SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD
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also numerous short contributions to Forest and Stream, and the Chicago Field, relating to the popular phases of the fish work.
Baird's incessant labor at length began to tell upon his health. Unwilling to rest, he was finally informed by his medical adviser that complete relaxation was imperative, and he reluctantly accepted the decision. Professor Langley had taken charge of the Smithsonian, and the well-beloved and trusted Dr. Goode was caring for the National Museum; it seemed that the well-earned rest might be taken in peace. It was too late, however, and realizing that the end was near, he permitted himself to be taken to Wood's Holl, to the seaside laboratory of the Fish Commission. We may fitly close the story in the words of Major Powell:
For many long months he contemplated the day of parting. Labor that knew no rest, responsibility that was never lifted from his shoulders, too soon brought his life to an end. In the summer of the past year (1887) he returned to his work by the seaside, that he might die in its midst. There at Wood's Hole he had created the greatest biologic laboratory of the world; and in that laboratory, with the best results of his life-work all about him, he calmly and philosophically waited for the time of times. Three days before he died he asked to be placed in a chair provided with wheels. On this he was moved around the pier, past the vessels which he had built for research, and through the laboratory, where many men were at work at their biologic investigations. For every one he had a word of good cheer, though he knew it was the last. At the same time, along the pier and through the laboratory, a little child was wheeled. 'We are rivals,' he said, 'but I think that I am the bigger baby.' In this supreme hour he was playing with a child. Then he was carried to his chamber, where he soon became insensible and remained so until he was no more.
He died on August 19, 1887.
