st reassuring
and eleemosynary smile, "does the government feed you often,
you--a--poor Indians?"

"Not had--what you call it?--round meal--no, square meal," the Indian
replied, making an explanatory parallelogram with his hands, "in four
moons."

"Moonss?--moonss? What does he mean by moonss?"

Before the lady had time to make sure of her own knowledge on the
subject, Ogla-Moga began a wild and mysterious pantomime, which caused
Bridget, who had her eye steadily on the strange monster, and kept
close to the window as an avenue of desperate retreat, to exclaim:
"Mither of Moses! what's the baste going to do?" Ogla-Moga was
throwing his arm up in the air with a fierce swing, suddenly crooking
his elbow, and bringing his closed hand to his mouth, while he rolled
his eyes around the room with a melodramatic ferocity, evidently
intended to convey the idea of extreme rapture.

"Poor Ogla-Moga!" said Miss Slopham; "he wants something to drink.
Give him a glass of ice-water, Bridget, and have it perfectly clear.
It may remind him of the water he used to drink from the brooks of his
far-off forest home;" and here Miss Slopham, in her turn, wiped a tear
from her eye. Indeed, the crystal particle was apparently so surprised
to find itself on the good lady's cheek that it seemed to disappear of
its own accord.

Ogla-Moga looked at the innocent glass of Croton that was handed him
with undisguised disdain; but he swallowed his thoughts, whatever they
were, with the water, and signified that his meal was ended.

And now for the first time the extent of the task she had undertaken
became apparent to Miss Slopham. What was to be done with this
terrible infant from the prairies during the week of seclusion that
her plan made necessary? She lived alone, except for the companionship
of Bridget, and it was asking a good deal of a timid and shrinking
nature like Miss Slopham's to take into her little household a
gentleman who rolled his eyes in such an alarming manner. Then, too,
there were the proprieties, against which sins could not be committed
even in the name of reform. Yet what else was there to be done? He
could not be sent to a hotel: that meant publicity, and perhaps
recapture by the emissaries of a cruel and unsympathetic government.
She could not ask a friend to take him in. He could not be sent
anywhere without danger. Finally a brilliant thought struck her
just as she was on the verge of distraction, with Ogla-Moga's b