110 AUDUBON, THE NATURALIST 
with the aid of his tenant’s son, as many partridge as 
possible, had the whole Bakewell family to dinner under 
his roof at “Mill Grove.” 
Audubon’s choice of a wife, thus quickly made, 
marked a turning-point in his career, and the curious 
fact remains that while he might have ransacked the 
country from Florida to Maine, as he afterwards re- 
peatedly did in his search after birds, and woefully blun- 
dered, the woman who by her sterling qualities of mind 
and heart was the one to recognize and call forth the 
best that was in him, should have been placed by circum- 
stances close by his door. Whatever the world has 
ever owed to Audubon is a debt due to Lucy Bakewell, 
for every leaf of oak that is plaited for his brow, another 
of lavender should be twined for hers. 
During this gay but brief period of his life, Audubon 
has described himself as inordinately fond of dress, often 
cutting, as he said, an absurd figure by shooting in 
black satin breeches and silk stockings, and wearing the 
best shirts which the Philadelphia market could afford; 
he took pride, he adds, in riding the best horse that he 
could procure, and in having his guns and fishing tackle 
of the most expensive and ornate description. “Not a 
ball,” he said, “a skating match, a house or riding party 
took place without me.” 
While freely acknowledging his follies at this time, 
he was able to say that he was addicted to no vices. His 
usual custom was to rise with the dawn, when his bird 
studies ‘would begin, in the early hours which are best 
for this purpose. According to his own account, Audu- 
bon was extremely abstemious in his youth, for he de- 
clared that he had lived on fruits, vegetables and milk, 
with only an occasional indulgence in game and fish, and 
that he had not swallowed a single glass of wine or 
