My father said, “Just go off and find something to do.  Find a fossil.  Push off!”  So, I pushed off.  I wasn’t usually encouraged in this way and had a little brush and a dental pick. I didn’t go very far, and funnily enough I found a bone washing out on the ground.  I had been told to dig it up.  So, I started picking away at it and got quite intrigued because the bone went on into the ground, brushed away a little more dirt and picked away a few more cobbles, and a tooth appeared. Pushed on a little bit more, and another tooth appeared, and it really became quite absorbing for a five-year-old.  So, I forgot all about lunch and the flies and was happily poking away at my little bone, when a shadow sort of fell over me, and they said, “What have you got there?” I said, “Well, it’s a bone.  Look, it’s got teeth, and it’s going on.  There’s more of it,” and they said, “Oh.  Why don’t you move off?  Find another.  We’ll take this one over.” And I said, “Well, at least we go to lunch.”  “No.  Lunch will wait now because we want to see what you found.” So, I sort of got into worse trouble. Lost my bone, lost an early lunch, lost a swim in the lake, and thought, “Damn it! That’s no way to live,” and I sort of got very negative about paleontology from that day on.