FIELD AND STUDY 



about it afterward, the more it impressed me. I am 

 not the least bit credulous about such things; I have 

 never observed that the birds, or other wild crea- 

 tures, behave in any way exceptionally toward me, 

 or toward any one else. The legends in the old liter- 

 ature of the power of certain saintly persons, like 

 St. Francis of Assisi, over the birds and animals, 

 I look upon as legends merely. They are probably 

 greatly exaggerated accounts of the power of gen- 

 tleness and kindliness over the lower orders. The 

 movements, the tones of the voice, the expression of 

 the face, all play a part in the impression we make 

 upon man or beast. I have always been successful in 

 handling bees, because I am not afraid of bees, and 

 go among them as if I had a right there. I am suc- 

 cessful in making friends with dogs, because I show 

 no suspicion or hesitancy toward them, and, as it 

 were, extend to them the hand of fellowship. But 

 the case of the fox sparrow is the single incident 

 I can recall that might be interpreted, in the spirit 

 of the old legends, as showing special sympathy 

 and understanding between man and birds. The 

 incident of the woman artist with the wrens nesting 

 in her room, and their perching on her table and 

 talking wren-talk to her, is of the same character. 

 Such things may afford hints of some psychic con- 

 dition, some community of mind between the 

 human and the animal, as yet but little understood, 

 but they are far from convincing. 



