THE WHITE DOE.

ONCE there was a fine old castle, which stood in the midst of a great park. Many tall trees were in the park, and many little flowers, and much green grass; and there was also a clear shining river like crystal, and little streams spreading out like silver; and there were squirrels in the trees, and vast numbers of birds; and rabbits and hares among the grass and shrubs, and fishes in the river, and smooth pebbles in the streams; and there was a holy stillness in the place, as if none but gentle and pure things dwelt therein. Now in this old castle dwelt a little girl, with a meek and loving heart, open to

receive all the pure lessons which those little creatures had to teach: like them she knew no evil, because she had never seen any. One day, as this little child was sitting on one of the lower steps leading up to the castle door, there came running up to her, all faint and panting, a lovely white doe, which threw itself down at her feet. Surprised and afraid, the child looked up, and saw in the distance many dogs seeking the pretty creature. But before they reached the spot, she had it taken to a place of safety, where the cruel dogs could not find it. After they had gone away, the child went to look at the white doe, and was grieved to find great tears on its face, and the sign

of much sorrow, and she feared that its heart was broken. But it lived on for two days, and on the third morning, when the child went to look at it, she found it stretched out upon its side, quite breathless and cold, and by its fawn, as white as snow.

side lay a little

Then the child

shed many tears over the lifeless doe, as she thought how its gentle heart had broken; but the dear little fawn she took into her arms, and warmed it, and gave it sweet milk to drink, and proper food to eat; but it was such a tender, helpless thing, that for many days she feared it would die. But it lived, and the child was blest; and when it became strong, she took a chain of flowers, and led it out

among the green grass into the pleasant sunshine; and it drank of the little streams, and leaped in the light, and ate of the tender grass; and the child clasped her arms about its neck, and looked into its gentle eyes, and upon its snowy skin, and her soul became whiter and purer as she gazed. Oh! it was a blessed thing to see those two gentle creatures, walking together in the clear sunshine, or standing in the silver moonlight, wreathed about with flowers, and clothed alike in snowy garments.

THE WALK BY TWILIGHT.

How pleasant it is to walk in the meadows at twilight, when the golden glory of sunset is fading in the west, and

the holy stars come one by one into the purple sky. And it is so pleasant to hear, at a distance, the joyous voices, and the merry laugh of children at play. My sister Rebecca and I have often been in the meadows at twilight, going home, tired, but yet happy, after long and pleasant rambling in Clifton grove, or in the village of Bridgford, or by the side of the river Trent, seeking for the flowering rush and the adder's tongue; walking in the shade of the elm-trees, and watching the dragon-flies flitting to and fro, like fairy rainbows; or wandering in Wilford churchyard, reading the verses on the tomb-stones, and listening to the almost ceaseless cawing of the rooks, which