142 Naturalist at Large 



In the best tradition of all our museum people, John 

 traveled widely to collect, or for sport, but never had 

 an adventure. He went to the Blue Nile, to Kenya, to 

 Arabia Petraea, to Greenland and Mexico, often to the 

 Northwest and pretty much all over the United States. 

 He never wrote much about his travels. We all wish 

 that he had, for, during his later years, he developed 

 a highly characteristic and extraordinarily charming 

 style which came only after long practice and good 

 hard work, for John was not a natural-born writer. 

 His essays on New England field sports, the story of 

 the woodcock cover and the birch hillsides and 

 swamps where our New England ruffed grouse gather, 

 will Hve as long as men go gunning in the autumn. 



John was eight years older than I am and I have 

 looked up to him ever since I came to Boston as an 

 example to be admired but by no good fortune ever 

 to be equaled. He was so modest, so selfless and so ut- 

 terly courageous. I constantly felt — and I think many 

 of John's friends did — that he was made of a finer 

 clay than went into any of our make-ups. 



New England did one first-rate work when she pro- 

 duced him and I do not believe that any country any- 

 where has done better. He, of all our generation, stood 

 out as talented and versatile beyond us all. His thor- 

 ough medical training brought him to the command of 

 a field hospital of a Regular Army division during the 

 World War. I think the only time he ever spoke 

 sharply to me was when I once said "base hospital" 

 instead of "field hospital." His contributions to genet- 

 ics were timely and significant, for he worked in that 



