“I am glad you like it,” she said, “but look here;” and she took out of her basket a pair of mocassins, the soles of which were of moose leather, tanned and dressed like felt, and the upper part black velvet, on which various patterns were worked with beads. I think I never saw anything of the kind so exquisite, for those nick-nacks the Nova Scotia Indians make are rough in material, coarse in workmanship, and ineligant in design.
“Which do you prefer?” said she.
“Well,” sais I, “I ain’t hardly able to decide. The bark work is more delicate and more tasteful; but it’s more European in appearance. The other is more like our own country, and I ain’t sure that it isn’t quite as handsome as the other. But I think I prize the mocassins most. The name, the shape, and the ornaments all tell of the prairie.”
“Well, then,” she said, “it shall be the mocassins, you must have them, as the exchange for the book.”
“Oh,” said I, taking out of my pocket the first and second “Clockmakers,” I had no other of my books on board, and giving them to her, “I am afraid, Miss, that I either said or did something to offend you this morning. I assure you I did not mean to do so, and I am very sorry for it.”
“No, no,” she said, “it was me; but my temper has been greatly tried since I came to this country. I was very wrong, for you (and she laid a stress on that word as if I was an exception) have been very kind to me.”
“Well,” sais I, “Miss, sometimes there are things that try us and our feelings, that we don’t choose to talk about to strangers, and sometimes people annoy us on these subjects. It wouldn’t be right of me to pry into any one’s secrets, but this I will say, any person that would vex you, let him be who he will, can be no man, he’d better not do it while I am here, at any rate, or he’ll have to look for his jacket very quick, I know.”
“Mr Slick,” she said, “I know I am half Indian, and some folks want to make me feel it.”
“And you took me for one o’ them cattle,” said I, “but if you knew what was passin’ in my mind, you wouldn’t a felt angry, I know.”
“What was it?” said she, “for I know you won’t say anything to me you oughtn’t to. What was it?”