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

rod or more every time.
Our dog Landy, also, was on hand for the fun; and it was a laughable
sight to see the great awkward fellow straining every nerve to overtake
the little streak of animated lightning that flashed before him. Landy
was a Newfoundland shepherd, and I knew that nothing could induce
him to hurt the fawn 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.