1 8773 In Irving ton 



In the fall of 1876, renting a fine large house left 

 stranded by the collapse of a recent boom, I moved 

 to Irvington, where my daughter Edith was born. 

 The aquaria I left with Copeland, but we still 

 carried on joint work in other lines. With the year 

 1876, however, our collaboration ended, for on the 

 first of January, 1877, Copeland fell into the White Cope- 

 River and died shortly afterward from resultant ' an f' J 



T->I f IT i death 



exposure. Thus out of my life passed my most 

 intimate early friend, and one of the brightest 

 minds with which I was ever associated. His rare 

 intellectual quality I have already described in 

 pages which deal with my college experiences. 



The position left vacant by Copeland's death was 

 filled by our college mate, Brayton, who afterward 

 took up the practice of medicine and has now for 

 many years held the professorship of Dermatology 

 in the Indiana Medical College. This institution Indiana 

 was originally a branch of the State University; 

 but in the '6o's the connection became purely nominal, 

 as the state legislature voted to discontinue both 

 its medical and law schools, asserting it to be "no 

 duty of the people to help men into these easy 

 professions." And in 1875 the relation, so far as 

 medicine was concerned, was entirely broken to 

 be resumed, however, on a large scale in 1912, when 

 the Medical College was reestablished on the modern 

 basis of a teaching faculty. 



While engaged with my work in the Indianapolis 

 High School I was also able to spend some time in 

 the Medical College, from which, in the spring of 



C i4S 3 



