A little boy, aged about eight, with nearly all his front teeth gone,
came down early for breakfast this morning while I was having mine. He
asked me where the waiters were, and rang. When one arrived, the little
boy discovered that he could speak no French. However, the waiter said
“Café?” and he said “One”; but he told me that he also wanted buns.
While breakfasting, he said to me that he had got up early because
he was going down into the town that morning by the Funicular, as his
mother was to buy him his Christmas present, a silver lever watch. He
said: “I hate to be hurried for anything. Now, at home, I have to go to
school, and I get up early so that I shan’t be hurried, but my breakfast
is _always_ late; so I have too much time before breakfast, and nothing
to do, and too little time after breakfast when I’ve a lot to do.” In
answer to my question, he said gravely that he was going into the Navy.
He knew the exam, was very stiff, and that if you failed at a certain
age you were barred out altogether; and he asked me whether I thought it
was better to try the exam, early with only a little preparation, or to
leave it late with a long preparation. He thought the first course was
the best, because you could go in again if you failed. I asked him if he
didn’t want some jam. He said no, because the butter was so good, and
if he had jam he wouldn’t be able to taste the butter. He then rang the
bell for more milk, and explained to me that he couldn’t drink coffee
strong, and the consequence was that he had a whole lot of coffee left
and no milk to drink it with.. . . He said he lived in London, and that
some shops down in the town were better than London shops. By this time
a German had descended. He and I both laughed. But the child stuck to
his point. We asked him: “What shops?” He said that jerseys and watches
were nicer in the town than in London. In this he was right, and we had
to admit it. As a complete résumé, he said that there were fewer things
in the town than in London, but some of the things were nicer. Then
he explained to the German his early rising, and added an alternative
explanation, namely, that he had been sent to bed at 6.45, whereas 7.15
was his legal time.
Later in the day I asked him if he would come down early again to-morrow
and have breakfast with me. He said: “I don’t know. I shall see.”
There was no pose in this. Simply a perfect preoccupation with his
own interests and welfare. I should say he is absolutely egotistic. He
always employs natural, direct methods to get what he wants and to avoid
what lie doesn’t want.
I met him again a few afternoons later on the luge-track. He was very
solemn. He said he had decided not to go in for the single-luge race,
as it all depended on weight. I said: “Put stones in your pocket. Eat
stones for breakfast.”
He laughed slightly and uncertainly. “You can’t eat stones for
breakfast,” he said. “I’m getting on fine at skating. I can turn round
on one leg.”
“Do you still fall?” (He was notorious for his tumbles.)
“Yes.”
“How often?”
He reflected. Then: “About twelve times an hour.... If I skated all day
and all night I should fall twelve twelves--144, isn’t it?”