Lucy: Ever hear the Indian name for that little grove of beech trees?
Eugene: No, and you never did either. Well?
Lucy: The name was Loma-Nashah. It means: 'They-couldn't-help-it.'
Eugene: Doesn't sound like it.
Lucy: Indian names don't. There was a bad Indian chief, the worst Indian that ever lived, and his name was...it was Vendonah. Means: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene: What?
Lucy: His name was Vendonah, same thing as: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene: I see. [She laughs] Go on.
Lucy: Vendonah was unspeakable. He was so proud he wore iron shoes and walked over people's faces. So at last, the tribe decided that it wasn't a good enough excuse for him that he was young and inexperienced. He'd have to go. So they took him down to the river, put him in a canoe, and pushed him out from shore. The current carried him on down to the ocean. And he never got back. They didn't want him back, of course. They hated Vendonah, but they weren't able to discover any other warrior they wanted to make chief in his place. They couldn't help feeling that way.
Eugene: I see. So that's why they named the place: 'They-couldn't help-it.'
Lucy: Must have been.
Eugene: So you're going to stay in your garden. You think it's better just to keep walking about among your flower beds and get old like a pensive garden lady in a Victorian engraving? Huh?
Lucy: I suppose I'm like that tribe that lived here, Papa. I had too much unpleasant excitement. I don't want any more. In fact, I don't want anything but you.
Eugene: You don't? What was the name of that grove?
Lucy: 'They-could...'
Eugene: No, the Indian name, I mean.
Lucy: Oh. Mola-Haha. [They laugh together]
Eugene: Mola-Haha. That wasn't the name you said.
Lucy: Oh, I've forgotten.
Eugene: So you have. Perhaps you remember the chief's name better?
Lucy: I don't.
Eugene: I hope some day you can forget it.
Eugene: No, and you never did either. Well?
Lucy: The name was Loma-Nashah. It means: 'They-couldn't-help-it.'
Eugene: Doesn't sound like it.
Lucy: Indian names don't. There was a bad Indian chief, the worst Indian that ever lived, and his name was...it was Vendonah. Means: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene: What?
Lucy: His name was Vendonah, same thing as: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene: I see. [She laughs] Go on.
Lucy: Vendonah was unspeakable. He was so proud he wore iron shoes and walked over people's faces. So at last, the tribe decided that it wasn't a good enough excuse for him that he was young and inexperienced. He'd have to go. So they took him down to the river, put him in a canoe, and pushed him out from shore. The current carried him on down to the ocean. And he never got back. They didn't want him back, of course. They hated Vendonah, but they weren't able to discover any other warrior they wanted to make chief in his place. They couldn't help feeling that way.
Eugene: I see. So that's why they named the place: 'They-couldn't help-it.'
Lucy: Must have been.
Eugene: So you're going to stay in your garden. You think it's better just to keep walking about among your flower beds and get old like a pensive garden lady in a Victorian engraving? Huh?
Lucy: I suppose I'm like that tribe that lived here, Papa. I had too much unpleasant excitement. I don't want any more. In fact, I don't want anything but you.
Eugene: You don't? What was the name of that grove?
Lucy: 'They-could...'
Eugene: No, the Indian name, I mean.
Lucy: Oh. Mola-Haha. [They laugh together]
Eugene: Mola-Haha. That wasn't the name you said.
Lucy: Oh, I've forgotten.
Eugene: So you have. Perhaps you remember the chief's name better?
Lucy: I don't.
Eugene: I hope some day you can forget it.
Lucy : Ever hear the Indian name for that little grove of beech trees?
Eugene : No, and you never did either. Well?
Lucy : The name was Loma-Nashah. It means: 'They-couldn't-help-it.'
Eugene : Doesn't sound like it.
Lucy : Indian names don't. There was a bad Indian chief, the worst Indian that ever lived, and his name was...it was Vendonah. Means: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene : What?
Lucy : His name was Vendonah, same thing as: 'Rides-Down-Everything.'
Eugene : I see. [She laughs] Go on.
Lucy : Vendonah was unspeakable. He was so proud he wore iron shoes and walked over people's faces. So at last, the tribe decided that it wasn't a good enough excuse for him that he was young and inexperienced. He'd have to go. So they took him down to the river, put him in a canoe, and pushed him out from shore. The current carried him on down to the ocean. And he never got back. They didn't want him back, of course. They hated Vendonah, but they weren't able to discover any other warrior they wanted to make chief in his place. They couldn't help feeling that way.
Eugene : I see. So that's why they named the place: 'They-couldn't help-it.'
Lucy : Must have been.
Eugene : So you're going to stay in your garden. You think it's better just to keep walking about among your flower beds and get old like a pensive garden lady in a Victorian engraving? Huh?
Lucy : I suppose I'm like that tribe that lived here, Papa. I had too much unpleasant excitement. I don't want any more. In fact, I don't want anything but you.
Eugene : You don't? What was the name of that grove?
Lucy : 'They-could...'
Eugene : No, the Indian name, I mean.
Lucy : Oh. Mola-Haha. [They laugh together]
Eugene : Mola-Haha. That wasn't the name you said.
Lucy : Oh, I've forgotten.
Eugene : So you have. Perhaps you remember the chief's name better?
Lucy : I don't.
Eugene : I hope some day you can forget it.
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