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7

Then one morning came a message

the morning's gleam

came in with

How it came is lost or hidden in the shadows of the

dream,

But with it hope went out from her, and she seemed to hark no more

For a voice across the distance, for a footstep at the

door;

And she kneeled there in the wash place, kneeled with 5 sister-girl and me,

And I know now that that moment was her soul's Gethsemane !

8

Then the washings came more often, there were other heaps of clothes;

Day by day the clouds of sudsy steam from the old kettle rose,

Day by day her love grew stronger; in the worry and the smart

Of her heartache she would rush to and would clasp us 10 to her heart;

And she'd strive to coax her lips to curve into a snatch

of song

But the wash place called and called her, and its tasks were hard and long.

9

Not long since I heard a woman say in sneering tones

and low:

"Huh! his mother did our washing, for my mother told me so!"

Whiter than the dogwood blossoms-sweeter than they e'er could be

Shone the truth of that vile whisper, for she did it

all for me,

5 And for sister-girl and baby! Oh, the whisper - it was base!

But a soul was born in heaven from that lowly old wash place.

10

Why, it doesn't seem that mother was quite grown up when she died!

Such a little bit o' mother! Oh, the years are long and wide

Since she went away and left us, with the old smile on

her face,

10 Leaving us but just the mem'ry of the homely old wash

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Her sweet face- but we still miss her, shall as long

as life shall last.

QUESTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

1. Describe how the story was told.

2. Describe the scene. What did the cabin look like? What did the father look like? The little mother? The boy? The sister?

The baby?

3. Describe the old wash place. Why did the speaker remember that best?

4. What became of the father? 5. Why could not the little

6. How did she make a living for her children?

7. What did the woman say of her? What do you think

of what she said? Was it a disgrace for the little girl mother to do washings to support her babies, or was it noble?

8. What became of the little mother?

9. What memory of her clung to her children?

mother wear the dogwood 10.
blossoms in her hair any
more? Why did she not
hear the redbird after her

What line in the last stanza tells of their lasting love for her?

husband was gone?

"The

Judd Mortimer Lewis, the author of the beautiful poem, Old Wash Place," was born in Fulton, New York, September 13, 1867. He has written many beautiful poems and many delightful humorous prose stories. He is connected with the Houston Post, of Houston, Texas, for which he daily contributes poetry and prose humor.

As the dew to the blossom, the bud to the bee,

As the scent to the rose, are those memories to me.
AMELIA B. WELBY

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This beautiful story of "The White Stone Canoe" is a real "Hiawatha story." It is told by Henry R. Schoolcraft in his book called “Hiawatha Legends," from which Longfellow got his material for “Hiawatha." It is an Ojibway or Chippewa legend, and was heard by Schoolcraft from the lips of an old Indian story-teller. Mr. Longfellow must have known this story, for he tells, in "6 Hiawatha's Lamentation," how Chibiabos

"Came unto the Lake of Silver,

In the Stone Canoe was carried

To the Islands of the Blessed,

To the land of ghosts and shadows."

Why he did not use it in "Hiawatha" is not known, for it is as beautiful as any of the other legends that he did use.

The story of "The White Stone Canoe" has been slightly simplified in this book, but the story is given as Schoolcraft heard it from the lips of the aged Ojibway story-teller.

The Chippewa Indians live in Wisconsin and Minnesota. The name "Chippewa " is another form of "Ojibwa," the name usually given in poetry to this tribe of Indians. By pronouncing one of the names after the other, you will see how either one of the names blends with the other.

Now to read this story you must imagine yourself among the Chippewa Indians, long, long ago. Try to imagine the beautiful country of lakes and forests where they lived. Try to picture in

your mind Hiawatha in his grief for his lost sweetheart. Try to imagine his start upon his strange journey to find her. Picture to yourself all that he saw on the journey.

You already know a good deal about Hiawatha from your reading of Mr. Longfellow's poem about him.

The Chippewa Indians believed that, after their death, their spirits would cross a great lake, Gitchee Gumee, in white stone canoes, to the Island of Ponemah, the Land of the Hereafter, and that there, free from hunger and cold, they would live happily ever afterwards. For a long time after the death of a Chippewa Indian, food is placed frequently on the grave to keep him from hunger on his long journey to the Land of the Hereafter.

To start on their journey to the Land of the Hereafter, they had to pass through the wigwam of Chibiabos (chib-Ĭ-ä'bōs), the keeper of the Gate of Death. You will easily see that the "Wigwam of Chibiabos" means death, or the separation of the spirit from the body. If your teacher will read to you the last part of the last tale in "Hiawatha," you will learn how the Indian hero, at death, sailed away in his canoe, over the waters of Gitchee Gumee to the Island of Ponemah.

But in the story of "The White Stone Canoe" there is something more interesting still. As you read the story you will note that, when Hiawatha started out in his white stone canoe, he saw around him many other spirits in similar canoes. The waves rose high before the canoes of the spirits of the men and the women. Some of the canoes were overwhelmed by the waves of Gitchee Gumee, and the spirits that were in them sank to the bottom, while the waves sank down before the canoes of the others. This means, of course, that the good passed through safely, while the bad went down, never to see the Island of Ponemah.

But the most interesting and wonderful part of the tale is this: that before the canoes in which were the spirits of little children there were no waves at all. This means that innocent little children could not commit sins, and so no waves barred their happy passage

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