his own happy expression, "to manufacture those snowy loaves of
bread, those delicious tarts, those toothsome bon-bons. And then
to own them all, to keep them in store, to watch over and
guardedly exhibit. The thought of getting money for them was
to me a sacrilege. Sell them? No indeed. Eat 'em--eat 'em, by
tray loads and dray loads! It was a great wonder to me why the
pale-faced baker in our town did not eat all his good things.
This I determined to do when I became owner of such a grand
establishment. Yes, sir. I would have a glorious feast. Maybe
I'd have Tom and Harry and perhaps little Kate and Florry in to
help us once in a while. The thought of these play-mates as
'grown-up folks' didn't appeal to me. I was but a child, with
wide-open eyes, a healthy appetite and a wondering mind. That
was all. But I have the same sweet tooth to-day, and every time
I pass a confectioner's shop, I think of the big baker of our
town, and Tom and Harry and the youngsters all."

As a child, he often went with his father to the court-house
where the lawyers and clerks playfully called him "judge Wick."
Here as a privileged character he met and mingled with the
country folk who came to sue and be sued, and thus early the
dialect, the native speech, the quaint expressions of his "own
people" were made familiar to him, and took firm root in the
fresh soil of his young memory. At about this time, he made his
first poetic attempt in a valentine which he gave to his mother.
Not only did he write the verse, but he drew a sketch to
accompany it, greatly to his mother's delight, who, according to
the best authority, gave the young poet "three big cookies and
didn't spank me for two weeks. This was my earliest literary
encouragement."