring comes.�
So it was arranged, and in the years that followed, when crops were blighted from the drought or hot winds, and other accidents impoverished them, Nathan could earn a livelihood at the office desk, and fared better than his neighbors.
CHAPTER VIII
MOTHER AND CHILD
“Come, darling, dinner is ready,� and Mrs. Lucien held out her arms to the tiny sprite who was busily engaged in pinning a scrap of torn lace about a broken-nosed doll, her face a study in its eager intentness of purpose.
“O mamma, has we somefin’ nice?� she exclaimed as her eyes fell on the small table bearing the articles of food. “Why tan’t we have oranges every day?�
“My dear, mamma has not had money to buy them, but a good lady has given mamma work to do, which brings money. Is not baby glad? Maybe we may have good things to eat every meal, for Dolly, now.� Mrs. Lucien kissed the child’s little face passionately, then turned away her own, lest the tears should be seen that trembled in her lashes.