I ran downstairs and told them to erase my name, which
was done without one word of astonishment or reproof from either.

I wish I knew how to describe Hannah Whitehall Smith as she was in her
everyday life. Such simple nobility, such tenderness for the tempted,
such a love for sinners, such a longing to show them the better way.
She said to me: "If my friends must go to what is called Hell I want
to go with them." When a minister, who was her guest, was greatly
roused at her lack of belief in eternal punishment and her infinite
patience with those who lacked moral strength, he said: "There are
surely some sins your daughters could commit which would make you
drive them from your home." "There are no sins my daughters could
commit which would not make me hug them more closely in my arms and
strive to bring them back." Wherewith he exclaimed bitterly: "Madam,
you are a mere mucilaginous mess." She made no reply, but her husband
soon sent him word that a carriage would be at the door in one hour to
convey him to the train for New York.

* * * * *

"If you do not love the birds, you cannot understand them."

I remember enjoying an article on the catbird several years ago in the
_Atlantic Monthly_, and wanting to know more of the woman who had
observed a pair of birds so closely, and could make so charming a
story of their love-affairs and housekeeping experiences, and thinking
that most persons knew next to nothing about birds, their habits, and
homes.

Mrs. Olive Thorne Miller, who wrote that bird talk, is now a dear
friend of mine, and while spending a day with me lately was kind
enough to answer all my questions as to how and where and when she
began to study birds. She is not a young woman, is the proud
grandmother of seven children; but her bright face crowned with
handsome white hair, has that young, alert, happy look that comes with
having a satisfying hobby that goes at a lively pace. She said: "I
never thought of being anything but a housekeeping mother until I was
about thirty-one and my husband lost all his property, and want, or a
thousand wants, stared us in the face. Making the children's clothes
and my own, and cooking as well, broke down my health, so I bethought
me of writing, which I always had a longing to do."

"What did you begin with?"

"Well, pretty poor stuff that no one was anxious to pay for; mostly in
essay form expressing my own opinions on various imp