THE STORY OF AN ENTOMOLOGIST 



in Georgetown. As I was leaving, he shook hands with me in 

 his delightful way and said, "You ought to come to my Wednes- 

 day evenings. I will send you a card to remind you." 



And so, for more than twenty years, a card would come late 

 every autumn: "At home Wednesday evenings." It was always 

 a matter of doubt with me and with others as to how often we 

 should go. Some men, I believe, thought they ought to go every 

 week; some, every other week, while others considered once a 

 month or twice a year appropriate. Occasionally, Dr. Bell would 

 stir up some of us with a second card. 



But, however the invitations were interpreted, we all wanted 

 to go every Wednesday evening. At first the attendance was not 

 large. We could be seated very comfortably in the big parlor of 

 the Connecticut Avenue home. But later an extension was added 

 to the south, giving a beautiful room that could be used as a 

 large music-room, or a small lecture hall. Then more people 

 came, and the discussions often assumed a wider range and were 

 of greater importance. I think I must have been there several 

 times every winter. The parallel with the Sultan's forty wives 

 was almost perfect, for every experience seemed more beautiful 

 than the rest. In the series, all sorts of things were discussed, 

 and every subject brought up was usually threshed out by some- 

 one who knew all about it. 



Dr. Bell would say, "Dr. Blank, we haven't heard from you 

 for a long time. Will you tell us what you are doing these 

 days?" And then Dr. Blank would tell us of the ideas that were 

 filling his mind during his productive hours just then. Many a 

 time the Graham Bell group heard great ideas, wonderful infer- 

 ences and startling conclusions long before they were given to 

 the rest of the world. 



Nothing was ever said about the desirability of not repeating 

 certain things that were told — probably because that was unnec- 



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