Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent
picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature,
about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa
constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here
is a copy of the drawing.
In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their
prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are
not able to move, and they sleep through the six
months that they need for digestion."
I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the
jungle. And after some work with a coloured pencil I
succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing.
I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked
them whether the drawing frightened them.
But they answered: "Frighten? Why should any one
be frightened by a hat?"
My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a
picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant.
But since the grown-ups were not able to understand
it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of the
boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it
clearly. They always need to have things explained.
The grown-ups' response, this time, was to advise me
to lay aside my drawings of boa constrictors, whether
from the inside or the outside, and devote myself
instead to geography, history, arithmetic and
grammar. That is why, at the age of six, I gave up
what might have been a magnificent career as a
painter. I had been disheartened by the failure of my
Drawing Number One and my Drawing Number
Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by
themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be
always and forever explaining things to them.
So then I chose another profession, and learned to
pilot airplanes. I have flown a little over all parts of
the world; and it is true that geography has been very
useful to me. At a glance I can distinguish China
from Arizona. If one gets lost in the night, such
knowledge is valuable.
In the course of this life I have had a great many
encounters with a great many people who have been
concerned with matters of consequence. I have lived
a great deal among grown-ups. I have seen them
intimately, close at hand. And that hasn't much
improved my opinion of them.
Whenever I met one of them who seemed to me at all
clear-sighted, I tried the experiment of showing him
my Drawing Number One, which I have always kept.
I would try to find out, so, if this was a person of true
understanding. But, whoever it was, he, or she,
would always say: "That is a hat."
Then I would never talk to that person about boa
constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars. I wouldbring myself down to his level. I would talk to him
about bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties.
And the grown-up would be greatly pleased to have
met such a sensible man.