PROFESSOR SCUDDER 



thusiastically — as he always did — upon the 

 importance of this point, I ventured to ask 

 what I should do next. 



'Oh, look at your fish!' he said, and left me 

 again to my own devices. In a little more than 

 an hour he returned, and heard my new cat- 

 alogue. 



'That is good, that is good!' he repeated; 

 'but that is not all; go on;' and so for three 

 long days he placed that fish before my eyes, 

 forbidding me to look at anything else, or to 

 use any artificial aid. . 'Look, look, look,' was 

 his repeated injunction. 



This was the best entomological lesson I 

 ever had — a lesson whose influence has ex- 

 tended to the details of every subsequent 

 study; a legacy the Professor has left to me, 

 as he has left it to many others, of inestimable 

 value, which we could not buy, with which we 

 cannot part. • 



A year afterward, some of us were amusing 

 ourselves with chalking outlandish beasts on 

 the Museum blackboard. We drew prancing 

 starfishes; frogs in mortal combat; hydra- 

 headed worms; stately crawfishes, standing on 



[46] 



