42 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW 



it for some minutes, and twice it opened its eyes drowsily and 

 looked at us, but evidently convinced we had called it too soon, it 

 returned to the land of nod. 



Half an hour later I was at Headquarters telling: Mr. Bartlett 

 of our latest adventure. Hearing we had left the creature un- 

 disturbed, the superintendent caught up his camera, and we 

 paddled full speed to the foot of a steep cliff not far from the 

 sleeping fawn. There it was, just as we had left it. Mr. Bartlett 

 took several snaps of it, and finally, at his suggestion, I stepped 

 rotind to the back of the fallen tree under which the fawn lay, and 

 thrusting my arm cautiously through the brushwood lowered it 

 till I could touch the creature with outstretched hand. I stroked 

 it, twice, very gently, with the tips of my fingers; but this was too 

 much for even cervine endurance; it twitched its skin violently, 

 as a calf might to dislodge a fly, and then starting up, bounded 

 off a few paces on its long legs. Even then, reluctant (as it were) 

 to go, it faced about for a last look at us before passing leisurely 

 out of sight through the woods. 



It never returned to this lair, but chose a new one; and a week 

 later, when I nearly stepped on it lying beneath the broken end of 

 a dead birch in the heart of the woods, it had already learned its 

 first lesson of fear. 



Three Poems by Virginia Baker 



Blue-eyed Grass 



Pretty maids in frocks of green 

 Hiding in the meadow grass, 



Peeping out with starry eyes. 

 Blue as summer's bluest skies, 



At me as I softly pass; 



Tell me, little ones, oh why 



You're so very, very shy 

 That you shrink from being seen. 



Tell me what it is you fear 

 In this quiet, sheltered spot? 



Who would any evil do 

 To such fairy mites as you? 



