And now, little girls, I am going to tell you of the life and history of a young roe-deer. It is quite a true story, as I have very good reason to know.

When Fanny Grey was about seven years old, one day her father opened the door of the room where she sat, and said, “Come here, Fanny, and look at the beautiful present I have brought you.”

So she got up in great haste, and followed her papa to the lawn, and there, in a nice square box, was a young roe.

“It is for you, my child, as a reward for your attention to your studies.”

I wish you could have seen Fanny’s joy. She danced about, and clapped her hands, and ran to the dairy to get some milk for the little stranger. When she had taken it out of the box, she could see it much better: she could see the white spots that make the coat of roe-deer, when they are very young. She could see its pretty little graceful feet, and its soft, black eyes; and Fanny was so happy, that she said she should like it better than any of her pets. She had birds, and dogs, and a beautiful grey horse, but this dear little roe was better than all. She gave it the name of Camgno; and by this name it would come whenever she called.—She made a velvet cushion for it to sleep upon, and every day she thought it grew more pretty. After some time Camgno became quite strong, and Fanny had a silver collar made for it; and the gamekeeper made a “nice little house” for her favourite, where it could sleep every night. Camgno would always come when Fanny called, and they loved each other very much. But Camgno was taken sick, and it was necessary to carry him to the pheasant-house, where the gamekeeper could take care of him; for Fanny was not old enough to take all the care of her little pet, when he was so sick, and so she consented to its being removed.

One day her father came home and told her a sad tale, that Camgno could not live. Oh! how sorry she was!—the tears came into her eyes, and she ran away, as fast as she could, to see her poor roe. When she came to the pheasant-house, Camgno was lying on the ground, and looked quite dead.

“Oh, my poor Camgno!” she cried.

Camgno opened its black eyes at the sound of her voice; and Fanny sat down by the roe, and raised its little head, and laid it upon her knee.—She staid a long time beside her dear little pet, till her father said he was afraid she would catch cold, and she must now go home.

The next morning she got up very early, and went to the gamekeeper; but just before she reached the house, she met James, who said, “It is of no use; Camgno is dead; but if I live till another spring, I will get you another roe.”

“Thank you James,” said Fanny; “but I shall never want another roe; it might die too; and it makes me very sorry: but I will thank you to dig a grave for my pet, and help me to bury it.”

So Fanny covered the grave with flowers, and resolved that she would try and not love anything so much again that could be taken away from her; but she was always kind to all animals, and every living thing,—and, after this, she was led to think of and love such things as could not be taken away from her: and that made her truly happy.

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