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EARLY YEARS  IN  LOUISVILLE                    9
Pater Anton (" Nome," as I called him, " uncle" being an impossible word for me then) often came to cheer our little family. I can see him still, on his fat, old, lazy horse, trotting up the street, his long hair waving in the wind, his face shining with pleasure, his rusty coat shining also (with age, for he thought it worldly to have more than one new coat in eight years), while from his large pockets dolls, trumpets, jumping-jacks, and other ravishing toys stuck out in every direction. What a picture he was of kindness and child-like gayety, and how we hailed him with cries of joy and clapping of hands!
In looking back over the long procession of remembered events of those early years, I can still see myself playing one morning in the nursery with my mother and brother, when Lou, a devoted German maid, suddenly appeared before us with blanched face, saying to my mother, in frightened tones, that there were a number of ubluecoats" (Northern soldiers, as distinguished from the Southern " graycoats ") below, who insisted upon seeing her. I went with her to the parlor, clinging to her dress. Never having seen any but little tin soldiers before, I was terrified by these great men with bayonets and clanking swords. One of