3. The dog, as it approached the spot where the fawn lay, suddenly stopped. The little animal saw him, and started to its feet. It had lived more than half its life among the dogs of the village, and had apparently lost all fear of them; but it seemed now to know that an enemy was near.

In an instant, its whole nature seemed changed; all its past habits were forgotten; every wild impulse was awake; its head erect, its nostrils dilated, its eyes flashing.

4. In another instant, before the spectators had thought of the danger, and before its friends could secure it, the fawn was bounding away through the street, and the hound in full chase. The bystanders were eager to save it; several persons immediately followed its track; the friends who had long fed and fondled it, calling the name it had hitherto known, in vain.

5. The hunter endeavored to whistle back his dog, but with no success. In half a minute the fawn had turned the first corner, dashed onward toward the lake, and thrown itself into the water. But if for a moment the startled creature believed itself safe in the cool bosom of the lake, it was soon undeceived; for the hound followed in hot and eager chase, while a dozen village dogs joined blindly in the pursuit.

6. A large crowd collected on the bank--men, women, and children--anxious for the fate of the little animal so well known to them all. Some threw themselves into boats, hoping to intercept the hound before he reached his prey. The plashing of the oars, the eager voices of men and boys, and the barking of the dogs, must have filled the heart of the poor fawn with terror and anguish,--as though every creature on the spot where it had once been caressed and fondled, had suddenly turned into a deadly foe.

7. It was soon seen that the little animal was directing its course across a bay toward the nearest borders of the forest. Immediately the owner of the hound crossed the bridge, and ran at full speed, hoping to stop his dog as he landed. On swam the fawn, as it never swam before; its delicate head scarcely seen above the water, but leaving a disturbed track, which betrayed its course alike to its friends and foes.

8. As it approached the land, the interest became intense. The hunter was already on the same side of the lake, calling loudly and angrily to his dog; but the hound seemed to have quite forgotten his master's voice in the pitiless pursuit. The fawn reached the sh.o.r.e. With a leap it had crossed the narrow strip of beach, and in another instant it would reach the cover of the woods.

9. The hound followed true to the scent, pointing to the same spot on the sh.o.r.e; his master, anxious to meet him, had run at full speed, and was now coming up at the same critical moment. Will the dog listen to his voice?

or can the hunter reach him in time to seize and control him? A shout from the bank told that the fawn had pa.s.sed out of sight into the forest. At the same instant, the hound, as he touched the land, felt the hunter's strong arm clutching his neck. The worst was believed to be over; the fawn was leaping up the mountain side, and its enemy was restrained. The other dogs, seeing their leader cowed, were easily managed.

10. A number of persons, men and boys, dispersed themselves through the woods in search of the little creature, but without success; they all returned to the village, reporting that the fawn had not been seen. Some thought that after its fright had pa.s.sed it would return of its own accord. It wore a pretty collar with its owner's name engraved upon it, so that it could be easily known from any other fawn that might be straying about the woods.

11. Before many hours had pa.s.sed, a hunter presented himself to the lady whose pet the little creature had been, and showed a collar with her name upon it. He said that he was out hunting in the morning, and saw a fawn in the distance. The little pet, instead of bounding away, as he expected, moved toward him; he took aim, fired, and shot it through the heart.

DEFINITIONS.--l. Fawn, a young deer. Ca-ressed', fondled, petted. 3.

Di-lat'ed, extended, spread out. 4. Spec-ta'tors, those who look on. 6.

In-ter-cept', to stop, to seize. 7. Be-trayed', showed. 8. In-tense', extreme. 9. Scent, track followed by the sense of smell. Cowed, made afraid.

LXIV. ANNIE'S DREAM. (175)

1. It was a clear, cold, winter evening, and all the Sinclairs but Annie had gone out for a neighborly visit. She had resolved to stay at home and study a long, difficult lesson in Natural Philosophy.

2. Left to herself, the evening pa.s.sed quickly, but the lesson was learned a full half hour before the time set for the family to come home.

3. Closing her book, she leaned back in the soft armchair in which she was sitting, soon fell asleep, and began to dream. She dreamed that it was a very cold morning, and that she was standing by the dining-room stove, looking into the gla.s.s basin which was every day filled with water for evaporation.

4. "Oh, dear," she sighed, "it is nearly school time. I don't want to go out in the cold this morning. Then there is that long lesson. I wonder if I can say it. Let me see--it takes two hundred and twelve degrees of heat, I believe, for water to evaporate--"

5. "Nonsense!" "Ridiculous!" shouted a chorus of strange little voices near by; "Look here! is this water boiling? What an idea; two hundred and twelve degrees before we can fly, ha, ha!"

6. "Who are you?" asked Annie, in amazement. "Where must I look?" "In the basin, of course." 7. Annie looked, and saw a mult.i.tude of tiny forms moving swiftly around, their numbers increasing as the heat of the fire increased. "Why you dear little things!" said she, "what are you doing down there?"

8. "We are water sprites," answered one, in the clearest voice that can be imagined, "and when this delightful warmth comes all about us, we become so light that we fly off, as you see."

