been frustrated, had the lovers been united."

All looked inquiringly towards him for an explanation.

"I mean," said he, "that with such a fierce little squaw for a wife,
the gentleman with the unpronounceable name, would not have continued
a man of peace long. There certainly would have been war within the
wigwam, however dense the puffs of smoke from the calumet of peace
outside."

All laughed at the sally, but Anne intimated that she would have
preferred a different termination.

"At least," said Mr. Armstrong, who had listened in silence to the
criticisms of the young people, "it teaches a profitable lesson to you
girls."

"What is that, Mr. Armstrong?" inquired Anne.

"That young ladies should know their own minds."

"A most unreasonable expectation!" exclaimed Anne. "We should become
as stupid--as stupid as reasonable people."

"Besides," said Faith, coming to her friend's assistance, "the story
was intended for the benefit of Indian girls, and not for those who
read Shakspeare."

"I suspect," said Bernard, "that the writer was better acquainted with
the Shakspearean ladies, than with Indian girls."

"Why do you think so?" asked Faith.

"Do you not observe," answered Bernard, "that he confines himself to
generalities? Not a word does he venture to say about the toilette of
the beauty. A description of the dress of the heroine, has always been
considered indispensable in every tale."

"Poh, William!" said Anne, "what a savage critic you are. But,
probably, there was so little to describe, the author did not think it
worth his while."

"And," said Pownal, "is anything admissible in a picture which
distracts the attention and withdraws it from the principal figure?
Good taste excludes ear-rings and gold chains from portraits."

"Well," said Bernard, "I dare say you are right. It may be, too, that
the dress was indescribable."

"Who is this Manabozho, who comes in so opportunely, yet, without
effecting much after all?" inquired Anne. "I am charmed with his
appearance; particularly, his big eyes."

"He is a sort of Indian Hercules," replied Bernard, "who plays a
conspicuous part in many legends. He is a compound of wisdom and
folly, of benevolence and mischief, of strength and weakness, partly
Manitou and partly man, and is privileged to do anything, however
absurd and impossible, at one moment, while, at the next, he may be
shorn of his power, so as to be incapable of taking care of himself."