THE INVITATION 203 
In all excursions to the woods or to the shore, 
the student of ornithology has an advantage over 
his companions. He has one more resource, one 
more avenue of delight. He, indeed, kills two 
birds with one stone and sometimes three. If 
others wander, he can never go out of his way. 
His game is everywhere. The cawing of a crow 
makes him feel at home, while a new note or a new 
song drowns all care. Audubon, on the desolate 
coast, of Labrador, is happier than any king ever 
was; and on shipboard is nearly cured of his sea- 
sickness when a new gull appears in sight. 
One must taste it to understand or appreciate its 
fascination. The looker-on sees nothing to inspire 
such enthusiasm. Only a little feathers and a half- 
musical note or two; why all this ado? “Who 
would give a hundred and twenty dollars to know 
about the birds?” said an Eastern governor, half 
contemptuously, to Wilson, as the latter solicited 
a subscription to his great work. Sure enough. 
Bought knowledge is dear at any price. The most 
precious things have no commercial value. It is 
not, your Excellency, mere technical knowledge of 
the birds that you are asked to purchase, but a new 
interest in the fields and woods, a new moral and 
intellectual tonic, a new key to the treasure-house 
of nature. Think of the many other things your 
Excellency would get, —the air, the sunshine, the 
healing fragrance and coolness, and the many re- 
spites from the knavery and turmoil of political 
life. 
