Well, at all events, our childhood, what with one thing or another, was a very happy one, and slipped all too soon away.
Why was it, I wonder, that as far back as I can remember, I always felt myself my brother’s keeper, so to speak? Mind you, though I was the cider, it was only by five minutes. But this five minutes appeared to make me immeasurably wiser than Jill. I was not stronger, nor bigger, nor anything, only just five minutes older, and five years wiser. So I thought, and so Jill thought, and he never failed to consult me in all matters, however trivial.
He would just say, with that simple, innocent smile of his:
“Jack, what would you do now?”
And I would tell him, and he would do it straight away.
Of course Jill was very dear to me. I loved him more than I did myself. Does that seem a strange confession? Well, it is true, though. I think one reason for this great affection was his likeness to papa. I saw that, if others did not. And he even had papa’s way of talking and using little odd words, such as “certainly,” “assuredly,” and so forth.
For example one day in the schoolroom we were among the “ologies”—bother them all.
“Reginald Augustus,” said auntie, and I pulled myself to “attention” and braced sharp up, as Bill would say. “Reginald Augustus, define to us the meanings of the words ‘entomology’ and ‘etymology.’”
Now I would have been all right if I hadn’t started off by putting the cart before the horse.
“Entomology,” I replied, “is the science that treats of word derivations, and etymology describes insects.”