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from the wine-soaked bread upon which she had breakfasted. Themother, with the gentle courtesy of a south Italian, listened politely to

her graphic portrayal of the untimely end awaiting so immature a winebibber; but long before the lecture was finished, quite unconscious ofthe incongruity, she hospitably set forth her best wines, and when herbaffled guest refused one after the other, she disappeared, only to

quickly return with a small dark glass of whisky, saying reassuringly,

"See, I have brought you the true American drink." The recital endedin seriocomic despair, with the rueful statement that "the impression I probably made upon her darkened mind was, that it is the Americancustom to breakfast children on bread soaked in whisky instead of light

Italian wine."

That first kindergarten was a constant source of education to us. Wewere much surprised to find social distinctions even among its lambs,

although greatly amused with the neat formulation made by the superior little Italian boy who refused to sit beside uncouth little Angelinabecause "we eat our macaroni this way,"—imitating the movement of

a fork from a plate to his mouth, —"and she eat her macaroni this

way," holding his hand high in the air and throwing back his head,

that his wide-open mouth might receive an imaginary cascade. Angelina gravely nodded her little head in approval of this distinction between gentry and peasant. "But isn't it astonishing that merely table

manners are made such a test all the way along?" was the comment oftheir democratic teacher. Another memory which refuses to be associated with death, which came to her all too soon, is that of the younggirl who organized our first really successful club of boys, holding their

fascinated interest by the old chivalric tales, set forth so dramatically

and vividly that checkers and jackstraws were abandoned by all the

other clubs on Boys' Day, that their members might form a listening

fringe to "The Young Heroes."

I met a member of the latter club one day as he flung himself out ofthe House in the rage by which an emotional boy hopes to keep fromshedding tears. "There is no use coming here any more, Prince Rolandis dead," he gruffly explained as we passed. We encouraged the youngerboys in tournaments and dramatics of all sorts, and we somewhat fatuously believed that boys who were early interested in adventurers or

explorers might later want to know the lives of living statesmen andinventors. It is needless to add that the boys quickly responded to such