head all day and my dreams at night when I return to the boardinghouse. As I said I had been working in my little secret studio in the music hall, making some masks and little puppets from the parts
of
that
piano
that
had
fallen
offstage. When I went back near the Indian village, I saw all kinds of things that open my eyes wide. The costumes of the Braves
and
some
of
the
squaws
seemed
vaguely familiar and at same time like nothing I had ever seen. I only got close by accident one day. I was leaning up against a fence they had put up (I can't remember if it was to keep the Indians out of the Fair, or to keep us out of the Wild West) but leaning against to take a look I knocked over a section of fence and fell into the mud near the back of
the
tent.
The
Indians
laughed
and
laughed. I began to run but one grabbed me by the leg. I was terrified and thought I was about to be killed, but the brave had seen that I had cut my leg and through some sign language showed me that he only meant to help.
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