To-morrer our faces will turn south an' shine with bear's grease.' "Sez I: 'You must wash no more in the same water with the French.

You must return to The Long House.

The Big Father will throw his great arm eround you.' "I strutted up an' down, like a turkey gobbler, an' bellered out a lot o' that high-falutin' gab.

I reckon I know how to shove an idee under their hides.

Ye got to raise yer voice an' look solemn an' point at the stars.