CHAPTER XVI HOW ZOOLOGISTS DO THEIR WORK It is one of the most well-worn of commonplace sayings, that "one half the world does not know how the other half lives." It is equally true that one half the world does not know how the other half works; and especially is this the case when one of the world's halves is its learned, and the other its unlearned, half. The average business man probably has an idea that the man of learning has a pretty easy time of it, and that his most arduous occupation is to enlighten an attentive world by reading papers at the meetings of the British Association and the Royal Society. He has a vague idea that the man of learning sometimes uses midnight oil, but it would surprise him to be informed that the man of learning often sets to work at five o'clock in the morning--as is actually the case. And well he may, considering the magnitude of the task he has in hand, and the variety of the odds and ends of labour that it includes. _Firstly_, how does he obtain the raw material for his work? The scientist, like the cook, must "first catch his hare" before any further details of work can be arranged. He does not, as a rule, do this in person, except when an animal of unusual interest is concerned. An army of collectors, all the world over, are constantly busy in searching for material for the zoologists, on land and sea. They look for employment and pay to the museums and laboratories of the learned world. When the specimens arrive, what is to be done with them? Some arrive alive, and may be dismissed from present consideration. The dead specimens give employment to a number of workers who are under the command of the man of learning. There are skins to be mounted and stuffed, bones to be articulated and set up, each practically the work of a different trade. There are drawings to be made of all important specimens, a task which affords employment for the artist and the photographer. There are carcases large and small, to be immersed in preservative fluids until they can be thoroughly examined in detail. And woe betide the zoologist who allows any of these tasks to be performed without his own personal supervision. He will realise, as all careless masters do, that blunders may be made in an hour, which cannot be repaired in a day. But when all is done that servants and helpers can accomplish, the real business remains to be done. Is there among the specimens one which has not been thoroughly overhauled by other writers, one whose every detail of structure is not already to be found printed in a book? That one must be examined with the utmost accuracy. If it is big enough, it must be dissected, and every part recorded and figured in diagrams. But suppose it is a small creature, whose parts can only be seen under the microscope, a long series of processes are necessary before it is ready for use. In its fresh state, it contains a quantity of water, and if left to itself would shortly decompose.