When Lois and Harold Robbins first learned that they were not going to the seashore this summer they felt very much disappointed.

Lois was ten years old and Hal was eight. They thought there was no fun so nice as wading in the salt water and letting the foam break over their legs. Of course it was better still to have Daddy put the water-wings on them and let them float, and give them swimming lessons. They had not quite learned to swim alone yet without the water-wings, and this was to be the summer when they would surely do it.

When their father saw their disappointment he tried to cheer them up.

“Don’t you know that Lake Michigan looks as big as the ocean?” he asked.

“It isn’t salt,” said Lois.

“Has it any starfish and crabs in it?” asked Hal.

“No,” returned Mr. Robbins, “but children can swim in it and wade on the sandy shore, and then there are sweet-smelling pine woods to play in, and your mother wants to smell those pines. Don’t you think you would like to see a little more of the world, instead of going to the same place every summer?”

Lois shook her head very decidedly. “No,” she replied, “for I know we shall never have such a good time as we do at the seashore.”

Her father smiled. “It is never a wise plan to make up your mind not to have a good time,” he said. “That is like turning a bowl upside down. Nothing can run into it, so it stays empty. Keep your bowls right side up, both of you, and you can’t tell what jolly things may run into them. Hal, you remember those pictures of Indians we were looking at last night?”

Hal at once became interested. He always wanted to hear all he could about Indians.

“Well, don’t you think it will be pleasant to see that country where the Indians roamed, and led their wild, free life long after they were gone from New England?”

“What do you mean by holding our bowls right side up?” asked the little boy.

“If you are hopeful and cheerful and loving every morning and all day,” replied his father, “you are holding your bowl right side up.”

“Do you think if I do that in Michigan an Indian might fall into it?”

His father laughed. “I think the Indians have cleared out from there; but you will see the trails they used through the woods, the places where their tents stood, the water where their canoes moved so silently, the shores where their moccasins trod so swiftly, and breathe the clear, fine air through which their wild whoops rang as they danced around the camp fire, while the smoke curled up above the tall trees.”

“I say we go, Lois,” said Hal, his eyes shining.

“If the Indians were there now,” said his sister, “I think you would run in the other direction.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” returned Hal confidently. “I’d put on one of those great big war bonnets and tell them I wanted to be a brave and live with them, and I think they’d let me; but I don’t think they’d take you, Lois, for they like braves a great deal better than they do squaws.”

“I wouldn’t be a squaw,” returned Lois. “I would be an Indian princess and wear a wonderful red mantle with purple stripes and have chains about my neck, and my hair braided and shining, and beautiful bracelets, and they would all bow down to me—and you’d have to, too.”

“No, the chief would take me for his son and I should have a wonderful bow, the longest in the tribe, and shoot my arrows so straight that the other Indians would all say ‘Ugh! ugh!’ That’s what they say when they like anything, isn’t it, Daddy?”

“I think it is,” returned Mr. Robbins, and Harold ran to get the Indian book to show his sister how he would look shooting arrows before an admiring tribe, because he had found that picture last night, and it had pleased him very much indeed. He found the picture of a princess for Lois and she liked the looks of the straight-nosed beauty, because her own nose turned up a little, and she thought it would be fine to have such a handsome nose and hold her head so proudly. It was almost impossible to hold one’s head proudly if one had a turn-up nose.

Her father patted her shoulder as he passed her to leave the room.

“That’s right,” he said. “Have a good time being a princess this summer, instead of a mermaid. I’ll get you a tent if you want it.”