Now 69, Sir Ronald was until recently Arthur Balfour Professor of Genetics at Cambridge. He became famous after World War I when he performed the herculean task of organizing 75 years of British agricultural statistics. The University of Chicago in awarding him an honorary degree called him one of the greatest figures in the history of scientific method. His comments on current controversies, like the relation of smoking and lung cancer (not proved, he says), are respectfully noted in the British press. But dog-lovers seem to have lost their voices over his prediction that dogs will talk. Nobody has provided a single serious comment. Nobody has ventured to suggest what people and dogs might discuss.
We don't like to see a promising and conceivably sporting discussion languish for want of encouragement, and we'd be willing to start things off with the idea that dogs and men have a lot of things to straighten out if they ever get to it. In the week's news, for instance, we note the conviction of a Long Island bloodhound fancier named A. Kent McClelland that bloodhounds have been maligned for generations as a bloodthirsty set, whereas they are actually, in McClelland's opinion, one of the friendliest and most people-loving of all dogs.
"If the bloodhounds had caught Eliza fleeing across the ice," says McClelland, "they would merely have licked her face."
What about it?
What does the catcher say to the pitcher?
"Come on, kid, we're all witcha."
What does the pitcher say to the catcher?
"I'm gonna fling this one right catcher."