154 THE AMERICAN NATURALIST. (VoL. XXXII. 
“When do you wish to begin?” he asked. 
« Now,” I replied. 
This seemed to please him, and, with an energetic “ very well,” he reached 
from a shelf a huge jar of specimens in yellow alcohol. 
“« Take this fish,” said he, “and look at it; we call it a Hæmulon. By 
and by I will ask you what you have seen.” 
With that he left me, but in a moment returned with explicit instructions 
as to the care of the object intrusted to me. ‘ No man is fit to be a natu- 
ralist,” said he, “who does not know how to take care of specimens.” 
Entomology was a cleaner science than ichthyology, but the example of the 
professor, who had unhesitatingly plunged to the bottom of the jar to pro- 
duce the fish, was infectious; and though this alcohol had a very ancient 
and fish-like smell, I really dared not show any aversion within these sacred 
precincts, and treated the alcohol as though it were pure water.... In 
ten minutes I had seen all that could be seen in that fish... . Half an 
hour passed, an hour, another hour; the fish began to look loathsome. I 
turned it over and around ; looked it in the face — ghastly! From behind, 
beneath, above, sideways, at a three-quarters view — just as ghastly! I 
was in despair. At an early hour I concluded that lunch was necessary ; 
so, with infinite relief, the fish was carefully replaced in the jar, and for an 
hour I was free. 
Slowly I drew forth that hideous fish, and, with a feeling of desperation, 
again looked at it. I might not use a magnifying glass; instruments of all 
kinds were interdicted. My two hands, my two eyes, and the fish, —it 
seemed a most limited field. . . . At last a happy thought struck me, — I 
would draw the fish ; and now, with surprise, I began to discover new fea- 
tures in the creature. Just then the professor returned. 
“That is right,” said he; “a pencil is one of the best eyes. I am 
glad to notice, too, that you keep your specimen wet and your bottle 
corked.” With these encouraging words, he added: “ Well, what is it 
like?” 
` He listened attentively to my brief rehearsal of the structure of parts 
whose names were still unknown to me. ... When I had finished, he 
waited, as if expecting more, and then, with an air of disappointment, 
« You have not looked very carefully. Why,” he continued most earnestly, 
« you have n’t even seen one of the most conspicuous features of the animal, 
which is as plainly before your eyes as the fish itself. Look again! look 
again !” and he left me to my misery. 
I was piqued; I was mortified. Still more of that wretched fish! But 
now I set myself to my task with a will, and discovered one new thing after 
another, until I saw how just the professor’s criticism had been. The 
afternoon passed quickly, and when toward its close the professor inquired, 
“ Do you see it yet?” 
« No,” I replied, “ I am certain I do not; but I see how little I saw before.” 
“ That is next best,” said he earnestly; “ but I won’t hear you now. Put 
