A COTTON PLANTATION. 183 
was very fond of natural history, and often 
regretted that he had not given time to it 
in his youth. As it was, he protected the 
birds on his plantation, and the place was 
full of them. I should find his woods inter- 
esting, he felt sure. Florida was extremely 
rich in birds; he believed there were some 
that had never been classified. ‘“ We have 
orioles here,” he added; and so far, at any 
rate, he was right; I had seen perhaps 
twenty that day (orchard orioles, that is), 
and one sat in a tree before us at the mo- 
ment. His whole manner was most kindly 
and hospitable, — as was that of every Talla- 
hassean with whom I had occasion to speak, 
— and I told him with sincere gratitude that 
I should certainly avail myself of his cour- 
tesy and stroll through his woods. 
I approached them, two mornings after- 
ward, from the opposite side, where, find- 
ing no other place of entrance, I climbed a 
six-barred, tightly locked gate — feeling all 
the while like “a thief and a robber” — in 
front of a deserted cabin. Then I had only 
to cross a grassy field, in which meadow larks 
were singing, and I was in the woods. I 
wandered through them without finding any- 
