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very hard to represent in clay. Everybody was very much excited about Marion's statue and [sup]especially[sup] that clay cloak flying in the wind. It was generally felt that Montezuma was quite remarkable for a third-grade child and that it should be taken down to The Art Institute to see if it could be cast. As I remember, this was done, but somehow the cloak came back thicker, less wafery and [sup]in the end[sup] Montezuma looked more like a bat than an Inca. It was too bad.

    As a beginner, my outward life was quieter

and more commonplace, it began a little little later in the morning with poppy seed rolls, still hot from the neighboring bakery eaten at the round table in the dining room. Above the watch of that polished red mahogany table hung a green glass shade which cast its comfortable Victorian light in a wide circle below. I lost track of that milky green lampshade when we moved away from the State Street house and it was not until some 20 years later a long time afterward that I saw