The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-05-05

1887. From earliest boyhood he was in
terested in the mysteries of life-forms.
Nearly every poem in his little book be-
speaks the lover of nature Every phase
of life appeals to him, but when he was
about IA years old his attention was
directed to the study of birds and to
this study he has devoted nearly all the
years since. In 1889 he was sent to Ne
vada to collect birds and mammals
for the United States Department of
Agriculture. He subsequently entered
the University of California and was
elected a member of the Academy of
Sciences, where he has been for several
years an active worker, lecturing, writing
and partly editing the magazine Zoe. !"
He was prime mover in the organization
of the Geological Club, besides organizing
and for three years conducting the Evolu-
ton Club of Berkeley. During these years
there was growing in his brain the plan of
book which has caused more than a little
stir in scientific circles on the evolution of
color in birds. In gathering the notes for
this work the author visited all the prin-
cipal museums of the East. Unable to
procure the manufacture ON this coast of
the plates that illustrated the book, or to
give time to personal superintendent of
their production in the East, he was
obliged to learn the photographer art and
make them himself. The book was issued
and is valuable addition to the literature
of ornithology.
A year or two ago Mr.. Keller married a
daughter of j. S. Bunnell of Berkeley.
Mrs. Keller, who is niece of Mary Mapes
Dodge, is as gifted in pictorial art as is her
husband in poesy and science. The little
book of verse is illustrated with drawings
of hers and photographers from paintings
by William Keith.
An analysis of Charles Keeler's verse
would be difficult to make. 1t is often
crude. His expressions are sometimes
harsh, and here and there are limping
lines, but through all of his work runs that
subtle, indefnable something that stamps
the work with promise. None OF 1t is
merely pretty, though now and again a
bit sings sweetly as any bird, as in this
song:
It's /! and it's o!
Where the cowslips grow,
Down in the meadow my love, Wen go,
Where the song sparrow starts from his hidden
And dewdrops hang on each grass blades CREST
Well find where the breeze murmurs coolest and
To rest my love, to rest.
Perhaps no better bit could be given to
represent both the naturalist and the poet
than this sonnet:
TO A FLOATING SEED.
Frail winged fairy, born in summers glow,
Launching upon the Worlu'S uncertain way.
Slight, dainty voyager, brooking no delay
Upon thy course that bends at last so low:
Chasing the careless winds that round thee blow,
Or climbing at the sky in airy play
Upon thy life's one joyful holiday
Before thou seekst thy patient, silent woe:
Oh seeding, when / see thee floating by
My heart is filled with wonder and with awe
TO think what loneliness thou dost imply;
What promise! what RESULT what constant law!
To think that thou art fruit and flowers to be,
The Joy and gladness of futurity.
At present Mr.. Keller is at work upon a
series of poems which he calls "Souls of
CREATION Readings From the Epic of
Evolution" would be a more comprehen-
sive title, for this is exactly what the
poems are. He has put into verse, at times
into heroic verse, something of that
mighty, mysterious poetic force that is
working behind the ages.