“Well, now, my boy—are you getting on well at school?”
Peer put his hands behind him and set one foot forward. “Yes—he says so—teacher does.”
“How much is twelve times twelve?”
That was a stumper! Peer hadn’t got beyond ten times ten.
“Do they teach you gymnastics at the school?”
“Gym—? What’s that?”
“Jumping and vaulting and climbing ropes and drilling in squads—what?”
“But isn’t it—isn’t that wicked?”
“Wicked! Hahaha! Wicked, did you say? So that’s the way they look at things here, is it? Well, well—well, well! Hahaha! Hand me that matchbox, my boy. H’m!” He puffed away for a while in silence. Then, suddenly:
“See here, boy. Did you know you’d a little sister?”