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Mar., 1919 ALBERT MILLS INGERSOLL—AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY 55 
good ‘‘eats’’, I dropped them into a teakettle to boil. The rapid ebullition 
burst the shells and liberated two disgusting embryos. These, on being poured 
into a pan by a servant, caused her to exclaim, ‘‘Mrs. Ingersoll! Mrs. Inger- 
soll! come out to the kitchen and see the horrid bugs J found in the hot water’”’. 
The sight of those big-eyed objects was not at all appetizing, and a gentle lec- 
ture from my mother was intended to teach me the error of robbing birds of 
their treasures. 
Generally taking up whatever fad was in vogue among my boy associates, 
various objects were collected in a desultory way during my youthful days. 
Recital of incidents in connection with some of them may not be out of place. 
My interest in postage stamps and coins was squelched by a few words from 
Prof. George Latura Smith. As near as I ean recollect, he said, ‘‘But why 
waste time by giving attention to such inanimate things when nature offers so 
much of greater interest? Anyone can purchase old stamps and coins, but 
money won’t buy the pleasure and satisfaction to be gained in the study, col- 
lecting and preparation of specimens of living things.’’ Beginning to realize 
that I was on the wrong track, a quick decision switched off two of my hobbies. 
My album of stamps was traded to a gentleman connected with the Ithaca glass 
works for a rowboat and for sheets of glass especially bent to magnify objects 
In an aquarium for aquatic plants and insects. 
My entomological efforts had heretofore lain in the accumulation of 
showy butterflies and moths, taken principally through a selfish desire to outdo 
the other boys. Seeing my error, I resolved to learn everything possible in re- 
gard to the lives of these beautiful creations of nature, and also of insects in 
general. Various insects were successfully raised in breeding cages provided 
with earth or water for the growing of plants suitable for the larvae of the 
various species to live on. Prying into the habits of some nocturnal insects 
necessitated night work, but as these investigations were carried on previous 
to the era of electric lights, I found the gaining of knowledge by aid of a dark 
Jantern and oil lamp too injurious to my eyes to be continued. My enthusiasm 
in this wonderfully interesting study had been aroused to a degree that made 
the mere collecting of specimens impracticable. Circumstances, as indicated, 
turned my attention to larger objects. 
Capturing a ferocious coon at a despoiled wood duck’s nest, I decided he 
should form the nucleus of a menagerie that had been in contemplation since 
the latest visit of ‘‘the largest show on earth’’. Several Ithaca boys started 
menageries during, that particular period, and rivalry amongst us was at a 
high pitch, when Velvet, my seven-toed cat, ‘‘did her bit’? by furnishing a 
ereater attraction than any of my competitors could boast of. By drowning, 
lier numerous litters of kittens were invariably reduced to two. On one ocea- 
sion, after half of her day-old kittens had been fed to my captive great horned 
owls, I chanced to find a red squirrel’s nest with young as small as mice, with 
hairless tails and unopened eyes. They were the homeliest animals imagin- 
able. The mother was shot, and wishing to raise two of the young ones to ma- 
turity, they were taken home and substituted for Velvet’s destroyed kittens. 
The cat resented the imposition at first; but on being shown the dead mother, 
she seemed to sense that it was her duty to foster the orphans. From then on, 
she was as solicitous for their comfort as for that of her own‘kittens. Later, 
on taking a squirrel and kitten away from her and placing them on the floor, 
Velvet jumped out, caught the squirrel by its neck, and carried it to her bas- 
