Lawson—Thure Kumlien. 
681 
From a letter which Kumlien wrote his son Frithiof, we get 
an account of the crowds of people that came to him within the 
space of a few days. 
“Last Monday Currin was here with 75 or 100 followers of both sexes. 
Now for two or three days I have had a visitor by name of iStiles from 
Lake Mills, a man much interested in natural history” ( 23 ). “Two other 
visitors today. Next Saturday I expect 40 boys and I don’t know how 
many girl students from Whitewater Normal under the guidance of Prof. 
Wooster” ( 20 ). 
This is the story of one week, and we do not wonder that he 
writes in the same letter “the tobacco plant bed is quite good 
except where the cows have perambulated.” These mobs of people 
who came and went all summer, every season enjoyed the expert, 
kind naturalist, and he gave them real pleasure and inspiration. 
In the host of letters we have seen the writers all love to recall 
the good naturalist with warmest love and admiration. 
Kumlien was the recipient of honorary degrees from several 
institutions of learning, and was corresponding member of a 
number of learned societies in Europe and America (4). 
He joined the American Ornithologists’ Union in its first year 
(1883) (15). He was elected corresponding member of the Bos¬ 
ton Society of Natural History June 7, 1854. He was a member 
of the Wisconsin Natural History Society, and of the Wisconsin 
Academy of Science, Arts, and Letters, founded in 1870. 
Kumlien amused himself all his life with the flute. At an 
early age back in Sweden he took up that delightful instrument. 
There are three notebooks still in possession of his family, that he 
made for the flute in 1839, when he was twenty years old. 
“One male oriole was known to return to the Kumlien homestead five 
years in succession with a mate, and build its nest on the same limb each 
year. The bird was accustomed to answer a certain note on the flute, 
and seemed happy to try to imitate different flute notes” ( 16 ). 
Ludwig Kumlien took wild mourning doves from the nest when 
young. They were raised at the old home, in 1872, and became 
quite tame. At the time a letter was written by Thure Kumlien 
to Dr. Brewer, the doves had been captive two years: 
“The male is so tame, he will light on my head, allow me to take him 
in my hand and stroke him. He will coo whenever I ask him, unless 
strangers are present. He will coo evenings after dark. He is sure to 
coo if I play a melancholy tune on the flute.” 
