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Once when I was in Ann Arbor
with Alexander Smith,
I said that one of
the things I liked about botany
was that it was free
of the jealousies and selfish
feelings that plague the arts,
that I would for
that reason, if
for no other,
given my life to live over
again, be a
botanist rather than a musician.
He said,
“That shows how
little you know about botany.”
Later in the
conversation I happened to
mention the name of a mycologist
connected with another Midwestern
university.
Incisively, Smith said,
“Don’t mention that
man’s name in my house.”
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