introductions to books; that he address certain women's clubs;
that he visit a school, or a nature-study club, or go from Dan to
Beersheba to hold Burroughs Days--each writer, as a rule, urging his
claim as something very special, to which a deaf ear should not be
turned. Not all his correspondents are as considerate as the little
girl who was especially eager to learn his attitude toward snakes,
and who, after writing a pretty letter, ended thus: "Inclosed you
will find a stamp, for I know it must be fearfully expensive and
inconvenient to be a celebrity."

Occasionally he is a little severe with a correspondent, especially
if one makes a preposterous statement, or draws absurd conclusions
from faulty observations. But he is always fair. The following
letter explains itself:--


Your first note concerning my cat and hog story made me as mad as a
hornet, which my reply showed. Your second note has changed me into
a lamb, as nearly as a fellow of seventy-five can become one. . . .

I have read, I think, every book you ever wrote, and do not let any
production of yours escape me; and I have a little pile of framed
copies of your inimitable "My Own" to diffuse among people at
Christmas; and all these your writings make me wonder and shed
metaphorical tears to think that you are such a heretic about
reason in animals. But even Homer nods; and it is said
Roosevelt has moments of silence. S. C. B.


The questions his readers propound are sometimes very amusing. A