departed. "I wish I had a chance to do something big and noble!
The only time I can be heroic is in my sleep, and then I make
myself ridiculous."

"Cheer up, Sahwah," said Hinpoha, "I can't even be heroic in my
sleep. Come on, I'll beat you a game of tennis." And off went
the two cronies, arm in arm.

Gladys came and sat beside Migwan, who was spending her
convalescent days in a steamer chair on the porch of the shack,
where she could watch the girls in the lake and be with them
during Craft hour. Nyoda had summoned a doctor from the village
who proclaimed Migwan's dislocation a slight one and her prompt
setting of it a good thing, and promised that in a few weeks it
would be as good as ever. Meanwhile, however, she had to keep
off her feet, and the enforced rest bothered her more than the
pain did at first. She read a good deal, however, and did much
Craft work, and the days went by somehow.

"What are you doing?" asked Gladys.

"Making a woodblock," said Migwan.

"What's it for?"

"Why, you cut a design in the wood," explained Migwan, "and then
use it to stamp things with, either scarfs or table covers or
book-plates. This is for a book-plate."

"What's a book-plate?" asked Gladys.