"Oh, I want my mother and my brother Dawée! I want to go to my aunt!" I
pleaded; but the ears of the palefaces could not hear me.

From the table we were taken along an upward incline of wooden boxes,
which I learned afterward to call a stairway. At the top was a quiet
hall, dimly lighted. Many narrow beds were in one straight line down the
entire length of the wall. In them lay sleeping brown faces, which
peeped just out of the coverings. I was tucked into bed with one of the
tall girls, because she talked to me in my mother tongue and seemed to
soothe me.

I had arrived in the wonderful land of rosy skies, but I was not happy,
as I had thought I should be. My long travel and the bewildering sights
had exhausted me. I fell asleep, heaving deep, tired sobs. My tears were
left to dry themselves in streaks, because neither my aunt nor my mother
was near to wipe them away.




II.

THE CUTTING OF MY LONG HAIR.


The first day in the land of apples was a bitter-cold one; for the snow
still covered the ground, and the trees were bare. A large bell rang for
breakfast, its loud metallic voice crashing through the belfry overhead
and into our sensitive ears. The annoying clatter of shoes on bare