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are driven from their pleasant homes far beyond the 
great river that pours down from the lakes of the 
north. I know how they loved the hunting-grounds 
and the graves of their fathers,—and why are they 
driven away ? A chieftain of my country gave me 
to Washington, when he talked with him in the 
great council of his tribe. That good falher of his 
red and white children told them, that their lands 
should never be taken from them. Where is he 
gone ? Why does he not come back to take care 
of his oppressed children ? They loved him, and 
they wished to live in peace with their white breth¬ 
ren, and were grateful to them for the useful arts 
they had taught them, and for the knowledge they 
had imparted to them. I have often heard them 
speak of the Being that made them and wished them 
to be good and happy. It was not the Sun, but a 
Heavenly Father, the white men said, who was 
