Sun-Babies: Studies in the Child-life of India by Cornelia Sorabji

My fastest real baby friend was a Moon-baby. He was English, he was adorable, and I began to know him very soon after the fairies brought him dancing to the Earth on a silver-blue Moon-ray.

A little pensive in repose, his dear face was, when he smiled, the gladness of a spring meadow of golden cowslips.

In my heart I treasure many memories. . . . Geoffrey coming in from his walk with a half-eaten ginger nut which he had saved for his friend: "I brang it all the way for you", or Geoffrey with a crushed dandelion in a hot little fist, another offering, Geoffrey listening to nursery tales, Geoffrey adoring his mother, like whom, for him, to the end of his days, no one ever existed, or could exist, Geoffrey at five years of age, when on a rare occasion I had to leave the house without bidding him good-bye. That was a beloved nursery memory. When told that I had gone, he would not at first believe. "She did not tell me, " he kept insisting. But belief followed on fruitless search, and then: "Come upstars, Nannie, " said he to his nurse, and, when up in the nursery, old Nannie was made to cut off a gold-brown curl to wrap away in silver paper against my return.