The Nursery, No. 106, October, 1875. Vol. XVIII. | Page 3

if he should catch him.
While I was watching the sport, and laughing at the drollery of it, all at once I heard a stamping on the other side of the wagon, and, stepping quickly around the horses' heads, I saw the old doe, and a buck and doe with her.
[Illustration]
As the fawn came bounding along the circle, the buck and does, bleating anxiously, darted in ahead of him, rushing right by the men and dog. Never stopping an instant, the big buck led the way, the does and fawn followed; and, before you could say "Jack Robinson," they were "over the hills, and far away."
This was the antelope that we almost caught. The boys came back to the wagons, thoroughly fagged out, and looking painfully silly.
Again we drove along, but had not proceeded more than a mile or two, when up sprung another old doe, and ran toward Landy, stamping her fore-foot fiercely. Of course the foolish dog took after her as hard as he could go,--just as she wanted him to do; and a fine chase she led him, always taking care not to leave him so far behind as to discourage him, and make him turn back.
We knew at once by her actions that she had a fawn near there; and so, while she was leading Landy away from it, we set about hunting it up. In a few minutes, I came across the little slender-legged beauty, snugly curled up under a tuft of grass. As I came upon him, he dashed out of cover with a shrill, plaintive little "baa-baa, baa-baa," and, as fawns always do in such cases, began running in a small circle.
Landy, disgusted with his hopeless chase, came trotting back, and at once struck in after the fawn. This one was not so fleet as the other; and by and by Landy overtook him, and tried to stop him by pushing him over with his nose. This frightened the fawn so badly, that he made direct for Tip, who was squatting in the long grass in wait for him, and rushed joyfully into his arms.
We took the bright-eyed little thing into the wagon, and by night he was so tame, that he would follow us around; and, when we lay down to sleep on the ground, I gave him a corner of my blanket for a bed. At last we got back to Thompson's log-house, which stood near the timber; and, when we went away we gave the fawn to his two little girls. I would really like to know what ever became of it.
PERRY, O. LLOYD WYMAN.
[Illustration]

[Illustration]
The Apple Tree.
Up in the apple-tree See the rosy cheeks; See the balls that look like gold; See the crimson streaks. In the lovely autumn day, Bright as in the bloom of May, Filled with fruit, and fair to see, Is the apple-tree.
Under the apple-tree See the rosy cheeks: Little Ginx, the baby, What is it he seeks? Ah! his tiny teeth are white, And are eager for a bite,-- Such a tempting store to see Is the apple-tree.
Under the apple-tree, Other rosy cheeks,-- Edith, Mabel, Gold-Locks, Full of happy freaks. Here they run, and there they run, Shouting merrily, if one Fallen in the grass they see From the apple-tree.
CLARA DOTY BATES.

A COUNCIL OF HORSES.
On the large plains of South America, horses run wild in great numbers. They are caught by means of a lasso, which is a rope with a noose at one end. This is thrown with great dexterity over the neck of the wild horse.
The artist has called the picture which we here present "A Council of Horses." Do they not look as if they were taking advice of one another? The white horse, with his erect neck and head, seems to be the leader, or chief. He is willing to hear what the others may have to say; but he means that they shall follow him, after all.
And can horses really make known their wishes to one another? It would almost seem so, though we cannot prove it. Wild horses choose their own chiefs, and these give the signal of departure. If any extraordinary object appears, the chief commands a halt. He goes to discover what it is, and, after his return, gives, by neighing, the signal of confidence, of flight, or of combat.
Five sorts of neighing may be noticed: that of joyfulness, of desire, of anger, of fear, and of sorrow. A feeling peculiar to the horse is emulation. Whoever has witnessed a horse-race can understand the ardor, vehemence, and struggle for victory, which excite the energies of both horses and men. The animals have often tried to hold their rivals back by the teeth. This has been known to happen when the horses are left entirely to themselves, as on