"Was I not?" Pinckney responded in a flush of grateful recognition. "But
that is not all. The house in which I was born, though generally
recognized as one of the finest examples of Queen Anne architecture in
reinforced concrete, was put up by my father, unassisted, from plans
which he purchased for a ridiculously small sum. Its every nook was the
abiding-place of love, of quiet content, and of nurturing comfort. The
furnace was equipped with the latest automatic devices so that it had to
be started only once a year. It was then left to the care of my mother,
who used to give it only a few minutes' attention every day without
going to the trouble of divesting herself of the gown of fine white lawn
which she always wore."
"My dear fellow," I could not keep from exclaiming, "you have almost
explained yourself. In such surroundings how could you help growing up
into what you are?"
"That is what I say, sir," he came back at me eagerly. "But you must
call to mind, also, the fostering personal care that was bestowed upon
us children. Take the matter of diet. Coffee, cocoa, excessive sweets,
every food-element tending to narcotise or over-stimulate the system was
rigorously excluded.
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