I Cannot Help But Think

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 Wish I Had Eight Pairs Of Hands, And Another Body To Shoot The Specimens.

I Purchased Excellent And Beautiful Horses, Visited All Such Neighbors As I Found In Congenial Spirits, And Was As Happy As Happy Could Be.

Look At That Mallard As He Floats On The Lake; See His Elevated Head Glittering With Emerald Green, His Amber Eyes Glancing In The Light! Even At This Distance, He Has Marked You, And Suspects That You Bear No Goodwill Towards Him, For He Sees That You Have A Gun, And He Has Many A Time Been Frightened By Its Report, Or That Of Some Other. The Wary Bird Draws His Feet Under His Body, Springs Upon Then, Opens His Wings, And With Loud Quacks Bids You Farewell.

How Could I Make A Little Book, When I Have Seen Enough To Make A Dozen Large Books?