In Winter Quarters 



There goes a nursemaid with a little 

 girl by her side and a toy dog trying to 

 act like a real one. Of course he can't. 

 But that is not his fault. He was bred 

 that shape and can't help himself any 

 more than I can change the convolu- 

 tions of the cerebrum and cerebellum 

 which several million different individ- 

 uals conspired to hand to me. You see 

 we are all in the same boat. There is 

 no escaping some things. Each man, 

 each Dachshund, "cootie" or canary 

 is but an unwilling composite of a 

 couple of billion other creatures gone 

 before, having had no more to do with 

 the mixing of his own ingredients than 

 Beethoven had to do with the model- 

 ling of that bust on the pedestal 

 yonder that bears his name. The bust 

 has certain great advantages, however, 

 over the rest of us. For one thing it 

 doesn't have to sit through the grue- 

 some glories of the "Goetterdam- 

 merung," but gets real thunder and 

 the lightning's brilliant play from 

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