Tornah
Josephs and his niece Susan, of Princeton, Maine, are experts at this
work.] And this dress she shaped like those worn of old. [Footnote:
This remark indicates the lateness of the Micmac version of this very
old myth.] So she made a petticoat and a loose gown, a cap, leggins,
and handkerchief, and, having put on her father's great old moccasins,--
which came nearly up to her knees,--she went forth to try her luck.
For even this little thing would see the Invisible One in the great
wigwam at the end of the village.
Truly her luck had a most inauspicious beginning, for there was one
long storm of ridicule and hisses, yells and hoots, from her own door
to that which she went to seek. Her sisters tried to shame her, and
bade her stay at home, but she would not obey; and all the idlers,
seeing this strange little creature in her odd array, cried "Shame!"
But she went on, for she was greatly resolved; it may be that some
spirit had inspired her.
Now this poor small wretch in her mad attire, with her hair singed off
and her little face as full of burns and scars as there are holes in a
sieve, was, for all this, most kindly received by the sister of the
Invisible One; for this noble girl knew more than the mere outside of
things as the world knows them. And as the brown of the evening sky
became black, she took her down to the lake.
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