one's better self that he had taught to the young
prince. But he well knew that she had not a teachable mind. He resolved to
try to reach the same result through Gretchen, whom she upbraided with her
tongue but loved in her heart.

Mrs. Woods had come to regard it as her appointed mission to abuse people
for their good. She thought it tended toward their spiritual progress and
development. She often said that she felt "called to set things right, and
not let two or three people have their own way in everything"--a view of
life not uncommon among people of larger opportunities and better
education.

Benjamin came to school the next morning silent and sullen, and the
master went to him again in the same spirit as before.

"She say I no right here," he said. "She suffer for it. She wah-wah. Look
out for the October moon."

"No, you are a better Indian now."

"Yes; sometimes."

"The better Indian harms no one--one's good self never does evil. You are
to be your good self, and please me."

The young Indian was silent for a time. He at last said, slowly:

"But me know who will."

"Do what, Benjamin?"

"Make her suffer--punish."

"Who?"

"I know a bad Indian who will. He say so."

"You must not let him. You are son of a chief."

"I will try. I no wah-wah now."

At noon Benjamin was light-hearted, and led the sports and games. He was
very strong, and one of his lively feats was to let three or four children
climb upon his back and run away with them until they tumbled off. He
seemed perfectly happy when he was making the others happy, and nothing
so delighted him as to be commended. He longed to be popular, not from
any selfish reason, but because to be liked by others was his atmosphere
of contentment. He was kindly above most Indians, a trait for which his
father was famous. He was even kindly above many of the white people.

The next morning he came to school in good humor, and a curious incident
occurred soon after the school began. A little black bear ventured down
the trail toward the open door, stopping at times and lifting up its head
curiously and cautiously. It at last ventured up to the door, put its fore
feet on the door-sill, and looked into the room.

"Kill it!" cried one of the boys, a recent emigrant, in the alarm. "Kill
it!"

"What harm it do?" said the Indian boy. "Me drive it away."

The young Indian started toward the door as at play, and shook his head at
the young bear, which was o