9. In another moment he had joined a crowd of his companions that were spreading their wings and flying off in curling, white clouds over Annie's head. But they were so light and thin that they soon disappeared in the air.

10. She could not see where they went, so she again turned to the basin.

"Does n't it hurt you," she asked one, "to be heated--?" "Not always to two hundred and twelve," said the sprite, mischievously.

11. "No, no," replied Annie, half-vexed; "I remember, that is boiling point--but I mean, to be heated as you all are, and then to fly off in the cold?"

12. "Oh, no," laughed the little sprite; "we like it. We are made to change by G.o.d's wise laws, and so it can't hurt us. We are all the time at work, in our way, taking different shapes. It is good for us. If you will go to the window, you will find some of my brothers and sisters on the gla.s.s."

13. Annie went to the window, and at first could see nothing but some beautiful frostwork on it. Soon, however, the panes seemed to swarm with little folks. Their wings were as white as snow, and sparkled with ice jewels.

14. "Oh," cried Annie, "this is the prettiest sight I ever saw. What is your name, darling?" she asked one that wore a crown of snow roses. The little voice that replied was so sharp and fine that Annie thought it seemed like a needle point of sound, and she began to laugh.

15. "Fine Frost is our family name," it said. "I have a first name of my own, but I shall not tell you what it is, for you are so impolite as to laugh at me."

16. "I beg your pardon, dear," said Annie; "I could not help it. I will not laugh at you any more if you will tell me how you came here. I have been talking with one of your brothers over there in the basin."

17. The little sprite then folded her wings in a dignified manner, and said, "I will tell you all I know about it, since you promise to be polite. It is a very short story, however.

18. "Last evening we all escaped from the gla.s.s basin, as you have seen our companions do this morning. Oh, how light and free we felt! But we were so very delicate and thin that no one saw us as we flew about in the air of the room.

19. "After a while I flew with these others to this window, and, as we alighted on the gla.s.s, the cold changed us from water sprites into sprites of the Fine Frost family." "It is very wonderful," said Annie. "Is it nice to be a sprite?"

20. "Oh, yes, we are very gay. All last night we had a fine time sparkling in the moonlight. I wore a long wreath full of ice pearls and diamonds.

Here is a piece of it. Before long we shall be water sprites again. I see the sun is coming this way."

21. "Shall you dread to be melted?" inquired Annie. "No, indeed," answered the sprite. "I like to change my form now and then."

22. A thought flashed across Annie's brain. What if she should breathe on the frost and not wait for the sun to melt it. In a moment more she had done so. Down fell a great number of the tiny mountains and castles, carrying with them a mult.i.tude of frost sprites, and all that could be seen was a drop of water on the window sill.

23. "Oh, dear! have I hurt them?" she exclaimed. "No, no," replied a chorus of many small voices from the drop of water, "we are only water sprites again. Nothing hurts us; we merely change." "But you are always pretty little things," said Annie. "I wish--"

24. Here a ring at the doorbell woke Annie. She started up to find the family had returned from their visit, which all declared was a delightful one. But Annie said she did not believe they had enjoyed their visit better than she had her half hour's dream.

DEFINITIONS.--1. Nat'u-ral Phi-los'o-phy, the study which teaches about the laws of matter in nature. 3. E-vap-o-ra'tion, the act of turning into vapor. 4. De-gree', a division of s.p.a.ce marked on an instrument such as a thermometer. 8. Wa'ter sprite, a spirit or fairy living in the water. 10.

Mis'chie-vous-ly, in a teasing manner. 13. Swarm, to be crowded. 18, Es-caped', got away, fled.

LXV. MY GHOST. (178)

By Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt, who was born near Lexington, Ky., in 1836. Among her published works may be mentioned "The Nests at Washington, and Other Poems," and "A Woman's Poems."

1. Yes, Katie, I think you are very sweet, Now that the tangles are out of your hair, And you sing as well as the birds you meet, That are playing, like you, in the blossoms there.

But now you are coming to kiss me, you say: Well, what is it for? Shall I tie your shoe?

Or loop up your sleeve in a prettier way?

"Do I know about ghosts?" Indeed I do.

2. "Have I seen one?" Yes; last evening, you know, We were taking a walk that you had to miss, (I think you were naughty, and cried to go, But, surely, you'll stay at home after this!) And, away in the twilight, lonesomely, ("What is the twilight?" It's--getting late!) I was thinking of things that were sad to me!-- There, hush! you know nothing about them, Kate.

3. Well, we had to go through the rocky lane, Close to that bridge where the water roars, By a still, red house, where the dark and rain Go in when they will at the open doors.

And the moon, that had just waked up, looked through The broken old windows, and seemed afraid, And the wild bats flew, and the thistles grew Where once in the roses the children played.

4. Just across the road by the cherry trees Some fallen white stones had been lying so long, Half hid in the gra.s.s, and under these There were people dead. I could hear the song Of a very sleepy dove as I pa.s.sed The graveyard near, and the cricket that cried; And I look'd (ah! the Ghost is coming at last!) And something was walking at my side.