Alfred Russel Wallace 



self.) Ask him to make you anything — a little card box, 

 a wooden peg or bottle-stopper, and see if he makes them 

 neat, straight and square. Charles never does anything 

 the one or the other. Charles has now been with me more 

 than a year, and every day some such conversation as this 

 ensues : ^* Charles, look at these butterflies that you set out 

 yesterday." '^ Yes, sir." '^ Look at that one — is it set 

 out evenly ? " " No, sir." ^^ Put it right then, and all 

 the others that want it." In five minutes he brings me 

 the box to look at. '^ Have you put them all right ? " 

 ** Yes, sir." '^ There's one with the wings uneven, there's 

 another with the body on one side, then another with the 

 pin crooked. Put them all right this time." It most 

 frequently happens that they have to go back a third time. 

 Then all is right. If he puts up a bird, the head is on one 

 side, there is a great lump of cotton on one side of the 

 neck like a wen, the feet are twisted soles uppermost, or 

 something else. In everything it is the same, what ought 

 to be straight is always put crooked. This after twelve 

 months' constant practice and constant teaching ! And not 

 the slightest sign of improvement. I believe he never will 

 improve. Day after day I have to look over everything 

 he does and tell him of the same faults. Another with a 

 similar incapacity would drive me mad. He never, too, by 

 any chance, puts anything away after him. When done 

 with, everything is thrown on the floor. Every other day 

 an hour is lost looking for knife, scissors, pliers, hammer, 

 pins, or something he has mislaid. Yet out of doors he 

 does very well — he collects insects well, and if I could get 

 a neat, orderly person in the house I would keep him 

 almost entirely at out-of-door work and at skinning, which 

 he does also well, but cannot put into shape. . . . — Your 

 affectionate brother, Alfred R. Wallace. 



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