JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 81 
Early in January he is back in Lon- 
don arranging with Mr. Havell for the 
numbers to be engraved in 1828. One 
day on looking up to the new moon 
he saw a large flock of wild ducks pass- 
ing over, then presently another flock 
passed. The sight of these familiar 
objects made him more homesick than 
ever. He often went to Regent’s Park 
to see the trees, and the green grass, and 
to hear the sweet notes of the black birds 
and starlings. 
The black birds’ note revived his 
drooping spirits: to his wife he writes, 
“it carries my mind to the woods 
around thee, my Lucy.’’ 
Now and then a subscriber withdrew 
his name, which always cut him to the 
quick, but did not dishearten him. 
“ January 28. I received a letter 
from D. Lizars to-day announcing to 
me the loss of four subscribers; but 
these things do not dampen my spirits 
half so much as the smoke of London. 
I am as dull as a beetle.’’ 
