In the north they called her Manitou, in the south, Pabothkew. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. The imbecile. It was a society column about the richest men in the world and their lavish parties. It may be well, therefore, before proceeding farther, to describe it more minutely. This she would not endure.
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