"None whatever; most of the tribes have been removed to the far west; all but one, I think, and that will probably be taken soon." "What tribe is it? the Wottapottamies?" "Pottawottamies; yes." "Father, will we have to live in wigwams and dress in skins?" asked Ada, anxiously. "No; we'll have a house; if it is only a log-cabin, and we'll carry plenty of clothes along." "P'raps dey might det losted on the way," suggested Fan. "Well, pussy, I think we'll find some stores out there; and if everything else fails we can always fall back on deerskins." Lansdale was but a small town; everybody in it knew the Keiths or knew of them, and by the next day after their removal had been decided upon, everybody knew that. Many regrets were expressed and there were some offers of assistance with their preparations; but these were declined with thanks: "with Aunt Wealthy's good help, and that of the seamstress already engaged," Mrs. Keith said "she and Mildred would be able to do all that was necessary." They were very busy cutting, fitting and sewing, day after day, from morning to night with occasional interruptions from the little ones who were too young to go to school but old enough to roam over house and grounds; and being adventurous spirits, full of life and energy, were constantly getting into mischief, thus furnishing, gratis, a change of works to mother and eldest sister, who, spite of a hearty affection for the young rogues, was often sorely tried by their pranks. "Have you any cord, Mrs. Keith?" asked the seamstress, one morning. "Yes," turning to her work-basket. "Why, what has become of it? I had two or three pieces here. And that paper of needles has disappeared! Mildred did you--" "The children were here half an hour ago, mother, and I remember seeing Donald peeping into your basket." "Run out and see what they have done with them." Going into the hall, Mildred stood a moment listening for some sound to tell her where the children were. Little voices were prattling in the garden near at hand. Stepping to the door she saw the two boys seated on the grass busied with a kite Rupert had made for them. "What are you doing?" she asked, going nearer. "Makin' a longer tail." "Where did you get that piece of string?" No answer; only a guilty look on the two chubby faces. "Oh, I know! it's some cord you took from mother's work-basket. And now it's wanted; but you've spoilt it entirely; why did you cut and knot it so?" "Why," said Cyril, "you see Don was my crazy man and I had to tie him; and then I had to cut the string to get it off, 'cause I couldn't untie the knots." "Oh, you mischievous fellows. Another time don't you take things without leave. Did you take a paper of needles too?" "No, we didn't; maybe Fan did." Mildred went in search of Fan, and found her digging and planting in her little garden, the empty needle paper lying near. "Fan," said Mildred, picking it up, "What have you done with the needles that were in this?"