INVENTIONS AND WARFARE 169 
brains. I was keen to do something, but there popped 
into my head an old unfortunate phrase that had long 
held lodgment there. ‘‘Nothing but a taxidermist.” 
That was the sentiment of an editorial published in 
the Youth’s Companion, a magazine which was almost 
my Bible, some fifty years ago. As a youngster I 
always had to combat the feeling that taxidermy was 
of no importance, both on my own part, when I was 
not completely lost in the joy of my work, and also 
on the part of those about me. But, inasmuch as it 
had been the advertisements of books on taxidermy 
in the Companion that had given me my first encour- 
agement, I felt a particular resentment toward a 
magazine which would so betray its advertisers and 
its readers. 
My conviction that museum exhibition is playing 
an important part in modern education has long since 
satisfied me that the work which I have chosen as 
mine is worth while, but all through my experiences 
at Ward’s and in Milwaukee the doubt persisted. 
Was I not wasting my life on something that did not 
count? And, needless to say, my own doubt was 
deepened by the indifference of oth€rs. 
With the war came the cessation of all normal life. 
An occupation popularly considered as unessential as 
mine ought to stop among the first. Anyway, I had 
to get intoit. The only way to be happy was to get 
into it, but there was something rather ridiculous 
about the idea that an African naturalist and a “good- 
for-nothing taxidermist” could be of much service 
‘n wartime. At first it did not strike me—or any one 
