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ing to get black pudding, merely to gratify a woman's whim?" "A woman's whim?" said my grandmother, "it's no whim, Mr Love, it is a necessity and therefore——" "Has no law," said my grandfather, interrupting her. "Whether it has law or not," said my grandmother, "unless I get black pudding, I'll not be responsible for the Loves of future generations." "Black puddings and future generations may go——" My grandfather did not finish the sentence, at all events it was inaudible, as he began to snore, and my grandmother turned her face to the wall and sobbed.
This happened on the 14th of November, 1794, at 3 o'clock in the morning, and on the 11th of February following, at half-past 10 in the evening, my father was born.
"Is the child all right?" said my grandmother. "He's a gallant boy—I never saw a prettier," said the midwife. "Hand him to me," said my grandmother. "I was sure of it," she exclaimed, "Do you see that mark there?" pointing with her finger,
