I will admit there is something to be said on both sides of the
argument. This dissecting of live subjects may have been carried
to extremes on occasions. When I read in the medical journals
that the eminent Doctor Somebody succeeded in transferring the
interior department of a pelican to a pointer pup, and vice versa
with such success that the pup drowned while diving for minnows,
and the pelican went out in the back yard and barked himself to
death baying at the moon, I am interested naturally; but, possibly
because of my ignorance, I fail to see wherein the treatment of
infantile paralysis has been materially advanced. On the other
hand I would rather the kind and gentle Belgian hare should be
offered up as a sacrifice upon the operating table and leave behind
him a large family of little Belgian heirs and heiresses--dependent
upon the charity of a cruel world--than that I should have something
painful which can be avoided through making him a martyr. I would
rather any white rabbit on earth should have the Asiatic cholera
twice than that I should have it just once. These are my sincere
convictions, and I will not attempt to disguise them.

Thanks too, to medical science we know about germs and serums and
diets and all that. Our less fortunate ancestors didn't know about
them. They were befogged in ignorance. As recently as the generation
immediately preceding ours people were unacquainted with the simplest
rules of hygiene. They didn't care whether the housefly wiped his
feet before he came into the house or not. The gentleman with the
drooping, cream-separator mustache was at perfect liberty to use
the common drinking cup on the railroad train. The appendix lurked
in its snug retreat, undisturbed by the prying fingers of curiosity.
The fever-bearing skeeter buzzed and flitted, stinging where he