Family

Today I was reading a new set of letters written by my favorite cartoonist, and came across his description of his household in Harlem. Julia and Tommy were his two eldest children.

"When you are in town, you may certainly count on finding us at home, no matter when it may be, and the shanty and its intimates at your service, our hospitality is of the rough & tumble, higgledy-piddledy type, as we have no serf whatever, not even the shadow of one, but none the less hearty for all that. Julia is installed as head nurse, Tommy jr. general assistant, the dog is door tender and Mrs. N. maid of all works."

Sounds kind of fun, doesn't it? In another letter, about a year later, when there was a new baby, he wrote:

"The baby on whose account the country was prescribed, came back quite ruddy and fat, and so did the other children although there was no necessity for a change in their case, and there was in hers. They all discourse of corn fields, water horses, milking cows, feeding pigs and chickens, hunting eggs and other similar delights with the greatest animation, and by the racket that they make, I think you have good reason to thank kind fate who has again preserved you from an infliction of the Nast family."

These are the moments which make me sorry never to have met Mr. Nast.

In other news, Iain walked into the house tonight, stood next to his high-chair, and demanded "EAT!" Pray for us.