My Boyhood and Youth 



and when she anxiously took me in her arms 

 and inquired what was the matter, I told her 

 that I had swallowed my tongue. She only 

 laughed at me, much to my astonishment, 

 when I expected that she would bewail the 

 awful loss her boy had sustained. My sisters, 

 who were older than I, oftentimes said when I 

 happened to be talking too much, "It's a pity 

 you had n't swallowed at least half of that long 

 tongue of yours when you were little." 



It appears natural for children to be fond of 

 water, although the Scotch method of making 

 every duty dismal contrived to make necessary 

 bathing for health terrible to us. I well remem- 

 ber among the awful experiences of childhood 

 being taken by the servant to the seashore 

 when I was between two and three years old, 

 stripped at the side of a deep pool in the rocks, 

 plunged into it among crawling crawfish and 

 slippery wriggling snake-like eels, and drawn 

 up gasping and shrieking only to be plunged 

 down again and again. As the time approached 

 for this terrible bathing, I used to hide in the 

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