uperior disgust:

"Such a great big girl, and can't read your Bible! You must be a
heathen, and bow down to wood and stone."

"Maybe I am. I don't remember bowing down to anything, except when I
say my prayers."

"Your prayers! Then you can't be a real heathen. Heathens don't say
prayers, not our kind. Hmm. What lovely eyes you've got and how pretty
you are! All the women never saw such wonderful hair as yours, nor the
men either. I heard them say so. If I had a sister, I'd like her to
look just like you. But it's wicked to be vain."

"What do you mean, you funny boy?"

"I'm not funny. I'm serious. My mother--my mother said--my mother--Oh!
I want her! I want her!"

Religion, superiority, priggishness, all flew to the winds as his real
and fresh grief overcame him; and it was a heart-broken lad that
hurled himself against the shoulder of this sympathetic-looking girl
who, though so much taller, was not so very much older than he.

The Sun Maid's own heart echoed the cry with a keen pain, and she
received the orphan's outburst with exceeding tenderness. Now,
whatever One, the eldest, did the other young numerals all imitated,
so that each was soon weeping copiously. Yet, from very excess of
energy, their grief soon exhausted itself and they regarded each other
with some curiosity. Then Three began to smile, in a shamefaced sort
of way, not knowing how far his recovery of composure would be
approved by sterner One.

After a habit familiar to him the latter opened his lips to reprove
but, fortunately, refrained, as he discovered a tall, stoop-shouldered
man crossing the parade-ground.

This gentleman seemed oddly out of place amid that company of
immigrants and soldiers. Student and bookworm was written all over his
fine, intellectual countenance, and his eyes had that absent
expression that had made the commandant's wife call him a "dreamer."

His bearing impressed the Sun Maid with reverent awe; a feeling
apparently not shared by his sons. For Three ran to him and shook him
violently, to secure attention, as he eagerly exclaimed:

"Oh, father! We've found one of 'em already! A heathen. Or, any way, a
heatheny sort of a girl, but not Indian. She doesn't know how to read,
and she hasn't any Bible. Come and give her one and teach her quick!"

"Eh? What? A heathen? My child, where?"

"Right there with my brothers. That yellow-headed girl. She's nice.
Are all the heathen as pretty as she is?"

"My son, that y