When I was five years old I had such a great sorrow I hardly know if I have had a greater since then. It was then that my grandmother died. Up to that time, she used to sit every day on the corner sofa in her room, and tell stories. I remember grandmother told story after story from morning till night, and we children sat beside her, quite still, and listened. It was a glorious life No other children had such happy times as we did. It isn't much that I recollect about my grandmother. I remember that she had very beautiful snow-white hair, and stooped when she walked, and that she always sat and knitted a stocking. And I even remember that when she had finished a story, she used to lay her hand on my head and say: "All this is as true, as true as that I see you and you see me." I also remember that she could sing songs, but this she did not do every day. One of the songs was about a knight and a sea-troll, and had this refrain: "It blows cold, cold weather at sea . . ."