46 AN ESKIMO VILLAGE 



is the proper Eskimo greeting for all times of day ; 

 and now that the preliminaries were over, I ex- 

 pected Ruth to sit down and get to business. So 

 many of the people had come with baskets to sell, 

 or with skin purses and gloves and queer wall- 

 pockets all decorated with bead work, and native 

 dolls and little models of sledges, and all manner 

 of things to ' ' truckey ' ' (trade) for stockings or 

 skirts or anything wearable, that I fully expected 

 Ruth to produce something of the same sort. And, 

 true enough, Ruth was fishing in her hood, as 

 though some saleable trifle were nestling in its 

 depths ; but the catch that she made was a surprise 

 to me, for after a good deal of hunching of 

 shoulders, and screwing around, and stretching of 

 arms to fish a little deeper, she brought out a well- 

 thumbed Eskimo hymn-book. 



She rearranged her hood before going any 

 further, putting her book carefully on the bench 

 meanwhile ; then she opened the pages with much 

 deliberation and produced a scrap of paper. This 

 she handed to me with an air of great consequence, 

 and straightway walked out of the room without a 

 word. 



" The plot thickens," thought I ; " this is some- 

 thing strange." I could not help smiling at the little 

 play ; old Ruth was so serious about it all, and so 

 evidently in earnest, that I wondered what it could 

 all mean. The quaint little figure moved slowly 

 and with the utmost dignity out of the doorway, 

 and I, standing bewildered at the table, unfolded 

 the scrap of paper and read : ' ' Ruth wants to sing 



