You were our only child; named Artaminta, in remembrance of my mother.
The child was preserved, and brought up in the temple of Phœbus.
When he "played" with Baby Akemit thereafter, the pretence was not all with the child.
The frolic with the child seemed to have blown away a fog from between them.
But I've known every bad place in it, and I've religiously put in your "Come, come, child!"
He did not remember who he was, or that he had a wife and child.
He was a happy-go-lucky person and he could not give his child a large dowry.
The child was carried on its mother's back, and hung on without any assistance.
She evidently preferred facing any danger to parting with her child.
Rock, rock, went the cradle, and mother and child slept; but alas!