However, when Dad was home he was the personification of kind- ness. He never quarreled with mother in front of us, so if they did have differences we never knew of them. He was quiet always, told many funny stories at the dinner table, and never punished us until we absolutely forced him beyond endurance. He always had some pro- jeat going around the house on which to exercise his drive toward perfection, which was quite considerable.

My mother was always a very active person. She was strong and handy and vital. She introduced us early to household chores and she insisted that they be done right. Under her tutelage I was a willing worker and I cherish to this day some of the compliments I received from her ( I could never seem to get a valuable compliment from Dad- he was just too much the perfectionist ). I was always quite close to my mother, more so than the other kids, and I still regard her opinion highly. In most respects I consider my childhood to be quite normal with the usual number of cuts, bruises, fights and broken windows. Nonetheless, I can recall some particulars from childhood which may be significant. My favorite pasttime was playing "clowns". My brother and I were the youngest kids on a block of 22 boys--and no girls. I "hated" girls from the time I was 5 until I was 10-- partly I think because Dad kidded me about them when ever he got a chance. I didn't like to fight and avoided it whenever I could. I used to lose more fights than I won、 I was always tall and thin for my age and wore glasses from the age of 6 years. Finally, there was a kid across the street from us whom I never saw but heard about from the other boys. The fellows said he wore velvet suits and lace underwear. They said the father was a postman and the mother had cancer and it was her wish that he be kept this way. According to the story he showed up at Public School dressed this way ready to start the first grade but was taken home at noon. I was always in- trigued by this story and wanted to meet the boy but never did. Whether any of this is pertinent to the development of an incipient TV is a moot point because I recall first experience with femme clothes at about the age of four or five.

My mother was extremely modest and used to dress behind her door. I was intrigued by this mysterious procedure and one day want into her room, took some pink rayon underclothes from her drawer and imitated her. But she must have heard me and I was discovered much to my chagrin. That day I took a nap and woke up when it was about time for dinner. Dad was home. He and mother were sitting on the livingroom davenport when I came downstairs. Dad asked me about my