THE STORY OF AN ENTOMOLOGIST 



a word or two about my own impressions o£ New Orleans 

 during that fateful year. I returned from Europe in early August, 

 and almost the first news that met me at New York was that 

 the yellow fever situation in New Orleans was very serious and 

 that many people had died of the disease, among them my old 

 friend. Archbishop Chapelle. I was anxious to go down there 

 as speedily as possible, but I found many things to attend to 

 in Washington, so my departure was somewhat delayed. I had 

 some work to do in Texas in regard to the Cotton Boll Weevil 

 situation, and knew that if I went to New Orleans first, Texas 

 quarantines would greatly postpone my entrance into that State. 

 So I went to Texas first by way of St. Louis and the so-called 

 Katy Railroad, and it must have been late in October or early 

 in November before I arrived in New Orleans. By that time 

 the emergency was past and the last case of yellow fever had 

 been discovered. The city was recovering from its fright, and 

 a feeling of great optimism prevailed. As I was registering at 

 the St. Charles Hotel, I remarked cheerfully to the clerk, "Are 

 there any mosquitoes about?" He said, "No, we killed the last 

 one some time ago." Just at that moment unfortunately I 

 looked at my left hand and there was an undoubted yellow 

 fever mosquito quite ready to puncture me. 



This reminds me of an interesting thing that occurred while 

 I was still in Texas. I arrived at San Antonio late one night 

 and went to my old hotel, the Menger, only to find that there 

 was a big convention in town and that all of the rooms were 

 occupied. The room clerk, an old acquaintance, said that he 

 could give me a cot in a room with three other men. I accepted 

 and went up with my luggage. As I was preparing for bed 

 (there being no one else in the room at the time), I heard 

 footsteps in the hall, the door opened and in came the other 



[129] 



