ready, they occupied a little house on William Street near the present site 

 of the University Press. This little house they dubbed "la Casita" and 

 had their letterpaper stamped with that name. The irrepressible Ord 

 received a dinner invitation on this paper and addressed his reply to 

 "Mrs. H. F. O., la Casita, in the Backstreeta," which was appreciated 

 by no one more highly than by the victims of the jest. 



After the Christmas vacation, my labours greatly increased, not only 

 with more lectures, but other interesting occupations as well. In the 

 first place, there was an informal little gathering, every Friday evening, 

 in the zoological laboratory, which we called the Wundt Club. Sloane, 

 Marquand, Libbey, Osborn and I met to read and discuss Wundt's 

 Physiologische Psychologic and, when advisable, Osborn and I would 

 give demonstrations of the brain and nervous system, with some of 

 the simpler physiological experiments. Dr. McCosh, after courteously 

 asking permission, attended several times and became so interested that 

 he insisted that Osborn and I should give an undergraduate course in 

 physiological psychology, Osborn to take up the anatomical and I the 

 physiological part. I was most unwilling to go so far afield out of my 

 own proper bailiwick, to say nothing of the increase in classroom work, 

 for which I had not bargained. However, we could not resist the old gen- 

 tleman's importunities and began to give the course in the autumn of 

 1882 and kept it up for several years, until the appointment of J. Mark 

 Baldwin relieved us. 



I had to be a good deal with Dr. McCosh that spring and gradually 

 developed a warm affection for him; admiration for him as a great man, 

 I had always had, but I was too much in awe of him, until he "gave 

 himself away" to me so completely in my graduate year. From that time 

 on, the more I saw of him, the more attached to him I became. He was 

 a staunch and loyal friend and, while he might scold and abuse you 

 himself, he would allow no one else to do so, and he was wonderfully 

 free from every form of littleness. If he thought a man competent for a 

 position, he would recommend him for it and help him get it, even 

 though he knew that that man had vilified him unmercifully. His na- 

 ture was on too large lines to be affected by such petty, personal con- 

 siderations. 



I shall never forget a scene in Dr. McCosh's library in the spring 

 of 1882, when Osborn and I were calling on him with reference to 

 some matter of business. The talk turned to the literary celebrities whom 

 he had known in Scotland and he was telling us about De Quincey and 

 his strange behaviour, when under the influence of opium. Suddenly 



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