In ten minutes I had seen all that could be seen in that fish, and
started in search of the Professor--who had, however, left the Museum;
and when I returned, after lingering over some of the odd animals
stored in the upper apartment, my specimen was dry all over. I dashed
the fluid over the fish as if to resuscitate the beast from a fainting
-fit, and looked with anxiety for a return of the normal sloppy
appearance. This little excitement over, nothing was to be done but to
return to a steadfast gaze at my mute companion. 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.

On my return, I learned that Professor Agassiz had been at the Museum,
but had gone, and would not return for several hours. My fellow-students
were too busy to be disturbed by continued conversation. 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. I pushed my finger down its throat to feel how sharp the
teeth were. I began to count the scales in the different rows, until I
was convinced that that was nonsense. At last a happy thought struck me
--I would draw the fish; and now with surprise I began to discover new
features in the creature. Just then the Professor returned.

'That is right,' said he; 'a pencil is one of the best of eyes. I am
glad to notice, too, that you keep your specimen wet, and your bottle