EXCERPTS Table of Contents Translator/Editor Notes Cover Page p.25   p.35  p.88  p.94  p.151  p.190  CHAPTER II - CHILDHOOD           25       On the immense oak table framed with benches was enthroned the traditional carafe of "Calva" [Calvados]* and, next to it, a little footed glass, the measure for it.       --Hey, Father Emile, you're not going to leave without having a little glass?       --Oh, I can't refuse.       Besides, not accepting would have been an unforgivable insult.       But my uncle was torn between the pleasure of having a shot of "the hard stuff" before going back home, and his distaste for this unique glass that was not only chipped but of a cloudy appearance, bearing witness that it was never rinsed between visitors. But after all, he had fought in the war of 1914 and knew that alcohol disinfects. Having taken hold of the notched side of the glass, he said to himself: "The others couldn't have drunk from this side."       And while he was swallowing his Calva, the old farmer looked at him with a strangely ironic gaze, and said: "Careful, Father Emile! You could cut yourself. I don't understand, you're drinking exactly like the mailman, from the chipped side."       With time my childhood memories have also curiously broken off. Certain ones live in my memory as clear as if I were seeing them, others are obscured as though in the fog of a dirty glass, and then there are all the others, like shards of shattered glass, of which no memories remain.

* The very strong apple brandy made in Normandy.