MA-MA-TWA AND MO-NA-WING. 



AN INDIAN LEGEND. 



" Call not up 

 Amid thy fresh and virgin solitudes, 

 The faded fancies of an elder world." 



Bryant. 



Mo-na-wing was one of the loveliest of Indian maidens, but 

 she was as timid as a young fawn, and no warrior of the 

 tribe had ever ventured to approach her with the words of 

 love, or dared to interpret the language of her tender eyes. 

 She was yet a child, for she had only counted the blossomings 

 of fifteen springs, and she dwelt in her father's lodge, exempt 

 from toil and as free from care as a forest bird. 



Not far from her home was a green dell, so hidden by sur- 

 rounding rocks and interlacing trees, that it was difficult to 

 discover the narrow pathway which led into its recesses. 

 This spot was the favorite resort of the Manitto of flowers, and 

 therefore it was that its soft green turf was always enamelled 



