ELLEN AND HER PET FAWNS--DOCILITY OF FAN--JACK'S DROLL TRICKS--
AFFECTIONATE WOLF--FALL FLOWERS--DEPARTURE OF LADY MARY--THE END.
One day Lady Mary came to seek her nurse in great haste, to describe to
her a fine deer that had been sent as a present to her father by one of
his Canadian friends. She said the great antlers were to be put up over
the library-door.
"Papa called me down to see the poor dead deer, nurse, and I was very
sorry it had been killed; it was such a fine creature. Major Pickford
laughed when I said so, but he promised to get me a live fawn. Nurse, what
is a fawn?"
"It is a young deer, my lady."
"Nurse, please can you tell me anything about fawns? Are they pretty
creatures, and can they be tamed; or are they fierce, wild little things?"
"They are very gentle animals; and if taken young, can be brought up by
sucking the finger like a young calf or a pet lamb. They are playful and
lively, and will follow the person who feeds them like a dog. They are
very pretty, of a pale dun or red colour, with small white spots on the
back like large hailstones; the eyes are large and soft, and black, with a
very meek expression in them; the hoofs are black and sharp: they are
clean and delicate in their habits, and easy and graceful in their
movements."
"Did you ever see a tame fawn?" asked Lady Mary.
"I have seen several, my dear. I will tell you about a fawn that belonged
to a little girl whom I knew many years ago. A hunter had shot a poor doe,
which was very wrong, and contrary to the Indian hunting law; for the
native hunter will not, unless pressed for hunger, kill the deer in the
spring of the year, when the fawns are young. The Indian wanted to find
the little one after he had shot the dam, so he sounded a decoy whistle,
to imitate the call of the doe, and the harmless thing answered it with a
bleat, thinking no doubt it was its mother calling to it. This betrayed
its hiding-place, and it was taken unhurt by the hunter, who took it home,
and gave it to my little friend Ellen to feed and take care of."
"Please, Mrs. Frazer, will you tell me what sort of trees hemlocks are?
Hemlocks in England are poisonous weeds."
"These are not weeds, but large forest trees--a species of pine. I will
show you some the next time we go out for a drive--they are very handsome
trees."
"And what are creeks, nurse."
"Creeks are small streams, such as in Scotland would be termed 'burns,'
and in England rivulets."
"Now, nurse, you may go on about the dear little fawn; I want you to tell
me all you know about it."
"Little Ellen took the poor timid thing, and laid it in an old Indian
basket near the hearth, and put some wool in it, and covered it with an old
cloak to keep it warm; and she tended it very carefully, letting it suck
her fingers dipped in warm milk, as she had seen the dairy-maid do in
weaning young calves. In a few days it began to grow strong and lively, and
would jump out of its basket, and run bleating after its foster-mother: if
it missed her from the room, it would wait at the door watching for her
return.
"When it was older, it used to run on the grass plot in the garden; but
if it heard its little mistress's step or voice in the parlour, it would
bound through the open window to her side; and her call of 'Fan, Fan,
Fan!' would bring it home from the fields near the edge of the forest; but
poor Fan got killed by a careless boy throwing some fire-wood down upon
it, as it lay asleep in the wood-shed. Ellen's grief was very great, but
all she could do was to bury it in the garden near the river-side, and
plant lilac bushes round its little green-sodded grave."
"I am so sorry, nurse, that this good little girl lost her pretty pet."
"Some time after the death of 'Fan,' Ellen had another fawn given to her.
She called this one Jack,--it was older, larger, and stronger, but was
more mischievous and frolicsome than her first pet. It would lie in front
of the fire on the hearth, like a dog, and rub its soft velvet nose
against the hand that patted it very affectionately, but gave a good deal
of trouble in the house: it would eat the carrots, potatoes, and cabbages,
while the cook was preparing them for dinner; and when the housemaid had
laid the cloth for dinner, Jack would go round the table and eat up the
bread she had laid to each plate, to the great delight of the children,
who thought it good fun to see him do so.
"Ellen put a red leather collar about Jack's neck, and some months after
this he swam across the rapid river, and went off to the wild woods, and
was shot by some hunters, a great many miles away from his old home, being
known by his fine red collar. After the sad end of her two favourites,
Ellen would have no more fawns brought in for her to tame."
Lady Mary was much interested in the account of the little girl and her
pets. "Is this all you know about fawns, nurse?"
"I once went to call on a clergyman's wife who lived in a small log-house
near a new village. The youngest child, a fat baby of two years old, was
lying on the rug before a large log-fire, fast asleep; its little head was
pillowed on the back of a tame half-grown fawn that lay stretched on its
side, enjoying the warmth of the fire, as tame and familiar as a spaniel
dog. This fawn had been brought up with the children, and they were very
fond of it, and would share their bread and milk with it at meal times;
but it got into disgrace by gnawing the bark of the young orchard-trees,
and cropping the bushes in the garden; besides, it had a trick of opening
the cupboard, and eating the bread, and drinking any milk it could find;
so the master of the house gave it away to a baker who lived in the
village; but it did not forget its old friends, and used to watch for the
children going to school, and as soon as it caught sight of them, it would
trot after them, poking its nose into the basket to get a share of their
dinner, and very often managed to get it all."
