And she climbed right up the tree to the little Wren's nest, and put her
sweet face over the edge of the nest, where the little Wren could see.

That was how the Morning-Glory came to climb.


THE STORY OF LITTLE TAVWOTS[1]

[Footnote 1: Adapted from _The Basket Woman_, by Mary Austin.]

This is the story an Indian woman told a little white boy who lived with
his father and mother near the Indians' country; and Tavwots is the name
of the little rabbit.

But once, long ago, Tavwots was not little,--he was the largest of all
four-footed things, and a mighty hunter. He used to hunt every day; as
soon as it was day, and light enough to see, he used to get up, and go to
his hunting. But every day he saw the track of a great foot on the trail,
before him. This troubled him, for his pride was as big as his body.

"Who is this," he cried, "that goes before me to the hunting, and makes so
great a stride? Does he think to put me to shame?"

"T'-sst!" said his mother, "there is none greater than thou."

"Still, there are the footprints in the trail," said Tavwots.

And the next morning he got up earlier; but still the great footprints and
the mighty stride were before him. The next morning he got up still