It seems strange enough to me now that I should have been so uncommunicative; but I remind myself that I have been thoroughly made over, at least once, since those early days.
I recall with sorrow that I was sometimes as weak in morals as I was in religion.

I remember stealing a piece of sugar.

It was long ago--almost as long ago as anything that I remember.

We were still living in my grandfather's house when this dreadful thing happened and I was only four or five years old when we moved from there.

Before my mother figured this out for me I scarcely had the courage to confess my sin.
And it was thus: In a corner of a front room, by a window, stood a high chest of drawers.