JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 73 
(for I had none), but he had destroyed 
the matter.’’ 
During these days Audubon was very 
busy writing, painting, receiving callers, 
and dining out. He grew very tired of 
it all at times, and longed for the solitude 
of his native woods. Some days his 
room was a perfect levee. ‘It is Mr. 
Audubon here, and Mr. Audubon there ; 
I only hope they will not make a con- 
ceited fool of Mr. Audubon at last.”’ 
There seems to have been some danger 
of this, for he says: ‘‘I seem in a meas- 
ure to have gone back to my early days 
of society and fine dressing, silk stock- 
ings and pumps, and all the finery with 
which I made a popinjay of myseif in 
my youth. ... I wear my hair as long 
as usual, I believe it does as much for 
me as my paintings.”’ 
He wrote to Thomas Sully of Phila- 
delphia, promising to send him his 
first number, to be presented to the 
Philadelphia Society — ‘‘an institution 
