m. Only a few feathers
and a half-musical note or two; why all this ado? "Who would give a
hundred and twenty dollars to know about the birds?" said an Eastern
governor, half contemptuously, to Wilson, as the latter solicited a
subscription to his great work. Sure enough. Bought knowledge is dear
at any price. The most precious things have no commercial value. It is
not, your Excellency, mere technical knowledge of the birds that you
are asked to purchase, but a new interest in the fields and the woods,
a new moral and intellectual tonic, a new key to the treasure-house of
Nature. Think of the many other things your Excellency would get,--the
air, the sunshine, the healing fragrance and coolness, and the many
respites from the knavery and turmoil of political life.

Yesterday was an October day of rare brightness and warmth. I spent
the most of it in a wild, wooded gorge of Rock Creek. A persimmon-tree
which stood upon the bank had dropped some of its fruit in the water.
As I stood there, half-leg deep, picking them up, a wood duck came
flying down the creek and passed over my head. Presently it returned,
flying up; then it came back again, and, sweeping low around a bend,
prepared to alight in a still, dark reach in the creek which was
hidden from my view. As I passed that way about half an hour
afterward, the duck started up, uttering its wild alarm note. In the
stillness I could hear the whistle of its wings and the splash of the
water when it took flight. Near by I saw where a raccoon had come down
to the water for fresh clams, leaving his long, sharp track in the mud
and sand. Before I had passed this hidden stretch of water, a pair of
those mysterious thrushes, the gray-cheeked, flew up from the ground
and perched on a low branch.

Who can tell how much this duck, this footprint in the sand, and these
strange thrushes from the far north, enhanced the interest and charm
of the autumn woods?

Ornithology cannot be satisfactorily learned from the books. The
satisfaction is in learning it from nature. One must have an original
experience with the birds. The books are only the guide, the
invitation. Though there remain not another new species to describe,
any young person with health and enthusiasm has open to him or her the
whole field anew, and is eligible to experience all the thrill and
delight of the original discoverers.

But let me say, in the same breath, that the books can by no manner of
means be dispe