trifling facts sink deeply into a child's mind and are never forgotten, whilst many important events pass entirely into oblivion.
When I was about four or five years of age, I was—as usual—-playing alone with some blocks of wood, building a tower if I remember rightly. In the same room, there was a young dressmaker, busy at one of my aunt's gowns. This girl—who must have been rather pretty—was about 18 or 19, for she was engaged at the time, and she married shortly afterwards. I remember the fact because she brought me a paper of comfits when the wedding took place.
Well—as I was playing, this dressmaker stopped in her work and looked at me. She was flushed, her eyes were sparkling, and her lips were very red.
"Come here," said she, "you are a good boy, are you not?"
"Yes," I replied indifferently. "Come then and give me a kiss; I am very fond of good little boys."
I looked at her, astonished.
"Come on," repeated she, with a husky
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