This essay contains the following memory of reading Wild Animals I Have Known as a child... (from nj.com)
Moving along the woodland path, I see a rotted tree stump. It is in the final stages of decay, provid ing a winter home for a hibernating ground hog and countless insect residents. That old stump once supported a huge Norway Maple. I recall Joyce Kilmer's classic poem as I pass by:
A tree that may in summer wear, a nest of robins in her hair ...
And indeed it did. I remember the boy who climbed up to its farthest limits, and in his curiosity, caused the limb to spill out four blue eggs. I remember how pangs of conscience pained him for his terrible deed; albeit an accident.
That old stump once supported the tree I used to sit under as I read "Wild Animals I Have Known" and many of the other wonderful wildlife stories of Ernest Thompson Seton.
Read it all at http://www.nj.com/living/times/community/index.ssf?/base/news-2/1168060142299560.xml&coll=5