When you tell a story you should always start right at the very beginning, and that is what I am going to do. The first thing I was when I was about two weeks old. I’m sure you can’t when you were two weeks old. I think that is very clever of me, don’t you? It shows what a fine memory I have. I was lying[5] in a sort of cage made of criss-cross wires. There was sawdust on the floor. There were four of us in all, for I had two sisters and one brother. My mother’s name was Gretchen and my father’s name was Fritz. I am named after my father. He had two or three other names besides, but they’re very hard to say, being German.

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