100 Naturalist at Large 



as a lobster by the things he said about me. And my wife, 

 who was sitting in the front row before us buried in a 

 mass of tropical floral tributes, blushed as Don Carlos 

 recalled that the cannibals of New Guinea had said they 

 preferred to look at her, which was why she was not 

 eaten. 



Don Carlos finally sat down, and I rose for the em- 

 brace. I stepped forward and put my arms around the Rec- 

 tor and patted him three times on the back, according to 

 ancient usage. Well, when I did this he completely dis- 

 appeared, for I am distinctly outsize, being almost six feet 

 six in height, while the Rector was short even for a Cuban. 

 A voice from the gallery said in Spanish, "There goes 

 Cuba!" This was just about the time that the "Octopus 

 of the North" was disciplining Haiti and San Domingo, for 

 excellent reasons, and Cuba was inclined to take sides with 

 its neighbors. However, in a second the Rector was un- 

 folded and breathing again. I sat down, the biretta on my 

 head, and as I did so the sweep of my ample sleeve tipped 

 a gargantuan goblet of water into the lap of the Dean of 

 the Faculty of Sciences, who was sitting beside me. He was 

 extremely polite, but a little annoyed. I felt like an ass; 

 in reality it was the proudest day of my life — the first 

 really distinguished honor I ever received. 



Now the scene changes. I am back in Boston and it is 

 the Harvard Commencement season. On the Sunday eve- 

 ning before this event I sat in what was called the Sunday 

 School at the Somerset Club, a pleasant after-dinner gather- 

 ing. I was telling my friend Herbert Leeds about the Ha- 

 vana ceremony; I described the gown. This is of shiny, 



