I don't want to change the subject too abruptly, but you remember Uncle William, don't you?
Well, once upon a time, Uncle Bill was clear daffy on the subject of mosquitoes.
He invented more kerosene tablets to poison 'em and set more traps to catch 'em than any pest-remover in the business.
I must tell you about the time he was one of a committee of three appointed by Budweiser College or Anheuser University, or some such concern, to study the mosquito at close range in its native jungles.
The committee consisted of Professor Kenneth Glueface, Professor Oscar Soupnoodle, a German gentleman with thistles in his conversation, and my Uncle, Mr. William Gray.
The committee decided that the best way to study the New Jersey mosquito would be to live in their gloomy haunts and forsake civilization for the time being.
In accordance with this idea they had the Carnegie Steel Company build for them a steel cage, which was placed in the depths of the Hackensack jungles, and thither they went.
Dr. Soupnoodle was of the opinion that a Jersey mosquito has a language, and the other two members of the committee agreed to help him to settle this point.
"My idea is," said Dr. Soupnoodle, "dot der beasts haf a speech vich dey use, uddervise how can dey find our fairst families in der blue book und go after deir blue blood?"
"Do you hold, Doctor, that the mosquito speaks with a guttural inflection on the vowels?" inquired Uncle William.