I Cannot Help But Think A Curious

Never Give Up Listening To The Sounds Of Birds.

A Mocking Bird Regularly Resorts To The South Angle Of A Chimney Top And Salutes Us With Sweetest Notes From The Rising Of The Moon Until About Midnight.

The Fact Is I Am Growing Old Too Fast, Alas! I Feel It, And Yet Work I Will, And May God Grant Me Life To See The Last Plate Of My Mammoth Work Finished.

I Never For A Day Gave Up Listening To The Songs Of Our Birds, Or Watching Their Peculiar Habits, Or Delineating Them In The Best Way I Could.

On Landing At New York I Caught The Yellow Fever By Walking To The Bank At Greenwich To Get The Money To Which My Father's Letter Of Credit Entitled Me. The Kind Man Who Commanded The Ship That Brought Me From France, Whose Name Was A Common One, John Smith, Took Particular Charge Of Me, Removed Me To Morristown, N. J., And Placed Me Under The Care Of Two Quaker Ladies Who Kept A Boarding - House. To Their Skilful And Untiring Ministrations I May Safely Say I Owe The Prolongation Of My Life.