We afterwards met the vessel in
several other harbors.'
"The name of John James Audubon, we should hope, is quote sufficient
to ensure him a cordial welcome throughout the British dominions in
America, and we sincerely hope that his visit to Quebec may hereafter
be a source of pleasing remembrance to him.
"H.
"Quebec, Sept. 23, 1842."
(From the Antiquarian and Numismatic Journal.)
MY VISIT TO SPENCER GRANGE, QUEBEC, IN 1856, THE COUNTRY SEAT OF J. M.
LEMOINE.
BY BENJAMIN SULTE, THE HISTORIAN OF "THREE RIVERS."
[Translated from the French.]
One of the greatest attractions for me, says Mr. Sulte, in visiting
Spencer Grange, was its museum of Canadian birds, comprising two-
thirds of the Feathered tribe of the Dominion, with a fair sprinkling
of foreign specimens in the skin, and a collection of birds' eggs. Our
friend, long known among Canadian naturalists for his persevering
efforts during twenty years to popularize [233] the beautiful and
instructive study of ornithology, had evidently met with more than one
ally - in fact, many sympathizers. I am inclined to think - in his
special branch of natural history., Each class of birds, in this
apartment, has its corner; judging by the label, its "habitation,", as
well as name.
The thrushes and flycatchers of Canada, from their exquisite bright
tints or delicate arrow-shaped markings, are particularly conspicuous.
The cinnamon-backed cuckoo must be a graceful minstrel in our green
hedges in July, though I am ashamed to admit I never was lucky enough
to meet him. The oriole, blue jay, officer-bird, summer red-bird,
indigo-bird and golden-winged woodpecker form a group of striking
beauty; a most excellent idea, I would say, to thus place in
juxtaposition the most gorgeously habited of our feathered choristers
for the sake of contrasts.
A succession of drawers contain the nests and eggs, scientifically
labelled, of many Canadian species, and of some of the most melodious
songsters of France and England; pre-eminent stands the Italian,
French and Devonshire nightingale and its eggs. Our time was much too
limited to allow us to treasure up all the anecdotes and theories
anent birds, their mysterious spring and autumn migrations, their
lively memory of places, so agreeably dealt out to us. We cannot,
however, entirely omit noticing some curious objects we saw - the tiny
nest of a West Indian humming bird male out of a piece of sponge, and
he cubiculum of a redheaded woodpecker, with its eggs still in
it, scooped out of the decayed heart of a silver birch tree, with the
bird's head still peering from the orifice in the bark. Here, as well
as in the library, the presentations were numerous:
