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State of Massachusetts。 The consequence is； that there is more
individuality of character than in a good many similar
boardinghouses； where all are business…men； engrossed in the same
pursuit of money…making； or all are engaged in politics； and so
deeply occupied with the welfare of the community that they can think
and talk of little else。
At my left hand sits as singular…looking a human being as I remember
seeing outside of a regular museum or tent…show。 His black coat
shines as if it had been polished； and it has been polished on the
wearer's back； no doubt； for the arms and other points of maximum
attrition are particularly smooth and bright。 Round shoulders；
stooping over some minute labor； I suppose。 Very slender limbs； with
bends like a grasshopper's； sits a great deal； I presume； looks as if
he might straighten them out all of a sudden； and jump instead of
walking。 Wears goggles very commonly； says it rests his eyes； which
he strains in looking at very small objects。 Voice has a dry creak；
as if made by some small piece of mechanism that wanted oiling。 I
don't think he is a botanist； for he does not smell of dried herbs；
but carries a camphorated atmosphere about with him； as if to keep
the moths from attacking him。 I must find out what is his particular
interest。 One ought to know something about his immediate neighbors
at the table。 This is what I said to myself； before opening a
conversation with him。 Everybody in our ward of the city was in a
great stir about a certain election； and I thought I might as well
begin with that as anything。
How do you think the vote is likely to go tomorrow？I said。
It isn't to…morrow；he answered；it 's next month。
Next month！said I。…Why； what election do you mean？
I mean the election to the Presidency of the Entomological Society；
sir；he creaked； with an air of surprise； as if nobody could by any
possibility have been thinking of any other。 Great competition； sir；
between the dipterists and the lepidopterists as to which shall get
in their candidate。 Several close ballotings already； adjourned for
a fortnight。 Poor concerns； both of 'em。 Wait till our turn comes。
I suppose you are an entomologist？I said with a note of
interrogation。
…Not quite so ambitious as that； sir。 I should like to put my eyes
on the individual entitled to that name！ A society may call itself
an Entomological Society； but the man who arrogates such a broad
title as that to himself； in the present state of science； is a
pretender； sir； a dilettante； an impostor！ No man can be truly
called an entomologist； sir； the subject is too vast for any single
human intelligence to grasp。
May I venture to ask；I said； a little awed by his statement and
manner；what is your special province of study？
I am often spoken of as a Coleopterist；he said；but I have no
right to so comprehensive a name。 The genus Scarabaeus is what I
have chiefly confined myself to； and ought to have studied
exclusively。 The beetles proper ；are quite enough for the labor of
one man's life。 Call me a Scarabaeist if you will； if I can prove
myself worthy of that name； my highest ambition will be more than
satisfied。
I think； by way of compromise and convenience； I shall call him the
Scarabee。 He has come to look wonderfully like those creatures；the
beetles； I mean；…by being so much among them。 His room is hung
round with cases of them； each impaled on a pin driven through him；
something as they used to bury suicides。 These cases take the place
for him of pictures and all other ornaments。 That Boy steals into
his room sometimes； and stares at them with great admiration； and has
himself undertaken to form a rival cabinet； chiefly consisting of
flies； so far； arranged in ranks superintended by an occasional
spider。
The old Master； who is a bachelor； has a kindly feeling for this
little monkey； and those of his kind。
I like children；he said to me one day at table；I like 'em； and
I respect 'em。 Pretty much all the honest truth…telling there is in
the world is done by them。 Do you know they play the part in the
household which the king's jester； who very often had a mighty long
head under his cap and bells； used to play for a monarch？ There 's
no radical club like a nest of little folks in a nursery。 Did you
ever watch a baby's fingers？ I have； often enough； though I never
knew what it was to own one。…The Master paused half a minute or
so；sighed；perhaps at thinking what he had missed in life；looked
up at me a little vacantly。 I saw what was the matter； he had lost
the thread of his talk。
Baby's fingers；I intercalated。
…Yes； yes； did you ever see how they will poke those wonderful little
fingers of theirs into every fold and crack and crevice they can get
at？ That is their first education； feeling their way into the solid
facts of the material world。 When they begin to talk it is the same
thing over again in another shape。 If there is a crack or a flaw in
your answer to their confounded shoulder…hitting questions； they will
poke and poke until they have got it gaping just as the baby's
fingers have made a rent out of that atom of a hole in his pinafore
that your old eyes never took notice of。 Then they make such fools
of us by copying on a small scale what we do in the grand manner。 I
wonder if it ever occurs to our dried…up neighbor there to ask
himself whether That Boy's collection of flies is n't about as
significant in the Order of Things as his own Museum of Beetles？
I couldn't help thinking that perhaps That Boy's questions about
the simpler mysteries of life might have a good deal of the same kind
of significance as the Master's inquiries into the Order of Things。
On my left； beyond my next neighbor the Scarabee； at the end of the
table； sits a person of whom we know little； except that he carries
about him more palpable reminiscences of tobacco and the allied
sources of comfort than a very sensitive organization might find
acceptable。 The Master does not seem to like him much； for some
reason or other；perhaps he has a special aversion to the odor of
tobacco。 As his forefinger shows a little too distinctly that he
uses a pen； I shall compliment him by calling him the Man of Letters；
until I find out more about him。
The Young Girl who sits on my right； next beyond the Master； can
hardly be more than nineteen or twenty years old。 I wish I could
paint her so as to interest others as much as she does me。 But she
has not a profusion of sunny tresses wreathing a neck of alabaster；
and a cheek where the rose and the lily are trying to settle their
old quarrel with alternating victory。 Her hair is brown； her cheek
is delicately pallid； her forehead is too ample for a ball…room
beauty's。 A single faint line between the eyebrows is the record of
longcontinued anxious efforts to please in the task she has chosen；
or rather which has been forced upon her。 It is the same line of
anxious and conscientious effort which I saw not long since on the
forehead of one of the sweetest and truest singers who has visited
us； the same which is so striking on the masks of singing women
painted upon th