278 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



resemble crows when seen, small and black, scattered 

 far out on the wide waste of sand. When the men 

 are away at sea and those noisy little animals, the 

 children, are shut up in school, you can imagine that 

 there is no longer any life in Wells; you would not 

 be in a quieter place on the wide brown marsh itself, 

 nor on the low grassy sand-hills faintly seen in the 

 distance, nor on the wide stretch of sand beyond, 

 where the men, crow-like, are seeking their subsistence. 



To Wells I accordingly went on October 17, yet 

 was no sooner in this ideal spot than I began to think 

 it was the last place where I could do any work, since 

 even the noises and distractions of London would 

 have a less disturbing effect than that low murmur, 

 that familiar yet ever strange sound of the old old 

 sea, that came to me by day and night, and the 

 wild cries and calls of passing birds, especially the 

 cries of the geese. 



It is related of a man who has a great reputation 

 in his day which is now ended, that he was once 

 taken to task by a friend for having settled himself 

 at Wells. You, his friend said, with your love of 

 mankind, your noble ideals, your many talents, and 

 especially your eloquence in addressing your fellow- 

 men — how can you endure to waste your years in 

 this dead-alive little town in a marsh ? 



The other answered that it was because Wells 

 was the only town in England where, sitting at ease 

 in his study, he could listen to the cries of wild geese. 



To me, just a naturalist, these same cries were 

 even more than to that famous man: to sit still and 



