The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1889-03-08
A ROOM FULL OF BIRDS.
How Olive Thorne Miller Writes Surrounded
by Feathered Pets.

How Olive Thorne Miller Writes Surrounded
by Feathered Pets.
In these days of inquiry into the
literary habits of writers Olive Thorne
Miller's bird room ought to find de-
scription.
Thoreau observed the shy, wild
things of the woods from his hut by
Walden pond. Burroughs looks out
on the open air world from an up
Hudson farm. Roe studied among
the strawberry beds in his garden.
Like Hamilton Gibson, the nature ar
fist, Olive Thorne Miller goes to the
heart of nature in summer, but shuts
herself up in winter in Brooklyn town.
She shuts the birds in with her and
her bird room is the most interesting
apartment that ever a city house held.
In it the little folks in feathers disport
themselves almost in freedom. It is
her study, at times her sleeping room,
but robins run up and down the floor
in fashion as saucy and clipper as if
they were picking up worms in the
pasture land after q June rain. A
bold blueiay trails the ink over the
paper while she writes, and the notes
that she's jotting cover every move
ment Of the shy bluebird preening
himself in the sunshine, secure in the
belief that her back is turned, while
all the time her eyes are fixed on his
reflection in the mirror in her hand.
Birds splash in the bath dishes, birds
dart and tumble and play tricks in the
air. There are cages wire cages,
mind you, not wood-hanging at the
windows. The door of every cage is
open. From every cage door leads a
perch projecting six inches or more
into the room. There are perches
crossing each window. There are
perches from the gas fixtures to the
windows. There are perches in every
convenient spot in the room.
In front of one of the windows
stands table covered with a rubber
spread. On the table are one or two
perches and a row of tin pie plates
painted dull brown color and rough
ened by having gravel sprinkled upon
them before the paint was dry. These
are the bath pans. They are full of
water, and delightful beach picnic
the birds are having in them.
There is mating on the floor in lieu
of carpet. This is study and bed
room, you remember, and must be
furnished for human as we'll as
feathered occupation. Mating can be
washed, and does not hold dust enough
to give Mrs. Miller's little winged
friends the asthma. There are shades
at the windows, but no lace curtains
for claws to catch in, tangling up
small toes, There is no upholstery,
but plenty of wooden and rattan
chairs.
There is no embroidery, no knick-
knacks, nothing for inquisitive beaks
to pick at and injure, but there is
bookcase or two with cloths laid over
the rows Of volumes, plainly furnished
dressing table, everything simple, but
pretty, not in the least bare.
Under the most frequent perches are
spread newspapers, and, curiously
enough, the bird population keeps to
these, and, Mrs. Miller says, seldom
soils anything in the room.
In far corner we'll out of their
way-for the bird student does not
believe in overtaming the wild Great
ures- stands Mrs. Miller's writing desk.
On stand BY its side is a pile Of note
books, each lettered with the name Of
one of the birds. Bird tragedies and
comedies, bird loves and griefs, every
phase of bird life and experience is
being enacted, and day by day the wo-
man who watches it all is writing each
birds diary, making a library Of bird
biography.-New York Mail and Ex-
press