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Father to the Indians too. Will that good God be 
pleased to have his children quarrel with one an¬ 
other ?” 
At these words the eloquent Rose fell, scattered 
to the ground. Her own earnestness had snapped 
the delicate chords of life—but the tree bore many- 
other buds that would open, to echo the sorrow of 
their heart-broken sister. 
