ABSTRACT
The first job I ever had was at Haskins Labs, washing test tubes for protozoologist Seymour Hutner. I also tried in vain for several months to culture Euglena Klebsii in the laboratory. After my desperate final attempt using chicken soup also ended in failure, I took a more lively interest in the strange sounds emanating from the floor below. What sort of people would endlessly drone, "These days a chicken leg is a rare dish," when countless chickens, each possessing two legs, were stacked high in local butcher shops and supermarkets?
