The white mother heard the whisper, but the words were in Dakota, so she
failed to understand. She saw Cordelia Running Bird shrink and color
and her face grow very grave. Seeing this the class ceased whispering,
but the white mother's faithful teachings went unheeded, and she saw the
lesson was a failure. In fact, the whole room was in sad disorder from
the opening to the close of Sunday-school, and all three teachers were
perplexed and disappointed by the strange behavior of their usually
attentive pupils.
"How unfortunate that the race mood has attacked the school when
Christmas is approaching, and we wish the girls to do their best and be
their happiest," said the white mother, lingering; for a minute in the
schoolroom after the dismissal. "Cordelia seems about the only one,
except the little girls, who isn't out of sorts to-day, yet she is the
one they are all against. The older girls all seem displeased at her."
"The large girls worried me with loud and constant whispering and
inattention to the lesson," was the school-teacher's sorrowful report.
"There were so many, with the superintendent's class combined with mine,
I found it quite impossible to keep good order, as you probably
observed."
The superintendent was not present.
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