Colonel Roosevelt. It was the business of the bird expert in London to
know about birds. Colonel Roosevelt's knowledge was a mere incident
acquired, not as part of the work of his life, but entirely outside it.
I remember thinking at the time how strange it seemed that the
golden-crested wren, which is the very smallest bird which we have in
England, should be the only song bird which the great continent of North
America has in common with us.

But points of view are different in different countries. We may find
ourselves looking, not only at political questions, but at incidents in
natural history from a different point of view when we are on different
sides of an ocean. The other day I was in a contemplative mood not far
from Washington. I was thinking what a great country I was in, how much
larger the rivers were and how vast the distances, and generally working
up in my own mind an impression of the great size of the country. Then I
happened to recall this incident of the golden-crested wren, and I
found myself thinking, of course, in a tiny little island like Great
Britain, where one cannot go in an express train at fifty miles an hour
from east to west or from north to south in a straight line for more
than fifteen hours without falling into the sea, the only song we could
have in common with a great continent like this would be the song of the
smallest bird.

One trivial incident there was in our walk which gave us some amusement.
We were going by footpaths down a river valley, a very beautiful, but a
very tame and settled country, where anything like an adventure seemed
impossible. We were on a path which I had known for many years, and
along which I had walked many times, not only without adventure, but
without even incident. Suddenly we found ourselves stopped--the path was
flooded, some weeds had blocked the river close by, and instead of a dry