The trinkets he used to keep in a little box on his dressing-table we children always used to speak of as "treasures." The word, and some of the trinkets themselves, passed on to the next generation.

My own children, when small, used to troop into my room while I was dressing, and the gradually accumulating trinkets in the "ditty-box"-- the gift of an enlisted man in the navy--always excited rapturous joy.

On occasions of solemn festivity each child would receive a trinket for his or her "very own." My children, by the way, enjoyed one pleasure I do not remember enjoying myself.

When I came back from riding, the child who brought the bootjack would itself promptly get into the boots, and clump up and down the room with a delightful feeling of kinship with Jack of the seven-league strides.
The punishing incident I have referred to happened when I was four years old.

I bit my elder sister's arm.