Though numerous people seem to be writing their memoirs these days, it is rare and refreshing to come upon one where the writer had a happy childhood and wants to tell about it. Mildred Armstrong Kalish is a retired English professor, and she has a novelist's touch in describing the time and place and family that she remembers fondly.

I surmised from the title that this account would be full of mischievous adventures of a group of wild children. No, indeed. "Little heathens" is what her stern grandmother called Mildred and her siblings most of the time. When she was five years old, "my grandfather banished my father from our lives forever for some transgression that was not to be disclosed to us children, though we overheard whispered references to bankruptcy, bootlegging, and jail time." With that tantalizing sentence, her father never enters the story again, and Kalish seems to have banished him from her consciousness.

The rest of the family, on the other hand, is described in loving detail. "Grandma and Grandpa chose to make our family of five. . . their responsibility." Instead of the resentment that we might expect from a child reared by extremely demanding and authoritative grandparents, Kalish is grateful and appreciative of the values they instilled. Times were tough, and everybody worked hard, even the young children.

They managed to have a really good time while doing so, and the joy shines through the pages. There were the Big Kids and the Little Kids among the cousins, and it was a great honor to be allowed to consort with the Big Kids. The younger ones might scrape the seeds out of the Thanksgiving pumpkin, but it was the stronger older ones who sliced it into crescents to be cooked and turned into pies by the grandmother.

There wasn't much money and few "store-bought" items, but they certainly ate well. Prepare to be hungry reading this book -- cream, pie crusts, giblet gravy, mashed potatoes, cabbage salad -- food from the farm. The wood-burning range held a central place in the kitchen and symbolically in their lives. Even the young ones learned to control the heat.

"There was an unspoken, general agreement conveyed to us girls that by the grown-up women we came in contact with that women were superior to men." One of the jokes was about an "Old Maid" who, when asked why she didn't try to find a husband, replied, "I have a dog that growls, a chimney that smokes, a parrot that swears, and a cat that stays out all night. Why do I need a husband?" Women did not smoke, drink, or swear. Children did not swear in the presence of adults because they did not like the taste of Lifebuoy or Fels Naphtha soap.

Their grandparents provided solid, practical commonsense guidance for the children. There were sayings that are still remembered, like, "If you're looking for a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm." Building character and a sense of responsibility, along with improving one's mind, were the focus of their training.

Much about the story is familiar to anyone from an old-school farming background. The children worked hard, but they knew that what they did was important to the family's survival and prosperity. Affection wasn't thrown around, but they knew they were cared for. They were taught how to behave with proverbs and maxims: "Waste not, want not." "An idle mind is the devil's workshop." Many other time-honored expressions are ones we still use.

If you enjoy reading about the "good old days" from someone who remembers them with understanding and pleasure, find Little Heathens at the Mary Willis Library.