Redraft 



had drummed and rolled his loud tattoo again 

 and again, till a small boy who had taken a short 

 cut to the mill through the woods, ran home, 

 badly scared, to tell his mother he was sure the 

 Indians were on the war-path, for he heard their 

 war-drums beating in the glen. 



Why does a happy boy holla? Why does 

 a lonesome youth sigh? They don't know 

 any more than RedrufT knew why every day 

 now he mounted some dead log and thumped 

 and thundered to the woods ; then strutted and 

 admired his gorgeous blazing ruffs as they 

 flashed their jewels in the sunlight, and then 

 thundered out again. Whence now came the 

 strange wish for someone else to admire the 

 plumes? And why had such a notion never 

 come till the Pussywillow Moon ? 



' Thump, thump, thunder-r-r-r-r-r-rrrr* 

 ' Thump, thump, thunder-r-r-r-r-r-rrrr ' 

 he rumbled again and again. 



Day after day he sought the favorite log, and 

 a new beauty, a rose-red comb, grew out above 

 each clear, keen eye, and the clumsy snow- 

 shoes were wholly shed from his feet. His ruff 

 grew finer, his eye brighter, and his whole ap- 



334 



