210 Naturalist at Large 



heard Ridley's name, but yet the development of Malayan 

 rubber owes more to him than to any other man. 



Chattincr once with Mr. Lowell in the President's office 

 a few years ago, after we had been talking about some of 

 the pecuUarities of my older colleagues, I said to him, "Why 

 doesn't the present generation produce any of the curious 

 figures that stalked across the Harvard stage a generation 

 ago?" He turned and, with his charming and whimsical 

 smile, said, "Buy a mirror." 



While I received my Bachelor's and Master's degree at 

 the hands of President EHot, I received my Doctor's degree 

 the first year that Mr. Lowell presided at Commencement. 

 I had already become connected with the Museum at Har- 

 vard in a modest way, so that I served Mr. Lowell during 

 the entire time of his presidency, a fact which I look back 

 upon with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction, for no one 

 ever served a more worthy master. 



I remember the day before he was to be inaugurated. 

 We walked together across the Yard. He stood for a 

 moment near Massachusetts Hall and surveyed the sea of 

 seats which had been set up for the benefit of spectators 

 on the morrow. He remarked, "It's hard for me to believe 

 that so many people should want to come to see that show 

 tomorrow." I rephed, "Mr. Lowell, if there were a gallows 

 set up in the Yard and you were to be hanged on it, there 

 would be five times as many people who would want to be 

 here." He replied, "I guess you're right." Now this is not 

 a very touching story, but the point is that Mr. Lowell 

 was sufficiently humble-minded not to take offense, to 



