He wrote several books and a great many articles which appeared in the big magazines. He wrote about animals, insects, and flowers, and his information was gained at first hand. He knew these things because he lived among them and loved them. His knowledge was recognized and appreciated. Harvard and several other universities conferred honourary degrees upon him, but he cared little for these things. From his travels abroad he returned to the Sierra Mountains which he loved so passionately. Several universities invited him to become professor, but he preferred to live his simple life among the mountains. After his death, in 1914, these beautiful lines were written about him by Odell Shepard: THE PRAYER OF JOHN MUIR. Let me sleep among the shadows of the mountain when I die, In the murmur of the pines and gliding streams, Where the long day loiters by Like a cloud across the sky, And the night is calm and musical with dreams. Lay me down within a canyon of the mountains, far away, In a valley filled with dim and rosy light; Let me hear the streams at play Through the vivid golden day, And a voice of many waters in the night. Let me lie where glinting rivers ramble down the slanting glade, Under bending alders, garrulous and cool, Where the sycamores have made Leafy shrines of shifting shade, Tremulous about the ferned and pebbled pool. CHAPTER XI. A SICK MAN WHO NEVER GAVE UP. Francis Parkman was born at Boston on September 16, 1823. He had a fairly good start in life. He lived in a fine large brick house of three stories, with good big lawns and lots of room, so that any boy could have a real good time. There were flowers and fruit trees in abundance, and no doubt young Francis thought himself a very lucky boy. When he was eight years of age he went to live on a farm with his grandfather, and remained there for nearly five years. It was during this time that he began to take a keen interest in nature. When not at school he spent most of his time collecting eggs, insects, reptiles, trapping squirrels, woodchucks, and other animals. All his life he was greatly interested in animals, and many good stories are told about him. Once when he was sitting at his desk in school a snake which had revived in the warmth of the schoolroom stuck its head out of his pocket, much to the consternation and alarm of some pupils sitting near. His father was a minister, and one Sunday morning while Rev. Dr. Parkman and his wife were walking solemnly down the street to church with Francis close behind, Mrs. Parkman noticed a smile on the faces of those they passed. She turned around to see what was the matter, and there was Francis carrying by the tail, at arm's length, a dead rat. His father made him throw away the rat and walk with more dignity.