File:In the days of Audubon; a tale of the "protector of birds," (1901) (14563292630).jpg

Identifier: indaysofaudubont00butt (find matches)
Title: In the days of Audubon; a tale of the "protector of birds,"
Year: 1901 (1900s)
Authors: Butterworth, Hezekiah, 1839-1905
Subjects: Audubon, John James, 1785-1851 Birds Audubon societies
Publisher: New York, D. Appleton and company
Contributing Library: American Museum of Natural History Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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words: Your mother held in her arms your baby sister. Shefelt the pangs of misfortune perhaps more heavily than I,but never for an hour lost her courage; her brave andcheerful spirit accepted all, and no reproaches from herlips ever wounded my heart. With her was I always not rich? Audubons heart lived more and more in the affectionof Victor, who amid all misfortune was the same to him.He thus wrote to him in regard to his wife: Should the Author of all things deprive me of mylife work for the comfort of the dear being who gaveyou birth. Work for her, my son, as long as it may bethe pleasure of God to grant her life. Never neglect hera moment; in a word, prove to her that you are trulya son. * Victor Audubon needed not such an admonition. Hewas a gentleman in himself, and he carried with him thefamily heart. In his adversity Audubon never neglected the giftthat was in him. He says—and what a picture this is!— Among all these adverse circumstances I never for * Audubons own words.
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Father and son painted together THE SICK BOY 143 a day gave up listening to the songs of our birds, or watch-ing their peculiar habits, or delineating them in the bestway I could; nay, during my deepest troubles I frequentlywould wrench myself away from the people around meand retire to some secluded part of our noble forests, andmany a time at the sound of the wood-thrushes melodieshave I fallen upon my knees and there prayed earnestlyto our God. It was the winter of 1823-24. Audubon had returnedfrom the long Southern journey to Louisville, the journeyon which he had been stricken down with the yellow fever,when his faithful wife went out into the forests to nursehim. He engaged a room for himself and Victor at Ship-pingport, where the father and son painted all winter. He gave himself to his life illustrations, doing as perfectwork as he was able on his beloved Birds of America. Helived simply in a single room, but the sky, the bright waters,and the forests all were his. He talked t

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