"'Now red man know white squaw friend, for she not afraid give child.'
"And after that, all the time her husband was gone, the Indians brought venison and game, and were real kind to the lady. Wasn't it nice?"
The children drew long breaths of relief.
"I don't think I could have been so brave," declared Kitty.
"Now I'll tell you a story which I made up myself," said Romaine, who was of a sentimental turn. "It's called the Lady and the Barberry Bush.
"Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a lady who loved a barberry bush, because its berries were so pretty, and tasted so nice and sour. She used to water it, and come at evening to lay her snow-white hand upon its leaves."
"Didn't they prick?" inquired Molly, who was as practical as Romaine was sentimental.
"No, of course they didn't prick, because the barberry bush was enchanted, you know. Nobody else cared for barberry bushes except the lady. All the rest liked roses and honeysuckles best, and the poor barberry was very glad when it saw the lady coming. At last, one night, when she was watering it, it spoke, and it said,—'The hour of deliverance has arrived. Lady, behold in me a Prince and your lover!' and it changed into a beautiful knight with barberries in his helmet, and knelt at her feet, and they were very happy for ever after."
"Oh, how short!" complained the rest. "Eyebright's was a great deal longer."
"Yes, but she read hers in a book, you know. I made mine up, all myself."