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The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine

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The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine.jpg MarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sitMarriageMiniaturesAs we two girls sat on the floor, with ankles to the right, as Indian women always sit
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For nigh a week my father and my two mothers were busy getting ready the feast foods for the wedding. On the morning of the sixth day, my father took from his bag a fine weasel-skin cap and an eagle-feather war bonnet. The first he put on my head; the second he handed to my sister, Cold Medicine. “Take these to Hanging Stone’s lodge,” he said.

Auteur
Waheenee--An Indian Girl's Story
By Waheenee
as told to Gilbert Livingstone Wilson
Illustrator: Frederick N. Wilson
Published in 1921
Available from gutenberg.org
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690*1011
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