Vo1 ' 1920 CVH ] Henshaw, In Memoriam: William Brewster. 9 



logs. He devoted his evening hours to his always voluminous 

 correspondence, and to writing up his bird notes for the day. But 

 he was never too much engrossed to pause long enough to discuss 

 a paragraph in one of Thoreau's books, of which naturally Walderi 

 was his favorite, or to listen to anything of moment out of the 

 book I was reading. For the writings of Thoreau he had high 

 regard, and was very familiar with them, as he was also with his 

 old haunts by pond and river. 



Being untrained in farming and having no zest for manual labor, 

 Brewster always employed a practical farmer and his wife to care 

 for his poultry, of which he had a fine flock, to look after the cows, 

 and to raise vegetables sufficient for the needs of his own family 

 and for distribution among his many friends. The surplus, never 

 very great, was sold; but he never tried to make the farm pay, or 

 even to make it self supporting. When the birds and squirrels 

 raided his beans, corn and strawberries, his reply to the complaint 

 of his farmer always was; " all right; remember to next year plant 

 more; plant enough for all of us." For he reckoned his bird and 

 mammal tenants as partners in the concern and, as such, entitled 

 to whatever they chose to appropriate. To meet a gray squirrel 

 homeward bound a half mile or more from Brewster's corn patch, 

 with a big ear of corn in his mouth, was a frequent occurrence; 

 and the vituperative remarks addressed to the rightful owner by 

 the enraged squirrel at being interrupted in his attempt to make an 

 honest living were, as Brewster used to say, "worth ntore than a 

 dozen ears of corn." 



The little interest he took in farming chiefly centered in the 

 restoration and care of a small apple orchard, many of the trees 

 when they came into his possession being superannuated and de- 

 cayed. These he doctored and grafted to superior kinds of fruit 

 and sprayed carefully until he brought them into vigorous bearing. 

 He was very proud of his apples. He was also much interested in 

 the construction of roads through the woods, which he laughingly 

 explained were for use when he and his friends became so decrepit 

 as to be unable to walk. 



Though never a professed botanist Brewster had an excellent 

 speaking acquaintance with the bulk of New England trees and 

 shrubs, and, to a lesser extent, with its flowering plants. He 



