well, and have clearly preserved this, my earliest recollection
before my grandfather took me, and I came here a boy. I remember
the great building from whence I was brought, the number of people
who there worked, sang, and laughed, and who told me extraordinary
stories of how badly people were treated in the beautiful world.
This was my parents' home, thought I, when I began to ponder upon
parents and their connection with children. It was a large
manufactory which they possessed, thought I; I remembered the
number of work-people. All played and romped with me. I was wild
and full of boisterous spirits a boy of only six years old, but
with the perseverance and will of one of ten. Rosalie, thou sawest
many proofs of the evil which lay in my blood; it bordered upon
insolence. I remembered well the strong, merry Heinrich, who always
sang at his loom; he showed me and the others his tattooed breast,
upon which he had his whole mournful history imprinted. Upon his
arm were his own and his bride's names. That pleased me; I wished
to have my name also on my arm. 'It is painful!' said he; 'then
thou wilt pipe, my lad!' That was spur enough to make me desire it.
I allowed him to puncture my skin, to puncture an O and a T upon my
shoulder, and did not cry,--no, not once whilst the powder burnt
into it; but I was praised, and was proud to bear the initials--
proud of them until three years ago, when I met Heinrich here. I
recognized him, but he did not recognize me. I showed him my
shoulder, and besought him to read the name, this O and T: but he
did not say Otto Thostrup; he named a name which destroyed the
happiness of my childhood, and has made me miserable forever!"

"It was a fearful day!" said Rosalie. "Thou didst demand from me an
explanation, thy grandfather gave it thee, and thou wast no longer
the Otto thou hadst formerly been. Yet wherefore speak of it? Thou