Having had the privilege for the past twelve years of helping
Mr. Burroughs with his correspondence, I have been particularly
interested in the spontaneous responses which have come to him
from his young readers, not only in America, but from Europe,
New Zealand, Australia. Confident of his interest, they are boon
companions from the start. They describe their own environment,
give glimpses of the wild life about them, come to him with their
natural-history difficulties; in short, write as to a friend of
whose tolerant sympathy they feel assured. In fact, this is true
of all his correspondents. They get on easy footing at once. They
send him birds, flowers, and insects to identify; sometimes live
animals and birds--skylarks have been sent from England, which he
liberated on the Hudson, hoping to persuade them to become
acclimated; "St. John's Bread," or locust pods, have come to him
from the Holy. Land; pressed flowers and ferns from the Himalayas,
from Africa, from Haleakala.
Many correspondents are considerate enough not to ask for an answer,
realizing the countless demands of this nature made upon a man like
Mr. Burroughs; others boldly ask, not only for a reply, but for
a photograph, an autograph, his favorite poem written in his own
hand, a list of favorite books, his views on capital punishment,
on universal peace, on immortality; some naively ask for a sketch
of his life, or a character sketch of his wife with details of their
home life, and how they spend their time; a few modestly hope he
will write a poem to them personally, all for their very own.
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