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The stories about this Old Man are told by the Blackfeet for entertainment rather than with any serious purpose, and when that part of the story is reached where Old Man is in some difficulty which he cannot get out of, the man who is telling the story, and those who are listening to it, laugh delightedly. "Where are you going—far from the camp?" asked the old woman. "Are you a man, to make me such a speech?" she says, passionately, fixing her eyes upon him with withering contempt..

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"Yes, of course," she says, dejectedly. A cloud seems to have fallen upon her happy hour. "When did you hear that—that last singer?" she asks, in a subdued voice. "I sha'n't want any trifles to amuse me, if you will talk to me," says Mona. "It is, in fact, the real and original 'old, old story," says Geoffrey, innocently, smiling mildly at the leg of a distant table. "That night at Chetwoode you made use of some words that I have never forgotten since.".