A Calf Named Brian Higgins
150
Wilkister giggled. “I show you later.”
From a small wooden cabinet in her room, Wilkister
got out a tin bucket of beads and the bag of beads Hannah
had given her. She took out string and two clasps. “I put
together clasp for you,” she said as she tied the clasp to
the strings and pulled it tight. “Now I clasp for me.” She
did the same thing over again. “Then we start bead like
this.” She chose several beads and weaved them through
the strings intricately, creating a beautiful pattern.
“Whoa,” Hannah said. “Hang on. How did you do
that?”
“I show you again.” Wilkister took more beads out of
the bucket and wove them through the strings, repeating
the pattern perfectly.
“Ugh,” Hannah sighed. “I know how to put beads on a
string, but not like this. And these beads are so pretty, but
so small.” She watched Wilkister over and over again, and
then tried it herself. She messed up, loosened the beads
from the string and tried again. She squinted in the dim
light. Wilkister got up and returned with the gas lamp.
Looking at the necklace under the light, Hannah noticed
her beads were a little mismatched.
“How long does it take you to finish one?”
Wilkister thought for a moment. “About half a day,
but sometime less time.”
“Wow,” Hannah said. She reached up to her neck and
touched the beads on the necklace Wilkister had made for
