fortunate one!" she exclaimed as she took the straight-backed chair
offered her. At once the Indian hostess untied the bundles and measured
out a cupful of green coffee beans and a pound of lard. She gave them to
Blue-Star Woman, saying, "I want to share my good fortune. Take these
home with you." Thus it was that Blue-Star Woman had come into
unexpected possession of the materials which now contributed richly to
her breakfast.

The generosity of her friend had often saved her from starvation.
Generosity is said to be a fault of Indian people, but neither the
Pilgrim Fathers nor Blue-Star Woman ever held it seriously against them.
Blue-Star Woman was even grateful for this gift of food. She was fond of
coffee,-that black drink brought hither by those daring voyagers of long
ago. The coffee habit was one of the signs of her progress in the white
man's civilization, also had she emerged from the tepee into a log hut,
another achievement. She had learned to read the primer and to write her
name. Little Blue-Star attended school unhindered by a fond mother's
fears that a foreign teacher might not spare the rod with her darling.

Blue-Star Woman was her individual name. For untold ages the Indian
race had not used family names. A new-born child was given a brand-new
name. Blue-Star Woman was proud to write her name for which she would
not be required to substitute another's upon her marriage, as is the
custom of civilized peoples.

"The times are changed now," she muttered under her breath. "My
individual name seems to mean nothing." Looking out into space, she saw
the nodding sunflowers, and they acquiesced with her. Their drying
leaves reminded her of the near approach of autumn. Then soon, very
soon, the ice would freeze along the banks of the muddy river. The day