Her Indian name was significant of her position as leader of a certain dance performed by women alone. It was very honorable, and constituted her a sort of “chief” woman. Both mother and daughter strongly sympathized with Red Jacket in his opposition to the introduction of the religion of the pale faces, until, having been induced to listen for once to the preaching of the missionaries, they perceived its superiority to their faith and desired to know more of the wonderful salvation which the Son of God had wrought out for all men—Indians as well as white men. They went again, but this coming to the ears of the old chief, he positively forbade them, threatening that if they disobeyed he would leave his family at once. The mother was very much alarmed, and for a time she ceased her visits to the mission house. But after a time she and her daughter took their blankets out into the woods one Saturday evening and hid them. The next morning they walked away from the house slowly, as if going out to the woods, and when they came to the blankets they threw them hastily over their heads, and by a circuitous path made their way to the meeting. There they heard the words, “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotton Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” This brought them to decide, once for all, to take the Gospel and risk the loss of all things. This was a great step; Red Jacket would do what he had said: he would leave the family; this they knew. He was a very distinguished man; as his wife and daughter they had been much noticed and had received many presents, but they would renounce all for Christ and everlasting life. They joined the mission church, were very earnest Christian women, they remained faithful unto death, and exerted a powerful influence in bringing others to Christ. A year or two after Red Jacket returned to his wife, and acknowledged that he had done wrong in leaving, adding that he did not think that she was any the worse for being a Christian. Dear Pansies, this thought came to me as I heard the story of these Indian women: they heard the truth once and were interested, twice and accepted. How many times have you heard it? Have you accepted Christ? FAYE HUNTINGTON. THE PERSECUTED BANNERMAN. [In one of the missionary magazines I read this note: “There is one story in the foreign missionary department of this number which none of our young readers should overlook.... It is a first-rate story to read and talk about in the family.” Turning over the pages I found, as I had expected, that the editor’s suggestion was a good one, and then I immediately became desirous that all you young people of the Pansy should have a chance at the story, and here it is, clipped for your benefit.—FAYE HUNTINGTON.]