TREADING THE NARROW WAY

EARLY FOOTSTEPS.


Robert Emmett Barrett was the soothing and patriotic cognomen my father
fastened upon me when I first opened my eyes and I looked him squarely
in the face. I say my father named me and I honestly think he did. The
first two-thirds of the name proves my contention and opens the book
wide enough that the reader has no trouble in discerning the nationality
of my father. Mother was an English woman and I knew it the first time
she called father “Arry.” If mother had had her equal righ...