. Recollections of Auton House .. . CHAPTER AUTON ...... 90 POSTSCRIPT . o ......... 97 RECOLLECTIONS OF AUTON HOUSE. CHAPTER FIRST. AUTON-BABYHOOD. Y name is C. Auton, a boy-baby. Theyblew in my face to keep me alive. Myparents bad so many children that myadvent troubled nobody but my motherand Doctor Posset. I struggled with existence in theusual senseless manner. The first liq-uid I ever swallowed was a spoonful oftepid lay on Miss Betsey Arnolds lap for hours, so poor and weak ashardly to be able to keep together. The whole lookout of life wassad and unnatu
. Recollections of Auton House .. . CHAPTER AUTON ...... 90 POSTSCRIPT . o ......... 97 RECOLLECTIONS OF AUTON HOUSE. CHAPTER FIRST. AUTON-BABYHOOD. Y name is C. Auton, a boy-baby. Theyblew in my face to keep me alive. Myparents bad so many children that myadvent troubled nobody but my motherand Doctor Posset. I struggled with existence in theusual senseless manner. The first liq-uid I ever swallowed was a spoonful oftepid lay on Miss Betsey Arnolds lap for hours, so poor and weak ashardly to be able to keep together. The whole lookout of life wassad and unnatural. I had no idea I should be such a fool, and wasashamed to be unable to hold up my head. I found, also, to mychagrin, that Miss Betseys supporting hand behind my ears wasnecessary to keep me from tumbling together into a little eyes got constantly crossed looking at Miss Betseys gold spec-tacles, and I was continually trying to see how wide I could stretchmy mouth, and what new grimaces I could make at invisible 10 RECOLLECTIONS OF AUTON HOUSE. When I did this in my sleep Miss Betsey said it was the wind in mystomach. My poor little knees were dreadfully red and mottled,and when I lay on my back they came way up over my head. I made frequent attempts to stick my finger through that softspot between the sutures on the top of my cranium. People whosaw my little finger-nail pronounced it the smallest on Miss Betsey and I were alone I inspected my digits to dis-cover what there was so awful cunning about them. When theparson came to see me nurse asked him if I was not a conscientious man, I am told, got over the difficulty by saying, Well, he is a baby. When I was sufficiently cohesive to bear pin-ning, I passed my time driveling over Miss Betseys finger, andrepeating the inane expression • a-goo ! Grown folks know little about the real trouble of being for balls and dressing for dinners is nothing to the ma-tutinal lava
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