Medicine: The Gold-Headed Cane

A tall, active man as heavy with honors as with years (82) lolled in a wrought-iron chair on the breezeway of an apartment in Naples, Fla. last week and fiddled with a 10½-ft. cane fishing rod. Peering through the thick glasses he has needed since an operation last year for cataracts, he fussed with the black and yellow flies' that he had tied himself. He ruminated for a moment, then said: "I'm glad I won't be there. It would be embarrassing."

By "there" he meant the Chicago meeting of the American Association of Pathologists...

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