_The quotations are from the articles which appeared in "The Sunday Times." It does not of course follow that these passages will appear in the same form, or will appear at all, when the complete autobiography is published._ MARGE ASKINFORIT FIRST EXTRACT THE CATASTROPHIC FAMILY I was christened Margarine, of course, but in my own circle I have always been known as Marge. The name is, I am informed, derived from the Latin word _margo_, meaning the limit. I have always tried to live right up to it. We were a very numerous family, and I can find space for biographical details of only a few of the more important. I must keep room for myself. My elder sister, Casein--Casey, as we always called her--was supposed to be the most like myself, and was less bucked about it than one would have expected. I never made any mistake myself as to which was which. I had not her beautiful lustrous eyes, but neither had she my wonderful cheek. She had not my intelligence. Nor had she my priceless gift for uttering an unimportant personal opinion as if it were the final verdict of posterity with the black cap on. We were devoted to one another, and many a time have I owed my position as temporary parlour-maid in an unsuspicious family to the excellent character that she had written for me. She married Moses Morgenstein, a naturalized British subject, who showed his love for his adopted country by trading as Stanley Harcourt. He was a striking figure with his coal-black hair and nails, his drooping eye-lashes and under-lip, and the downward sweep of his ingratiating nose. The war found him burning with enthusiasm, and I give here one verse of a fine poem which he wrote and, as I will remember, recited in Mrs. Mopworth's _salon_: I vos in Luntun since t'ree year, In dis lant I holt so tear, Inklant, my Inklant! Mit her overbowering might If she gonquer in der fight, M. Morgenstein vill be all right-- _Nicht?_-- Inklant, my own! He was a man of diverse talents, and I used to regret that he gave to the tripe-dressing what was meant for the muses. Alas, he was, though indirectly, one of the many victims of the Great War. His scheme for the concealment of excess profits was elaborate and ingenious, and practised with assiduity. His simple mind could not apprehend that elemental honesty was in process of modification. "Vot I maig for myself, dat I keeb, _nicht?_" he often said to me. And then the blow fell. However, he has earned the utmost remission to which good conduct could entitle him, and we are hoping that he will be out again by Christmas.