CHAPTEK XXVIII 



THE HOME OF AUDUBON ON THE HUDSON WHAT A NATUBAL- 



IST'S HOME SHOULD BE THE MUSICAL WOODPECKER 



LET us now, in fancy, following implied facts, pay a 

 visit to Audubon in his serene old age. What was the 

 home life of this man who had left the great studies of 

 the historic painter David, while yet a youth, to draw and 

 picture American forest birds? 



It is a June day on the Hudson, near the fifties. We 

 steal away from the hammering, growing, pulsing city, to 

 Audubon Park, a place now within the city, to a country- 

 seat, then a little way out of the city. The home of the 

 naturalist is beautiful; it is shaded with noble trees; it has 

 two balconies, or a portico and a balcony, and the latter 

 looks down the winding way of the Hudson. 



We enter the grounds, and the wonders begin. The 

 air is full of life, the flowers are blooming, and the birds 

 are singing; we feel the charm of nature in happiest mood; 

 we stop in the grounds, where a noble elk lifts his horns, 

 and some fawns stand near him, and as he looks toward us 



their eyes follow his. 



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