Georges Pouchet, the ichthyologist, used to come to the Vivier in Concarneau to study the fish forms. He was a friend of Pasteur, and they were studying mammals as a basis for the investigation of the human body. I lunched with him in his bachelor lodgings during the Salon every year. He had an original way of entertaining. The invitations were always written and very formal. I was always received by the same manservant; lunched with him alone and upon the same menu. We had but one dish. The servant brought in a bowl fully two feet across, full of écrevisses; then bread, wine, and a basin with a towel and fresh water. He said it was necessary to wash while eating these shellfish. Of course we finished off with coffee and a smoke.
Pouchet was an intimate friend of Alfred de Musset and told me much about him. The poet had many fads inherited from the days of swords, pistols, snuff, and powdered hair. For instance, he would under no circumstances accept copper money; in fact, he would not touch the metal in any form. Toward the end of Musset’s life he frequented a certain café in Paris—used it as a club. He would go there to write his letters, read his paper, etc., and with him would be a quiet man in plain clothing whom you would not notice. At a certain time in the evening he would make a gesture to the waiter, who would serve him with two carafons—one of brandy and one of absinthe. He would pour them together in one glass and, looking at them, take out of his buttonhole his button of General of the Legion of Honor, and put it in his waistcoat. He would then down the mixture at once; the quiet man would approach and take him to his carriage. No one but a Frenchman could have done this; he would not get drunk as a member of the Legion!
Sitting one time with Pouchet and a well-known authoress, discussing sex, he said:
“You make a mistake, mademoiselle, there are four sexes. Male—Mr. Simmons; female—your charming self; neuter”—pointing to a stuffy judge way down the room; “and potentially male or female. This sex can be recognized by the human hair. It is long in the men and short in the women. Let us call it the professorial sex.” Women’s rights, divorce laws, etc., were then unknown in France, so this was quite an advanced idea.
The last time I saw Pouchet was in New York. He was about sixty-three years old. We were lunching at the Players and I asked:
“What brings you to America?”
“To study the question of tonsils.”
“Are American tonsils different from European?” I asked.
“Oh no! We are interested in the tonsils of other mammals—of the whale.”
Just before he went back to France I asked him what conclusion his investigation had brought forth.