"Hillo!" called the miller, when he saw her. "Why, what a nice girl
you are to-day, Dony! Your brother's hard at work, eh? It will all
come right, then."

Donee stood around for a long time, afraid to say what she wanted.

"What is it?" asked the miller's wife.

Donee managed to whisper, if she were to have a party the next day,
could the children come to it? and their mother said: "Certainly, in
the evening."

When the little girl ran down the hill, the miller said: "Seems as
if't would be easy to make Christians out of them two."

"I'm going to do what I can for Donee," said the miller's wife.

It was not so easy for the little red-skinned girl to have a party,
for she had neither jam nor bread, nor butter, not to mention candy.
But she was up very early the next morning, and made tiny little cakes
of corn, no bigger than your thumbnail, and she went to a hollow tree
she knew of and got a cupful of honey, and brought some red haws, and
heaps of nuts, hickory and chestnuts. When Oostogah had gone, she set
out her little dishes under a big oak, and dressed herself in her
lovely frock, though she knew the party could not begin for hours and
hours. The brown cakes and honey, and scarlet haws, were in the white
dishes, and the gold pitcher, with a big purple flower, was in the
middle. Donee sat down and looked at it all. In a year or two Oostogah
would build a house like the miller's, and she should have a blue