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She dropped the deadly weapon And leaped from the canoe. Says she, " I beg your pardon; I thought you was a Sioux. Your long hair and your buckskin Looked warrior-like and rough.; My bead was spoiled by sunshine, Or I'd have killed you sure enough."
" Perhaps it would've been better If you'd dropped me then," says I; " For surely such an angel Would bear me to the sky." She blushingly dropped her eyelids, Her cheeks were crimson red; One half-shy glance she gave me And then hung down her head.
I took her little hand in mine; She wondered what it meant, And yet she drew it not away, But rather seemed content. We sat upon the mossy bank, Her eyes began to fill; The brook was rippling at our feet, The dove was cooing still.
'Tis strong arms were thrown around her. " I'll save you or I'll die." I clasped her to my bosom, 143