Looking from the window near her bed, Cordelia saw the broad, yellowplains illumined with brilliant sunshine and the girls exercising on theglittering crust of snow occasioned by the thaw. The little girls weresliding down hill on boards and broken shovels, cast-off dripping-pansand ash-pans--everything, indeed, that could be seized on for coasting.A group of large and middle-sized girls were walking over the missionpasture, stretching for a mile on every side. Another band of girls waspacked into a long, wide bob-sled on the point of starting with theyellow mother to the little log post office down the river.

"Very lots of fun, and I am being punished here in bed!" Cordelia saidto herself, mournfully. "Now the bob-sled starts, and somewhat loud thesleigh-bells ring. The yellow mother drives, and she must hold the linesso tight, for somewhat quick the horses want to go. We go to the post officeby the al-pha-bet on Saturday, and this day it is the P's and R's--thereare no Q's--so it is my turn. Very quick I meant to feather-stitch, so Icould spare the time to go. Ee! There is Jane Straight Tree in myplace. She made me talk Dakota and get punished. Now she gets mysleigh-ride!" And Cordelia Running Bird threw herself back upon thepillow, giving vent to ferocious, resentful tears.