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I was too well-bred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping

I was too well-bred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping.jpg We were fond of squashes and ate many of themThumbnailsPicking June berriesWe were fond of squashes and ate many of themThumbnailsPicking June berriesWe were fond of squashes and ate many of themThumbnailsPicking June berries

My father’s earth lodge and Bear Man’s both faced eastward, with the lodge of Blue Paint’s family standing between; but, as I stood at my father’s lodge entrance, I could see the flat top of Bear Man’s lodge over Blue Paint’s roof. Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing had joined the Stone Hammer Society a short while before, and had begun to paint his face like a young man. He would get up on his father’s roof, painted, and decked out in hair switch, best leggings, and moccasins, and sing his society’s songs. He had a fine voice, I thought; and when I went out with my buck-brush broom to sweep the ground about our lodge entrance, Sacred-Red-Eagle-Wing would sing harder than ever. I thought perhaps he did this so that I would hear him. I was too well-bred to look up at him, but I did not always hurry to finish my sweeping.

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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