So with his wife and child he fled,

Nor had he where to lay his head.

"With fire and sword the country round

Was wasted far and wide,

And many a tender mother then,

And new-born baby died;

But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory.

"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won
And our good Prince Eugene;"
"Why 't was a very wicked thing!

Said little Wilhelmine;

“ Nay.

-nay-my little girl," quoth he,

"It was a famous victory.

"And everybody praised the Duke

Who this great fight did win."

"But what good came of it at last?"

Quoth little Peterkin:

"Why that I cannot tell," said he,

"But 't was a famous victory."

Blenheim (blěním): a battle fought in 1704 at Blenheim, in Bavaria, in which the Duke of Marlborough, a great English general, and Prince Eugene of Savoy, defeated the French and Bavarians. Wilhelmine: vil ́helmany thousand: 30,000 were killed or wounded.

mēn.

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MANSTIN, THE RABBIT

ZITKALA-SA

ZITKALA-SA (zit-kä ́la-shä) is a young Indian woman whose account of her childhood and school days was published in the Atlantic Monthly in 1900. When she was eight years old she left her home on a Dakota reservation to go to school in the East. Her heart is in the work of bettering 5 the condition of her people.

NOTE. This is a story told to Indian children on winter evenings.

Manstin, the rabbit, was hunting. Suddenly he came upon the edge of a wide brook and his alert eye caught sight of a rawhide rope staked by the water's brink.

"Ah!" exclaimed Manštin, bending over the freshly made footprints in the moist bank of the brook. "A man's footprints! A blind man lives in yonder hut! This rope is his guide by which he comes for water."

Manstin's eyes became fixed upon the solitary dwelling 15 and hither he followed the rope. Quietly he lifted the

door-flap and entered in. An old toothless grandfather, blind and shaky with age, sat upon the ground. He was not deaf, however. He heard the entrance of the stranger and demanded his name.

20 "I am Manstin," answered the rabbit, looking about with curious eyes. "Tell me, I beg of you, what is in those buckskin bags placed against the tent poles?"

"My child, those are full of dried buffalo meat and venison. They are magic bags and never grow empty. Because I am blind and cannot go hunting I have these magic bags of choice food."

Then the old man pulled at the rope which lay by his 5 right hand. "This leads me to the brook where I drink! and this," he said, turning to one on his left, "takes me into the forest, where I feel about for sticks for my fire."

"What luxury!" sighed Manstin. "If I were you I would lean back against a tent pole, and with crossed feet 10 I would smoke sweet willow bark the rest of my days."

"Ah, my child, your eyes are your luxury," said the old man.

"I would give them both for your place," cried Manstin. "Very well," said the old man gravely, "so be it. 15 Take out your eyes and give them to me. Henceforth you are at home here in my stead."

Quickly Manstin took out both his eyes, and the old man, putting them on, went off rejoicing. Truly it was good to see once more.

Meanwhile the blind rabbit filled his pipe with sweet willow bark and leaned lazily against the tent pole.

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"How delightful this is!" he said to himself. Presently, however, he grew thirsty, and he could find no water in the small dwelling. Taking one of the 25

rawhide ropes he started toward the brook to quench his thirst. But as he was young he was unwilling to trudge slowly in the old man's footpath. He was full of glee, for it had been many moons since he had tasted 5 such good food. So he skipped along, jerking the old

rawhide spasmodically, till all of a sudden it gave way and Manstin fell headlong into the water.

The water was cold and the bank was slippery, so that he was exhausted and disgusted before he finally found 10 the old stake and the footpath. He crawled cautiously along until he reached the wigwam, where he sat with chattering teeth and aching limbs.

The sun had set and the night air was chilly, but there was no firewood in the dwelling. Manstin bravely tried the other rope. Soon he stumbled into thickly strewn dry willow sticks. Eagerly with both hands he gathered the wood into his outspread blanket.

When he had a large heap he tied two opposite ends of the blanket together and lifted the bundle upon his back; but, alas! he had unconsciously dropped the rope and now he was lost in the woods. With a bold face he made a start at random. In a moment he found him- 10 self held fast in a tangle of vines so that he could not

get away.

"I am lost in the woods," he cried, "and the old grandfather has gone off with my eyes." But even while he lamented the old man appeared. "Here, Manstin," he 15 said, "take back your eyes. I knew you would not be content in my stead, but I wanted you to learn your lesson. I have had pleasure seeing with your eyes and trying your bow and arrows, but since I am old and feeble I much prefer my own wigwam and my magic bags."

So the old grandfather sat down by the tent pole and filled his pipe with sweet willow bark. But Manstin, with his own bright eyes fitted into his head again, went on happily to hunt in the North Country.

Adapted from "Old Indian Legends."

Manstin: Mansh'tin.

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