You may also tell me a story of these other four (one, two, three, four). The book itself is scanned and just about to appear as a project at Distributed Proofreaders. Read more about it at Bookp(h)ile.
Tell me a story:
Karen Lofstrom said,
He seemed like such a “nice” man. Everyone’s favorite biology teacher, waxing fervent about the glories of the acorn. He took his classes on jolly nature hikes, where they collected flowers, seeds, leaves, insects, bird’s eggs, and then dined prodigiously on the fried chicken, biscuits, cake, and lemonade supplied by his plump Negro housekeeper.
Little did they know.
A secret door in his basement led to a small laboratory, full of devices still incomprehensible to mere mankind, where he analyzed DNA samples from his collections and then beamed the results to an orbiting satellite. The satellite then passed the information to the !sn## orbital laboratory, which regrew the specimens from DNA. A little mixing, a little matching, and sometimes viable commercial products resulted.
300 light years from here, miniature purple-furred humans make great PETS.
Tozier said,
Eventually, of course, they came to see what was on offer. What with the time dilation effects, and the lackadaisical assumptions they held about the predicted lifetimes of intelligent species, they were flummoxed — flat-out hornswoggled — when they actually arrived to sample the delicacies for themselves.
For Architeuthys sapiens, who were by that time thoroughly in charge of the planet Homo had flooded and burned, were formidable collectors in their own right.
But collectors of a different stripe entirely….
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