St Nicholas [serial] . ¢ M» k^I kraf THE VALENTINE. 244 THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD. [February THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD. By George W. Ranck. Once upon a time, there was an Indian wholived in a big woods on the banks of a beautifulriver, and he did nothing all day long but catchfish and hunt wild deer. Well, this Indian hadtwo lovely little daughters, and he named one Sun-beam, because she was so bright and cheerful, andthe other he called Starlight, because, he said, hersweet eyes twinkled like the stars. Sunbeam and Starlight were as gay as butterflies, She could not
St Nicholas [serial] . ¢ M» k^I kraf THE VALENTINE. 244 THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD. [February THE INDIAN GIRL AND HER MESSENGER-BIRD. By George W. Ranck. Once upon a time, there was an Indian wholived in a big woods on the banks of a beautifulriver, and he did nothing all day long but catchfish and hunt wild deer. Well, this Indian hadtwo lovely little daughters, and he named one Sun-beam, because she was so bright and cheerful, andthe other he called Starlight, because, he said, hersweet eyes twinkled like the stars. Sunbeam and Starlight were as gay as butterflies, She could not play, for Starlight was gone, shknew not where; so she took the bright featherout of her hair, and sat down by the river and crie-and cried for Starlight to come back to her. Buwhen her father told her that Starlight was gone tthe Spirit-land of love and beauty, and would bhappy for ever and ever, Sunbeam was comforted. Now, said she, I know where darling Stailight is, and 1 can kiss her and talk to her ~^ #1$. SUNBEAM LETS THE GLAD and as busy as bees, from morning till night. Theyran races under the shady trees, made bouquets ofwild flowers, swung on grape-vine swings, turnedberries and acorns into beads, and dressed theirglossy black hair with bright feathers that beautifulbirds had dropped. They loved each other so much,and were so happy together, that they never knewwhat trouble meant until, one day, Starlight gotvery sick, and before the big moon came over thetree-tops, the sweet Indian child had closed herstarry eyes in death, and rested for the last timeupon her soft little deer-skin bed. And now, forthe first time, Sunbeams heart was full of grief. Sunbeam had heard her people say thatbirds were messengers from the Spirit-land,she hunted through the woods until she foundlittle song-bird, that was too young to fly, f;asleep in its nest. She carried it gently home, pit into a cage, and watched over it and fed it ttderly day after day until its wings grew stro
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