New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1904-04-26
BERNHIRDTS INFANCY.
Hoe She Fell into the Fire.

From the Strand Magazine.
Nv mother was fond Of travelling; she would
90 from Spain to England; from London TO Paris:
from Paris to Berlin and from there 20 CHRIS
tiania; then she would come back. embrace me,
and set out again Tor Holland, her native COun-
try. She used 10 send my nurse clothing for
herself and cakes for me. To one Of my aunts
she would write: Look after little Sarah; shall
return in q months time" a month later she
would write TO another Of her sisters: Go and
see the child at her nurses; shall be back in
a couple of weeks"
Nv mothers age was nineteen; I was three
years old, and my two aunts were seventeen
fifteen, and the eldest was twenty-eight, but the
last one lived at Martinique. and was the
mother OF six children. Ny grandmother was
blind my grandfather dead, and my father had
been in China for the last two years. I have
no idea why he had gone there.
Ny youthful aunts always promised 70 come
and see me. but rarely kept their word. My
nurse hailed from Brittany and lived near Quinn
perle, in a little white house with \ low matched
roof, on which wild giLydowers grew. That was
the first flower which charmed my eyes as a
child, and I have loved il ever since. It's leaves
are heavy and sad looking. and its petals are
made Of the setting
Brittany IS a long way of, even IN our present
epoch Of velocity. IN those days it was the end
Of the world Fortunately my nurse was it ap-
pears, a good, kind woman, and as her own
child had died. she had only me to love. But
she loved after the manner Of poor people-when
she had time.
one day, a her husband was ill she went into
the fields TO help gather IN potatoes; the over
damp soil was rotting them and there was no
time TO be lost. She left IN charge Of her hus-
band, who was lying his Breton bedstead
suffering from bad attack Of lumbago. The
good woman had placed me in my high chair.
and had been careful TO put in the wooden peg
which supported the narrow tablet for my toys.
She threw a fagot in the CRATE and said TO me In
Breton language CIntil the age Of four / only
understood BTeton), BE good girl, Mix Bios
SON." That was my only name at the time.
When she had gone I tried TO withdraw the
wooden peg which she had taken so much
trouble TO put In place. Finally ! succeeded in
pushing aside the little rampant. / wanted to
reach the ground. but-poor little mel fell into
the fire, which was burning joyfuliy.
The screams Of my foster father who could
not move, brought in some neighboTs I was
thrown, all smoking, into large pail Of fresh
milk. Ny eunts were informed Of what had hap
pened; they communicated the news 10 my
mother, and for the next four days that quiet
part OF the country was poughed by stage
coaches. which arrived in rapid succession NV
aunts came from all parts OF the world; and my
mother. IN the greatest alarm FASTENED from
Brussels with Baron LarTey, one Of her friends
who was celebrated doctor and a surgeon
whom Baron Larrey had brought with him.
have been told since that nothing was more
mothers despair. The doctor approved OF the
mask Of butter" which was changed every two
hours
Dear Baron LaTrey! 1 often saw him after
ward. and now and again we shall meet him in
the pages OF my memoirs. He used to tell noe I'm
such charming fashion how those kind folks
loved Milk Blossom. And he could never re-
frain from laughing at the thought Of that
butter. There was butter every where, he used
10 say: the bedsteads. the cUpboards, on
bladders. All the neighbors used TO bring butter
to make masks for Mix Blossom.
Mother. admirably beautiful, looking like a
Madonna with her golden hair and her eyes