"Just look at your pretty little boots," said the nurse coaxingly, "auntie has hought then for you, and now they are yours."
It seemed as if she actually laid a stress on the words emphasized by the street boy, only to taunt me. I thereupon kicked my ligs veolently, for the boots had become obnoxious to me and I did not want to keep them on. In fact—since that time—I have not only disliked such boots, but even the people who wore them.
Althongh—after a few days—I managed to get over the loathsomeness I felt for life, still that trivial incident has never been forgotten.
Another fact that also impressed me at that time was the peculiar copulation of a dog and a bitch. I happened to be at the diningroom window when I witnessed the astounding sight.
Our house—as you know—overlooked a kind of yard, and as its inmates always afforded me great interest, I passed many hours of the day watching them.
It therefore happened, at the time I speak
112
