hughie had always wanted to be an indian. one day he told his mamma about it.

"well," she said, "why not be an indian?"

hughie looked down at his little blue suit and his low shoes. "i can't be an indian," he said. "i haven't any bow and arrow 'r—'r anything indians have. and anyway, little boys can't be indians."

"oh, yes, they can," said his mamma. "indians are strong and brave. any little boy can be that. how do you do, chief hughie?" she added, with a low bow.

hughie drew himself up until he was at least an inch taller. "heap—heap strong and brave, thank you," he said gravely.

that very day hughie's mamma bought him a bow and arrow. then hughie felt himself a real indian indeed.

but chief hughie grew tired of shooting at a mark with his new bow and arrow.

it would be much more fun, he thought, to shoot at something that moved.

just as he thought that, a bird flew up from the snowball bush. chief hughie hastily slipped an arrow into his bow. bing! it went, toward the bird.

"hughie!"

hughie turned around. "chief hughie," he corrected, politely.

"no," said his mamma, "not chief hughie. squaw hughie! chiefs are strong and brave. chief hughie would never shoot at a dear little bird. only a cowardly indian, a squaw indian, would do that."

she came down the path and took away hughie's bow and arrow.

"squaws don't carry weapons," she said.

hughie threw himself down on his stomach and screamed with anger.

"squaws cry," said his mamma.

she walked back to the house, leaving hughie sitting on the grass. he was wondering how long it would take for a squaw to become a chief once more.