"You must guess what it is to be about, nurse."
"I am afraid I shall not guess right. Is it 'Little Red Riding Hood,' or
'Old Mother Hubbard,' or 'Jack the Giant-killer?'"
"Oh, nurse, to guess such silly stories!" said the little girl, stopping
her ears. "Those are too silly for me even to tell baby! My story is a
nice story about a darling tame beaver. Major Pickford took me on his knee
and told me the story last night."
Mrs. Frazer begged Lady Mary's pardon for making such foolish guesses, and
declared she should like very much to hear Major Pickford's story of the
tame beaver.
"Well, nurse, you must know there was once a gentleman who lived in the
bush, on the banks of a small lake, somewhere in Canada, a long, long way
from Montreal. He lived all alone in a little log-house, and spent his
time in fishing and trapping and hunting; and he was very dull, for he had
no wife, and no little child like me to talk to. The only people whom he
used to see were some French lumberers; and now and then the Indians would
come in their canoes and fish on his lake, and make their wigwams on the
lake-shore, and hunt deer in the wood. The gentleman was very fond of the
Indians, and used to pass a great deal of his time with them, and talk to
them in their own language.
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