The child leaned her ringletted head against her mother's sleeve, gazing on the picture, and murmured as if fascinated: --The beautiful Mabel Hunter! As if fascinated, her eyes rested long upon those demurely taunting eyes and she murmured devotedly: --Isn't she an exquisite creature? And the boy who came in from the street, stamping crookedly under his stone of coal, heard her words. With the Indian tribes it is our duty to cultivate friendly relations and to act with kindness and liberality in all our transactions. What need they torture their heads with that which others have taken so strictly and so unalterably into their own purveying? These are the fruits which a dull ease and cessation of our knowledge will bring forth among the people. It is our peculiar felicity to be altogether unconnected with the causes which produce this menacing aspect elsewhere.
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