JOURNAL OF MAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



11 



arived home, very tired and worn. I 

 visited him soon after his arrival and 

 he greeted me with his usual cordial 

 and hearty hand-shake and his bright, 

 cheeriul look. 



Nothing could marr his bright, sunny 

 uisposition! He failed slowly but sure- 

 ly from week to week, yet he bore 

 his pain and suffering, so patiently, 

 that it was hard to realize what he 

 passed through. His thoughts were 

 ever of those about him, who cared 

 for him tenderly, and did not want 

 them to tire themselves in caring for 

 him. In his last days, he remained 

 a true Ornithologist as he often spoke 

 of the birds, and asked his sister to 

 watch the millinery stores for feathers 

 on _iats, and ii any were offered tor 

 sale, to report at once to Mr. Swam, 

 who was on the committee. 



He said, on his return that he felt 

 he must do an he could for i^e Journal, 

 wnile he was able, and tried to prepare 

 a paper, but his strength would not 

 permit. Once he said: 'Little sister. I 

 can think better what I want to write 

 in Lne night, but I cannot write." Pat- 

 iently his sister sat up and waited to 

 write his thoughts for ~.m, till long in- 

 to the night, but his strength failed 

 mm and he had to give it up that he 

 had done all he was able. 



That he was a keen observer, the 

 following will illustrate: While sitting 

 in his window, and on the steps, he had 

 watched a pair of bobolinKs nest-build- 

 ing in the field back of the house. 



Carefully he marked the spot and 

 his sister offered to go and locate it 

 for him, but he said "No, I am not go- 

 ing to send you, for you may step on 

 the nest and eggs." He asked for his 

 rubber boots and walked strait to the 

 nest and four eggs. 



This was the last time he left the 

 premises in life. 



This closed his life-Work in the field. 

 He ordered a larger bookcase and as 

 his strength permitted, in his last 

 days, he carefully arranged his books 

 and magazines as he wanted them 

 left. When he had them all arranged, 

 said: "There, we will leave them there, 

 till another Ornithologist shall come in- 

 to the Morrill family." His specimens 

 ne carefully rearranged but did not 

 quite know what to do with them. But 

 saiu if there ever was a suitable place 

 in school or college, or other proper 

 place where they would be properly 

 appreciated and cared for, he would 

 uKe them to be placed there, but he 

 knew of no place at present, where 

 they would be appreciated." One of 

 ^xs last mentions of his specimens was 

 "Mother aon't let any 'hobo' handle my 

 eggs, for if they must be changed 

 please get one of the boys to do it, as 

 .- ey understand it better." He also in- 

 structed ms sister how to Keep the 

 moths from the specimens. 



His mother said she though one rea- 

 son why he did not dispose of his books 

 a^ specimens was, that he though so 

 mucxi of them that they represented his 

 whole life's work and that he could not 

 bear the thoughts of giving them away, 

 iet, he wanted them to be where they 

 might be of use. 



On June 24 I called to see him and 

 realized he had failed very rapidly 

 since I saw him before. ,et he had 

 retained his usual cheerful spirits. 

 Though he seemed very tired and 

 worn, and to talk was an effort to him. 

 x made my stay short, and as I left the 

 house, he said, "Well, Merton, call next 

 trip, I think I may be here once more." 

 I tried to cheer him as best I could, 

 but Left the house with a heavy heart. 

 Ah, how little did I realize that in 

 tnree weeks from that day, he would 

 be no more! During the last few days 

 ot his life, he wrote to one of his bird 



