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"I mean a real fairy," says Dorothy, shaking her head "If she were to come now this moment and say, 'Dorothy'——" "We," said the Raven chief, "are those who carry the raven (Măs-to-pāh´-tă-kīks). Of all the fliers, of all the birds, what one is so smart as the raven? None. The raven's eyes are sharp, his wings are strong. He is a great hunter and never hungry. Far off on the prairie he sees his food, or if it is deep hidden in the forest it does not escape him. This is our song and our dance." Mona hesitates, then says, shyly, with downcast eyes,—.

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The woman went on and got the water, and when she came back she took the stone and gave it to her husband, telling him about the song and what the stone had said. "I am content to stay here until the day dawns, if you keep me company," replies he, easily. A terrace runs all along one side of the house, which is exposed to view from the avenue. And here, with a gaunt but handsome greyhound beside her, stands a girl tall and slim, yet beautifully moulded. Her eyes are gray, yet might at certain moments be termed blue. Her mouth is large, but not unpleasing. Her hair is quite dark, and drawn back into a loose and artistic coil behind. She is clad in an impossible gown of sage green, that clings closely to her slight figure, nay, almost desperately, as though afraid to lose her. "Have they taught you to hate me already?" he asks, in a low, compressed tone, that make her nerves assert themselves..