traction to good housewives: birds' nests, feathers,
skins, claws, fungi, leaves, flowers, roots, stalks, rocks, sticks and
stones--and when one meddled with his treasures, there was trouble. And
there was always trouble; for the boy possessed a temper, and usually
had it right with him.

The intent of the parents was that Carl should become a clergyman, but
his distaste for theology did not go unexpressed. So perverse and
persistent were his inclinations that they preyed on the mind of his
father, who quoted King Lear and said, "How sharper than a serpent's
tooth it is to have a thankless child!"

His troubles weighed so upon the good clergyman that his nerves became
affected and he went to the neighboring town of Wexio to consult Doctor
Rothman, a famed medical expert.

The good clergyman, in the course of his conversation with the doctor,
told of his mortification on account of the dulness and perversity of
his son.

Doctor Rothman listened in patience and came to the conclusion that
young Mr. Linnaeus was a good boy who did the wrong thing. All energy is
God's, but it may be misdirected. A boy not good enough for a preacher
might make a good doctor--an excess of virtue is not required in the
recipe for a physician.

"I'll cure you, by taking charge of your boy," said Rothman; "you want
to make a clergyman of the youth: I'll let him be just what he wants to
be, a naturalist and a physician." And it was so.

* * * * *

The year spent by Linnaeus under the roof of Doctor Rothman was a pivotal
point in his life. He was eighteen years old. The contempt of Rothman
for the refinements of education appealed to the young man. Rothman was
blunt, direct, and to the point: he had a theory that people grew by
doing what they wanted to do, not by resisting their impulses.

He was both friend and comrade to the boy. They rode together, dissected
animals and plants, and the young man assisted in operations. Linnaeus
had the run of the Doctor's library, and without knowing it, was
mastering physiology.

"I would adopt him as my son," said Rothman; "but I love him so much
that I am going to separate him from me. My roots have struck deep in
the soil: I am like the human trees told of by Dante; but the boy can go
on!"

And so Rothman sent him along to the University of Lund, with letters to
another doctor still more cranky than himself. This man was Doctor
Kilian Stobaeus, a medical professo