fted upon the vast table by the warm and rosy Amelia, and
allowed to leap therefrom into her extended arms; she rushing toward
me, and both of us emitting either shrill or growling noises as the
psychological moment of my leap was reached. At the time I used to
think that springing from a trapeze, set in the dome of a great
building, into a net beneath, must be the most ravishing of all joys;
but I incline now to think that my more homely feat of leaping into
Amelia's warm arms was, upon the whole, probably a pleasanter thing.

This memory is of something which I believe happened fairly
frequently. My other most distinct recollection of what I imagine to
have been the same period in history is of a visit, a Sunday afternoon
visit, I think, paid with Amelia. I must have been of tender years,
because, though during parts of the journey I travelled on my own two
feet, I recollect occasional lapses into a perambulator, as it might
be in the case of an elderly or invalid person who walks awhile along
a stretch of level sward, and then takes his ease for a time in
victoria or bath-chair.

I remember Amelia lifting me out from my carriage in the doorway of
what I regarded as a very delightful small house, redolent of strange
and exciting odours, some of which I connect with the subsequent gift
of a slab of stuff that I ate with gusto as cake. My mature view is
that it was cold bread-pudding of a peculiarly villainous clamminess.
It is interesting to note that my delight in this fearsome dainty was
based upon its most malevolent quality: the chill consistency of the
stuff, which made it resemble the kind of leathery jelly that I have
seen used to moisten the face of a rubber stamp withal.

In this house--it was probably in a slum, certainly in a mean
street--one stepped direct from the pavement into a small kitchen,
where an elderly man sat smoking a long clay pipe. A covered stairway
rose mysteriously from one side of this apartment into the two
bedrooms above. A door beside the stairway opened into a tiny scullery,
from which light was pretty thoroughly excluded by the high, black wall
which dripped and frowned no more than three feet away from its
window. I have little doubt that this scullery was a pestilent place.
At the time it appealed to my romantic sense as something rather
attractive.

The elderly man in the kitchen was Amelia's father. That in itself
naturally gave him distinction in my eyes. But, in addition, he