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THE ROE-BUCK.
One morning I thought I would pay a visit to
the deer-house, and endeavour to draw one of
its inmates into a conversation with me. I
am particularly fond of these graceful animals,
who always seem to me to be so sad at heart
about some unknown woe which they are afraid
to communicate to others. With such thoughts
as these in my head, and feeling very
sympathetic with the poor, disconsolate deer, I
wended my way to their shed.
"Good morning,dear!" I said to a handsome
buck that was standing with his nose pressed
against the railings of his house. But he only
just threw up his head and looked into my face
with his large pensive eyes, and at once cast
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