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The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine

The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine.jpg The game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babeThe game was to see how many times she could be tossed without fallingThumbnailsThe day was windy and cold, and the bull skin kept the chill air from me and my babe
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For nigh a week my father and my two mothers were busy getting ready the feast foods for the wedding. On the morning of the sixth day, my father took from his bag a fine weasel-skin cap and an eagle-feather war bonnet. The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine. “Take these to Hanging Stone’s lodge,” he said.

Author
Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story
By Waheenee
as told to Gilbert Livingstone Wilson
Illustrator: Frederick N. Wilson
Published in 1921
Available from gutenberg.org
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690*1011
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