"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 gra.s.s 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 besides 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 themselves 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 star-like. 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 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, and 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 mill-dams 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 in deed 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 gla.s.s.
"I do not know of any now in bloom but the Golden Rods and the latest of the Everlastings. 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 thistle down, which, falling upon the leaves, was 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 fire-weed; 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, flavoured with an extract of the spicy winter-green, from the confectioner"s shop; the Canadians being very fond of the flavour 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 flashed, 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 ma."
"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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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.