In the winter of 1884 when James Curwood and his family moved into the little farm in Ohio, Jeanne Fisher took it upon herself to see that the Curwoods became her friends. The lovely Jeanne was lonely and needed friendships besides those of schoolmates.
For, from the time school was dismissed in the afternoon until the following morning, she was entirely alone with her parents. No playmates, no neighbors lived within a mile of her home.
So when the Curwoods came, Jeanne quickly presented herself. It was a strange new land to Jimmie as well as to his parents and consequently they all welcomed her friendly approach. She tried and she succeeded in making the young boy feel at home in his new neighborhood. From that time on, nothing save death could separate the pair.
By the nickname of “Whistling Jeanne,” one would be led to believe that the girl was a “tom-boy,” and so she was, to a certain extent. Her kindness for Jimmie, however, would surely tempt one to believe to the contrary. For when Jimmie nicknamed her “Whistling Jeanne,” he did so because he loved to hear her incessant whistling. She would whistle regardless of how much trouble she might be in, or no matter how low her spirits might be. At times she was very much a young lady of the first rank; but she could become a regular “tom-boy” if the occasion called for it. She was a swift runner, a good tree climber, an excellent shot with a rifle and she could put up as good a fight as most boys of her own age are capable of. Still she was every inch a young lady. Quiet and refined as the occasion demanded. She did not believe in being inactive, believing that one should keep one’s body as well as one’s mind occupied.
Only a few short months after Jimmie had launched himself on a literary career Jeanne’s guiding influence was tossed to the four winds by the reckless, though well-meaning, lad. For at that time he came under the influence and thumb of the school bully. Everything that could have happened to a schoolboy who was being led astray happened to Jimmie Curwood. He was now almost eleven years of age while Jeanne was nearly sixteen.
One morning during the first semester of school Jimmie made a terrible mistake in one of his lessons as well as having been guilty of a boyish misdemeanor.
“Jimmie Curwood, if you don’t correct yourself and apologize for your intended error, I shall box your ears,” the elderly lady teacher informed him. Sitting directly behind him was the school bully.
On more than one occasion he had caused trouble and he was once again up to his old pranks. He whispered to Jimmie and told him just what to do. It is at this age that young boys get to feel pretty important if they can hold the limelight for a while.
At first Jimmie hesitated, but when the bully called him a coward, he blurted out:
“You don’t dare to do it!”