"And what became of this nice fellow, nurse?"
"Unfortunately, my lady, it was chased by some dogs, and ran away to the
woods near the town, and never came back again. Dogs will always hunt tame
fawns when they can get near them, so it seems a pity to domesticate them
only to be killed in so cruel a way. The forest is the best home for these
pretty creatures, though even there they have many enemies beside the
hunter. The bear, the wolf, and the wolverine kill them. Their only means
of defence lies in their fleetness of foot. The stag will defend himself
with his strong horns; but the doe and her little fawn have no such
weapons to guard them when attacked by beasts of prey. The wolf is one of
the greatest enemies they have."
"I hate wolves," said Lady Mary; "wolves can never be tamed, nurse."
"I have heard and read of wolves being tamed and becoming very fond of
their masters. A gentleman in Canada once brought up a wolf puppy, which
became so fond of him that when he left it to go home to England, it
refused to eat, and died of grief at his absence. Kindness will tame even
fierce beasts, who soon learn to love the hand that feeds them. Bears and
foxes have often been kept tame in this country, and eagles and owls; but
I think they cannot be so happy shut up, away from their natural
companions and habits, as if they were free to go and come at their own
will."
"I should not like to be shut up, nurse, far away from my own dear home,"
said the little girl, thoughtfully. "I think, sometimes, I ought not to
keep my dear squirrel in a cage--shall I let him go?"
"My dear, he has now been so used to the cage, and to have all his daily
wants supplied, that I am sure he would suffer from cold and hunger at
this season of the year if he were left to provide for himself, and if he
remained here the cats and weasels might kill him."
"I will keep him safe from harm, then, till the warm weather comes again;
and then, nurse, we will take him to the mountain, and let him go, if he
likes to be free, among the trees and bushes."
It was now the middle of October; the rainy season that usually comes in
the end of September and beginning of October in Canada was over. The soft
hazy season, called Indian summer, was come again; the few forest leaves
that yet lingered were ready to fall--bright and beautiful they still
looked, but Lady Mary missed the flowers.
"I do not love the fall--I see no flowers now, except those in the
greenhouse. The cold, cold winter will soon be here again," she added
sadly.
"Last year, dear lady, you said you loved the white snow, and the
sleighing, and the merry bells, and wished that winter would last all the
year round."
"Ah! yes, nurse; but I did not know how many pretty birds and flowers I
should see in the spring and the summer; and now they are all gone, and I
shall see them no more for a long time."
"There are still a few flowers, Lady Mary, to be found; look at these."
"Ah, dear nurse, where did you get them? How lovely they are!"
"Your little French maid picked them for you, on the side of the
mountain. Rosette loves the wild flowers of her native land."
"Nurse, do you know the names of these pretty starry flowers on this
little branch, that look so light and pretty?"
"These are asters; a word, your governess told me the other day, meaning
starlike; some people call these flowers Michaelmas daisies. These lovely
lilac asters grow in light dry ground; they are among the prettiest of our
fall flowers. These with the small white starry flowers crowded upon the
stalks, with the crimson and gold in the middle, are dwarf asters."
"I like these white ones, nurse; the little branches look so nicely
loaded with blossoms; see, they are quite bowed down with the weight of
all these flowers."
"These small shrubby asters grow on dry gravelly banks of lakes and
rivers."
"But here are some large dark purple ones."
"These are also asters; they are to be found on dry wastes, in stony
barren fields, by the corners of rail-fences; they form large spreading
bushes, and look very lovely, covered with their large dark purple
flowers. There is no waste so wild, my lady, but the hand of the Most High
can plant it with some blossom, and make the waste and desert place
flourish like a garden. Here are others, still brighter and larger, with
yellow disks, and sky-blue flowers; these grow by still waters, near
milldams and swampy places. Though they are larger and gayer, I do not
think they will please you so well as the small ones that I first showed
you; they do not fade so fast, and that is one good quality they have."
"They are more like the china asters in the garden, nurse, only more
upright and stiff; but here is another sweet blue flower--can you tell me
its name?"
"No, my dear, you must ask your governess."
Lady Mary carried the nosegay to Miss Campbell, who told her the blue
flower was called the Fringed Gentian, and that the gentians and asters
bloomed the latest of all the autumn flowers in Canada. Among these wild
flowers, she also showed her the large dark blue bell flowered gentian,
which was indeed the last flower of the year."
"Are there no more flowers in bloom now, nurse?" asked the child, as she
watched Mrs. Frazer arranging them for her in a flower-glass.
