sing the
friendship of the animal painter, Verboeckhoven, and that greatest of
more modern Belgian artists, Louis Gallait and his family, in whose
society and home I have passed many delightful hours.

In recalling our arrival at the Jones house I first see the merry,
smiling face--somewhat faunlike in its expression--of my six-foot uncle,
and the plump figure of his wonderfully good and when undisturbed by
jealousy--no less cheery wife. There was something specially winning and
lovable about her, and I have heard that this lady, my mother's oldest
sister, possessed in her youth the same dazzling beauty. At the famous
ball in Brussels this so captivated the Duke of Wellington that he
offered her his arm to escort her back to her seat. My mother also
remembered the Napoleonic days, and I thought she had been specially
favoured in seeing this great man when he entered Rotterdam, and also
Goethe.

I remember my grandfather as a stately old gentleman. He, as well as the
other members of the family, called me Georg Krullebol, which means
curly-head, to distinguish me from a cousin called Georg von Gent. I also
remember that when, on the morning of December 5th, St. Nicholas day, we
children took our shoes to put on, we found them, to our delight, stuffed
with gifts; and lastly that on Christmas Eve the tree which had been
prepared for us in a room on the ground floor attracted such a crowd of
curious spectators in front of the Jones house that we were obliged to
close the shutters. Of my grandparents' day of honor I remember nothing
except a large room filled with people, and the minutes during which I
repeated my little verse. I can still see myself in a short pink skirt,
with a wreath of roses on my fair curls, wings on my shoulders, a quiver
on my back, and a bow in my hand, standing before the mirror very much
pleased with my appearance. Our governess had composed little Cupid's
speech, my mother had drilled me thoroughly in it, so I do not remember a
moment of anxiety and embarrassment, but merely that it afforded me the
purest, deepest pleasure to be permitted to do something.

I must have behaved with the utmost ease before the spectators, many of
whom I knew, for I can still hear the loud applause which greeted me, and
see myself passed from one to another till I fled from the kisses and pet
names of grandparents, aunts, and cousins to my mother's lap. Of the
bride and groom of this golden wedding I remember only t