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 Tulip, aren't they? She won't stand it very much longer."

The old squaw nodded, and answered:

"I didn't think that she would hold out so long. We shall have to put by the bead-work a spell, and go to basketing. If there is anything that will bring craze and death, it is white beads and colored broad-cloth. I have seen more than one fine, handsome young squaw killed with the work. But we have got a nice pile of cushions made. Tulip has done all the white beading. The other colors are easy enough handled, so my eyes have stood it twice as lung as they could without her help."

"Why don't you keep her at it?" said Black-bird, spitefully; "she don't mistrust what is the matter with her, and you might as well work on."

"It would spoil her," was the answer, "so that she could never be any help to us again, and your father will be angry, if he finds her hurt."