CHAPTER II.
THE PERVERSITY OF HIS CHILDHOOD.
When I became old enough to “take notice” of things, I was fairly deluged with toys: Fuzzy dogs and cats; big, red, yellow and green balls; fancy rattle-boxes, and various other things were used to stimulate my perceptive faculties. All of which should be left to Mother Nature, who ever does these things well in her own good time and way. I became so accustomed to toys, having such an innumerable variety of them, that it required something out of the ordinary to arouse my interest. The poetic thought
“Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a toy,”
had little significance to me. I outgrew toys very early and became precocious. Elderly ladies said I was “old for my age,” whatever that may mean, and that I was too smart to live. But I have always had a stubborn way of disappointing those who love me best. This precocity was taken advantage of by relatives and visitors to furnish them with amusement. Many a time when some one dropped in I was called upon to be the star-performer of the evening. I was compelled to appear whether I felt like it or not. I was tickled in the ribs, because the folks liked to hear my hearty laugh; and I was tossed in the air and stood on my head, because it was thought that these things were as amusing to me as to my audience. Whenever conversation lagged I was made the center of attraction and compelled to assist in some new stunt. As I now look back on my infantile career, I have little reason to question why I was nervous and spoiled as I merged from infancy into childhood. I ought to be thankful that I survived it all!
Nursing the baby.
As I grew older I became peevish and morose. I was full of conceits, moods and whims. This was not due to actual sickness, for all my functions were normal and I was reasonably well nourished. One sort of play or pastime soon palled on me. I think this was mainly due to the fact that I had been humored to death and had enjoyed every sensation and surprise that it was possible for me to experience. When I played with other children, things had to go my way or there was a scene. I did not fight, my bump of combativeness being evidently small. It was not from my inherent goodness that I refrained from pugilistic encounters so much as from the fact that I did not want to disturb my mental equanimity. Then I was lazy and liked a state of physical ease—a condition from which I have not yet recovered. I never wasted any physical energy. In fine, I was steeped in irredeemable laziness to such a degree that it exceeded that of the Indian who said: “What’s the use to run when you can walk; or walk when you can sit; or sit when you can lie?” On one occasion, while yet quite young, I was found trying to limit the number of my respirations, stating that it “tired me to breathe so often.” I often ate and drank more than I really wanted, hoping thereby not to be troubled with eating and drinking for some little time.