(304 Anxals of the Carnegie Museum. 



warning Mr. Hatcher against the repetition of such risks as he at 

 that time assumed in attempting to handle a block of rock weighing 

 nearly a ton without the assistance of other men. 



While accomplishing a vast amount of most important work dur- 

 ing the last five or six years of his life, there was hardly any time 

 in which, as the result of the illness and exposure which he had 

 undergone in Patagonia, he did not suffer pain, and at times pain 

 of a most excruciating character, and yet he was patient and un- 

 complaining. Painstakingly exact, scrupulously honest, he could 

 not brook carelessness or departure from absolute truthfulness and 

 honesty in others. While full of kindness he was relentless in his 

 opposition to a few by whom he regarded himself as having been 

 deceived. 



Perhaps the most striking characteristic of Mr. Hatcher was his 

 extreme modesty. He was always reticent in speaking of what he 

 had done, and shunned publicity, other than that which came to 

 him through his scientific writings. The notoriety which is eagerly 

 courted by some so-called scientific men, and which is acquired by 

 them through a diligent cultivation of the columns of the daily 

 papers, he simply loathed, and he could not be induced, even 

 when urged to do so, to accord an interview to the ordinary repre- 

 sentatives of the press. Social life outside of the circle of his 

 home had little charm for him. He even declared himself as hap- 

 piest when far from men in lonely wilds and face to face with nature 

 in her sternest and grimmest moods. He was, while not a recluse 

 in the strict sense of the word, so deeply absorbed in his researches 

 and studies as to take but little pleasure in the ordinary round of 

 social enjoyments. Nevertheless, he was a most charming com- 

 panion, and when he could be prevailed upon to unbend and relate 

 the story of his adventures in strange and distant places, the lis- 

 tener found his companionship fascinating. 



Though living so much of his life in the wilderness, he was a 

 man of strong domestic attachments. He loved his home, and to 

 none of all the wide circle of his acquaintance does his untimely 

 death bring deeper and more poignant grief than to his wife and 

 four young children. To them the writer renews in these lines his 

 expression of the deepest sympathy. 



W. J. Holland. 



