"I'm very willing to bear the penalty: if it's a hanging matter, please to imagine that my neck has paid the forfeit--just consider me hung--as the man said at the crowded dinner table, when an irritable fool took offence at something he had spoken, and being too far off to throw his glass of wine in his face, told him '_to consider the wine as thrown at him_.' 'Very well, I will,' replied the first; 'and do you consider this sword as run through your body.'" "A very good retaliation! And what did they do then? Did they fight?" "Not they! They did much better--they laughed, shook hands, and were good friends ever after." "And their honor was as well satisfied as if they had made targets of their bodies, I dare say: it was much more sensible." "But, Cousin Mary," said Amy thoughtfully, "I've been trying to find out the reason why Towandahoc did not take little Emily to the nearest white settler, instead of carrying her off into the wild woods; I think it would have been much better for the poor child." "What do you think was the reason?" replied Mary. "I know!" cried George. "The Indians are such dunces, that old Thunder-Gust, or whatever his name is, hadn't the sense to do such a straightforward thing as that, but must drag the child off through the woods, scratching her finely with the blackberry and whortleberry bushes, no doubt. I'll warrant she screamed and tried to get away, although Cousin Mary does try to made her out so gentle--I know I would." "I declare you do not know how to appreciate my fine sentiment! Are you boys made of different stuff from us, I want to know?" "I rather suppose we are," said George, laughing. "Well, am I right in my explanation?" "Not in the least; some one else must try." "I concluded," said Alice, "that it was the natural kindness of his heart, and his fondness for the little girl, which made him wish to have her for his own child. Of course, he did not realize that he was only a savage, and not fit to bring her up rightly." "That's nearer the truth than the other guess," rejoined Mary. "But none of you have mentioned the great reason why Towandahoc carried her off." "What can it be?" "Simply this--if he had not, what would have become of my story, I'd like to know? I made him take her home with him, on the same principle that novel writers place their heroines in a thousand distressing situations--that they may extricate them from their difficulties, and make a longer tale." "But what's the moral of your story?" said practical, matter-of-fact John. "I don't see much use in a tale, unless there's a regular drawn moral in it, that everybody can discover at once."