it should appear from anything i may set down in this narrative that i was a child of close observation or that as a man i have a strong memory of my childhood i undoubtedly lay claim to both of these characteristics looking back as i was saying into the blank of my infancy the first objects i can remember as standing out by themselves from a confusion of things are my mother and what else do i remember let me see there comes out of the cloud our house � not new to me but quite familiar in its earliest remembrance on the floor is s kitchen opening into a back yard with a pigeon house on a pole in the centre without any in it a great dog in a comer without any dog and a quantity of fowls that look terribly tall to me walking about in a menacing and ferocious manner there is one cock who gets upon a post to crow and seems to take particular notice of me as i look at him through the kitchen window who makes me shiver he is so fierce of the outside the side gate who come after me with their long necks stretched out when i go that way i dream at night as a man by wild beasts might dream of lions of david here is a long passage � what an enormous perspective i make of it � leading from s kitchen to the front door a dark store room opens out of it and that is a place to be run past at night for i don t know what may be among those and and old tea w hen there is nobody in there with a dimly burning light letting a air come out at the door in which there is the smell of soap candles and coffee all at one then there are the two the parlor in which we sit of an evening my mother and i and � for is quite our companion when her work is done and we are alone � and the best parlor where we sit on a sunday but not so comfortably there is something of a air about that room to me for has told me � i don t know when but apparently ages go � about my father s funeral and the company having their black put on one sunday night my mother reads to and me in there how was raised up from the dead and i am so frightened that they are afterwards obliged to take me out of bed and me the quiet churchyard out of the bedroom window with the dead au lying in their graves at rest below the solemn moon there is nothing half so green that i know anywhere as the grass of that churchyard nothing half so shady as its trees nothing half so quiet as its the sheep are feeding there when i kneel up early in the morning in my little bed in a closet within my mother s room to look out at it and i see the red light shining on the sun dial and think within myself is the sun dial glad i wonder that it can tell the time again here is our in the church what a high backed with a window near it out of which our house can be seen and is seen many times during the morning s service by who to make herself as sure as she can that it s not being robbed or is not in flames but though s eye she is much offended if mine does and to me as i stand upon the seat that i am to look at the clergyman but i can t always look at him � i know him without that white thing on and i am afraid of his wondering why i stare so and perhaps stopping the service to � and what am i to do it s a dreadful thing to but i must do something i look at my mother but site not to see me i look at a boy in the aisle and he makes faces at me i look at the sunlight coming in at the open door through the porch and there i see a stray sheep � i don t mean a sinner but mutton � half making up his mind to come into the church i feel that if i looked at him any longer i might be tempted to say something out loud and what would become of me then i look up at the on the wall and try to think of mr late of this parish and what the feelings of mrs must have been when affliction sore long time mr bore and were in vain i wonder whether they called in mr and he was in vain and if so how he likes to be reminded of it once a week i look from mr in his sunday to the pulpit and think what a good place it would be to play in and what a castle it would make with another boy coming up the stall s to attack it and the history and experience having the velvet cushion with the thrown down on his head in time my eyes gradually shut up and from seeming to hear the clergyman singing a drowsy song in the heat i hear nothing until i fall off the seat with a crash and am taken out more dead than alive by and now i see the outside of our house with the standing open to let in the sweet smelling air and the ragged old nests still dangling in the elm trees at the bottom of the front garden now i am in the garden at the back beyond the yard where the empty pigeon house and dog are � a 