"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 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 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.

"Well, nurse, one day he found a poor little Indian boy who had been lost
in the woods and was half starved, sick and weak, and the kind gentleman
took him home to his house, and fed and nursed him till he got quite
strong again. Was not that good, nurse?"