

WOODMYTH & FABLE 



is your wigwam." The little voice en- 

 tered and took possession, but Ninna- 

 bo-jou had breathed the spark of life into 

 it. The smoke- vent wings began to move 

 and to flap, and the little wigwam turned 

 into a beautiful Bluebird with a red sun 

 on its breast and a shirt of white. Away 

 it flew, but every Spring it comes, the 

 Bluebird of the Spring. The voice still 

 dwells in it, and we feel that it has lost 

 nothing of its earliest power when we hear 

 it cry: "Awake; the Spring is coming! 



^;^' 





