sent him. But the child she
loved best was none of those in furry coats and fine whiskers that
looked like her; it was the blue-eyed Saint at the top of the table in
his robes of purple and white.

But Saint Ailbe would look about him at his foster mother and his
brothers and would laugh contentedly.

"What a handsome family we are!" he would say. And it was true.

_Who was the Mightier?_[22]

FANNY E. COE

Glooskap, the Indian chief, had returned from the warpath. His foes
were slain or scattered. No other tribe of red men dared to stand
before him.

[Footnote 22: A Tale of the Penobscot Indians.]

Glooskap was very proud of what he had done. "My work is over," he
often said to himself. "Whom else is there for me to conquer? No one."

One day he walked through the village. He was a tall fierce figure
with brightly painted body and brilliant headdress of feathers.

He stopped to speak to an old squaw. He said aloud what he had often
thought, "My work is over, my enemies are dead. Whom is there for me
to conquer?"

The old squaw raised her hand and pointed toward the wigwam. "There
sits one whom no man will ever conquer!" she said.

Glooskap took one stride to the wigwam and raised the canvas door.
Within, seated on the floor, was a fat, happy baby. He was happy
because he was sucking a bit of maple sugar. He opened his bright
black eyes, and stared hard at the gay feathers of the chief.

"Who is he?" asked Glooskap.

"It is the mighty Wasis. But leave him in peace. Otherwise you will be
in sore trouble."

Now the Indian chief had never married. He knew nothing of children
and their ways. But he thought, as is the manner of such, that he knew
everything.

So he knelt on one knee, held out a hand, and smiling sweetly, said,
"Baby, come to me!"

Wasis smiled, but did not stir.

Again the chief smiled kindly and said in a coaxing tone, "Baby, come
to me."

Wasis looked again at the chief. Then he took a bite of the maple
sugar.

Glooskap then arose, frowning; he stamped his foot angrily, and he
spoke savagely. "Baby, come to me."

Wasis dropped his maple sugar. "Goo, goo!" he said; "Goo, goo! Goo,
goo, goo!"

"These must be his war-cries!" thought the chief. "I'll teach him who
is master and must be obeyed."

So he sang his terrible war-songs; he drew his knife and leaped into
the air; he roared his orders to Wasis again and again. "Come to me:
come to me!"

This was too much for th