contents, Hannah Straight Tree fell back with a laugh. "Now see what
you have done yourself! I did not spill one drop. You cannot say I
did."

Cordelia Running Bird burst into upbraiding exclamations in Dakota,
which, because they wished them to learn to speak English, was a
forbidden language in the school except on Sundays and on holidays. By
an odd mishap of memory, Cordelia was apt to break the rule in moments
of excitement, and she knew the penalty too well.

"Now you have talked Dakota, and you must report yourself," Hannah
Straight Tree said triumphantly. "You wished the dormitory girls would
have to lie in bed--now you must lie in bed yourself. You cannot
feather-stitch or speak to anyone."

The unclean water froze upon the stairs, and Cordelia Running Bird's
work of thawing it with hot water was a long and painful process. When
it was accomplished, though but poorly, she went upstairs a second time,
passing through the front hall to the white mother's room to report that
she had spoken in Dakota.

"Again, Cordelia? How can you forget so often?" said the young white
mother in a seriously inquiring tone.

The little Indian girl's excitement had now given place to
discouragement. She was silent for some time, then she murmured an
original defense.

"The cross thoughts come in Indian, and I speak them out that way.
Che-cha (hateful) means much more in Indian than in English. Dakota