In a little book about Omaha there is this story which is told by Bright Eyes, the daughter of an Indian chief. "We were out on a buffalo hunt. I was a little bit of a thing when it happened. Father could neither speak English nor read and write, and this story shows that the highest moral worth can exist aside from all civilization and education.

"It was evening. The tents had been pitched for the night, the camp-fire made, and mother and the other women were cooking supper over it.

"I was playing near my father when an Indian boy, a playmate, came up and gave me a little bird which he had found.

"I was very much pleased. I tried to feed it and make it drink. After I had played with it a long time, my father said to me: 'My daughter, bring your bird to me.'

"When I took it to him he held it in his hand a moment, smoothed its feathers gently, and then said: 'Daughter, I will tell you what you might do with your bird. Take it carefully in your hand out yonder where there are no tents, where the high grass is. Put it softly down on the ground and say as you put it down, "God, I give you back your little bird. Have pity on me as I have pity on your bird."'

"I said: 'Does it belong to God?'

"He said: 'Yes, and He will be pleased if you do not hurt it, but give it back to Him to care for.'

"I was very much impressed and carefully followed out his directions, saying the little prayer he had told me to say."

HIAWATHA'S BROTHERS.

Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in summer,
Where they hid themselves in winter,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."
Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers."
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.