I Never For A Day

Poor France, Thy Fine Climate, Rich Vineyards, And The Wishes Of The Learned Avail Nothing; Thou Art A Destitute Beggar, And Not The Powerful Friend Thou Wert Represented To Me.

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.

But The Moment A Bird Was Dead, No Matter How Beautiful It Had Been In Life, The Pleasure Of Possession Became Blunted For Me.

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

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.