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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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