"I do not know of any now in bloom but the golden rods and the latest of
the ever-listings. Rosette shall go out, and try to get some of them for
you. The French children make little mats and garlands of them to ornament
their houses, and to hang on the little crosses above the graves of their
friends, because they do not fade away like other flowers."
Next day, Rosette, the little nursery-maid, brought Lady Mary an Indian
basket full of Sweet-scented everlastings. This flower had a fragrant
smell; the leaves were less downy than some of the earlier sorts, but were
covered with a resinous gum, that caused it to stick to the fingers; it
looked quite silky, from the thistledown, which, falling upon the leaves,
were gummed down to the surface.
"The country folks," said Mrs. Frazer, "call this plant Neglected
everlasting, because it grows on dry wastes by road-sides, among thistles
and fireweed; but I love it for its sweetness; it is like a true friend--
it never changes. See, my dear, how shining its straw-coloured blossoms
and buds are, just like satin flowers."
"Nurse, it shall be my own flower," said the little girl, "and I will
make a pretty garland of it, to hang over my own dear mamma's picture.
Rosette says she will show me how to tie the flowers together; she has
made me a pretty wreath for my doll's straw hat, and she means to make her
a mat and a carpet too."
The little maid promised to bring her young lady some wreaths of the
festoon pine; a low-creeping plant, with dry, green chaffy leaves, that
grows in the barren pine woods, of which the Canadians make Christmas
garlands, and also some of the winter berries, and spice berries, which
look so gay in the fall and early spring, with berries of brightest
scarlet, and shining dark green leaves, that trail over the ground on the
gravelly hills and plains.
Nurse Frazer brought Lady Mary some sweetmeats, flavored with an extract
of the spicy winter green, from the confectioner's shop; the Canadians
being very fond of the flavor of this plant. The Indians chew the leaves,
and eat the ripe mealy berries, which have something of the taste of the
bay-laurel leaves. The Indian men smoke the leaves as tobacco.
One day, while Mrs. Frazer was at work in the nursery, her little charge
came to her in a great state of agitation--her cheeks were flushed, and
her eyes were dancing with joy; she threw herself into her arms, and said,
"Oh! dear nurse, I am going home to dear old England and Scotland. Papa
and mamma are going away from Government House, and I am to return to the
old country with them; I am so glad, are not you?"
But the tears gathered in Mrs. Frazer's eyes and fell fast upon the work
she held in her hand. Lady Mary looked surprised, when she saw how her
kind nurse was weeping.
"Nurse, you are to go too; mamma says so; now you need not cry, for you
are not going to leave me."
"I cannot go with you, my dearest child," whispered her weeping
attendant, "much as I love you; for I have a dear son of my own. I have
but him, and it would break my heart to part from him;" and she softly put
aside the bright curls from Lady Mary's fair forehead, and tenderly kissed
her. "This child is all I have in the world to love me, and when his
father, my own kind husband, died, he vowed to take care of me, and
cherish me in my old age, and I promised that I would never leave him; so
I cannot go away from Canada with you, my lady, though I dearly love you."
"Then, Mrs. Frazer, I shall be sorry to leave Canada; for when I go home,
I shall have no one to talk to me about beavers, and squirrels, and
Indians, and flowers, and birds."
"Indeed, my lady, you will not want for amusement there, for England and
Scotland are finer places than Canada. Your good governess and your new
nurse will be able to tell you many things that will delight you; and you
will not quite forget your poor old nurse, I am sure, when you think about
the time you have spent in this country."
"Ah, dear good old nurse, I will not forget you," said Lady Mary,
springing into her nurse's lap, and fondly caressing her, while big bright
tears fell from her eyes.
There was so much to do, and so much to think about before the Governor's
departure, that Lady Mary had no time to hear any more stories, nor to ask
any more questions about the natural history of Canada; though, doubtless,
there were many other curious things that Mrs. Frazer could have related;
for she was a person of good education, who had seen and noticed as well
as read a great deal. She had not always been a poor woman, but had once
been a respectable farmer's wife, though her husband's death had reduced
her to a state of servitude; and she had earned money enough while in the
Governor's service to educate her son, and this was how she came to be
Lady Mary's nurse.
Lady Mary did not forget to have all her Indian curiosities packed up
with some dried plants and flower seeds, collected by her governess; but
she left the cage, with her flying squirrel, to Mrs. Frazer, to take care
of till the following spring, when she told her to take it to the
mountain, or St. Helen's Island, and let it go free, that it might be a
happy squirrel once more, and bound away among the green trees in the
Canadian woods.
When Mrs. Frazer was called in to take leave of the Governor and his
lady, after receiving a handsome salary for her care and attendance on
their little daughter, the Governor gave her a sealed parchment, which,
when she opened, was found to contain a Government deed for a fine lot of
land, in a fertile township in Upper Canada.
It was with many tears and blessings that Mrs. Frazer took leave of the
good Governor's family; and, above all, of her beloved charge, Lady Mary.
THE END.