A Really Interested Friend. 
We like the letters from Mr. Theo- 
dore H. Cooper of Batavia, Xew York. 
We have been able to publish some 
things he has written and would gladly 
publish more if we could find room in 
the present crowded condition of The 
Guide to Nature. 
Mr. Cooper writes delightfully of his 
observations of a spider viewed under 
a magnifying glass, telling how it 
moved first one leg and then another 
in ascending a “high cliff’’ on the sur- 
face of a boulder, seemingly to look 
around like a man who has climbed a 
hill to get his bearings. 
He concludes an extended letter of 
interesting observations afield by tell- 
ing of a faithful friend who is always 
interested in what he is doing: 
“Very often of late when returning 
home from the woods I pass a friend, 
whose picture I enclose, who always 
seems glad to see me. and who as yet 
has not asked me what profit I find in 
tramping around the fields like a hobo. 
She seems not so much interested in 
what I have found or what I have to say 
as in myself.” 
(The picture enclosed was that of a 
cow i) 
The Ignorance of the Uninterested. 
A “queer-bird” they called him. 
The neighbors thought he was a 
vagrant. 
When a policeman interrogated him. 
he began to tell him about some 
cuckoos or something that the disin- 
terested “arm of the law” was totally 
ignorant of and. for that reason, 
asked: “Do you live around here?” 
thought the “poor nut” was demented. 
With a snort of derision, the officer 
“Oh. no,” answered the old gentle- 
man. “I’m living in New York, but I 
come here every spring to be with the 
birds. I’m very fond of birds.” 
“Well,” said the officer bluntly, 
“some of the folks around here are com- 
plaining. They think you’re a queer 
bird yourself.” 
“Do they?” exclaimed the amazed old 
gentleman. “How very extraordinary 
— here’s my card — it may explain 
matters.” 
The card read: “Professor Malcolm 
Ogilvie, New York Ornithological So- 
ciety, 53 Jane Street. New York.” 
’Twas ever thus! 
Years ago Bradford Torrey describes 
a like experience and it has happened 
to those interested in nature since the 
beginning : 
“While I stood peering into the 
thicket, a man whom I knew came 
along the road and caught me thus dis- 
reputably employed. 
“Without doubt he thought me a lazy 
good-for-nothing : or possibly (being 
more charitable), he said to himself, 
‘Poor fellow ! he’s losing his mind.’ 
“Take a gun on your shoulder, and 
go wandering about the woods all day 
long, and you will be looked upon with 
respect, no matter though you kill 
nothing bigger than a chipmunk ; or 
stand by the hour at the end of a fishing 
pole, catching nothing but mosquito- 
bites. and your neighbors will think no 
ill of you. 
“But to be seen staring at a bird for 
five minutes together, or picking road- 
side weeds ! — well, it is fortunate that 
there are asylums for ‘the crazy.’ 
“Not unlikely the malady will grow 
on him ; and who knows how soon he 
may become dangerous? 
“Something must be wrong about 
that to which we are accustomed. 
“Blowing out the brains of rabbits 
and squirrels is an innocent and de- 
lightful pastime, as everybody knows ; 
and the delectable excitement of pull- 
ing half-grown fishes out of the pond 
to perish miserably on the bank, that, 
too, is a recreation easily enough ap- 
preciated. 
“But what shall be said of enjoying 
birds without killing them, or of taking 
pleasure in plants, which so far as we 
know, cannot suffer even if we do kill 
them ?” 
Another instance of the same lack of 
