Lahoma by J. Breckenridge (John Breckenridge) Ellis
page 59 of 274 (21%)
page 59 of 274 (21%)
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"My name NOT Lahoma Gledware," she interposed in some severity.
"My name, Lahoma Willock. Beautiful name--lovely, like flower --Willock; call me Lahoma Willock--like song of little stream. Gledware, hard--rough." Brick Willock stared at her in amazement. "Where'd you get that from?" "My name Lahoma Willock--Red Feather tell me." He smoked in silence, puffing rapidly. Then--"My name is Brick Willock. How came you to be named Lahoma Willock?" Lahoma suggested thoughtfully--"All white people named Willock?" "There's a few," Willock shook his head, "with less agreeable names. But after all, I'm glad you have my name. Yes--the more I think on it, the more pleased I get. I reckon we're sort of kinfolks, anyhow. Well, honey, this is enough talk about being civilized; now let's make the first move on the way. You want to see your mother's grave, and lay some of these wild flowers on it. That's a part of being civilized, caring for graves is. It's just savages as forgets the past and consequently never learns nothing. Come along. Them moccasins will do famous until I can get you shoes from the settlements. It's seventy mile to Vernon, Texas, and none too easy miles. But I got a pony the first time I ventured to Doan's store, and it'll carry you, if I have to walk at your side. We'll make a festibul march of that journey, and lay in clothes as a girl should wear, and books to last through the winter." |
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