When memory began for me, my grandfather was past sixty-a great tall man with thick hair becoming gray. He had black eyes and a straight nose which ended in a slightly flattened tip. Once he explained seriously to me that he got that flattened tip as a small child when he fell down and stepped on his nose.

¡¡¡¡The little marks of laughter at the corners of his eyes were the prodnct of a kindly and humorous nature. The years of work which had bent his shoulders had never dulled his humour nor his love of a joke.