At first he snarled curses
at them--curses he had learned from the lips of various foremen. Finding
this futile, and remembering his dignity, he relapsed into dogged
silence.

His brother Will, next to him in age, having just passed his tenth
birthday, was the ringleader. Johnny did not possess particularly kindly
feelings toward him. His life had early been embittered by continual
giving over and giving way to Will. He had a definite feeling that
Will was greatly in his debt and was ungrateful about it. In his own
playtime, far back in the dim past, he had been robbed of a large part
of that playtime by being compelled to take care of Will. Will was a
baby then, and then, as now, their mother had spent her days in the
mills. To Johnny had fallen the part of little father and little mother
as well.

Will seemed to show the benefit of the giving over and the giving way.
He was well-built, fairly rugged, as tall as his elder brother and even
heavier. It was as though the life-blood of the one had been diverted
into the other's veins. And in spirits it was the same. Johnny was
jaded, worn out, without resilience, while his younger brother seemed
bursting and spilling over with exuberance.

The mocking chant rose louder and louder. Will leaned closer as he
danced, thrusting out his tongue. Johnny's left arm shot out and caught
the other around the neck. At the same time he rapped his bony fist to
the other's nose. It was a pathetically bony fist, but that it was
sharp to hurt was evidenced by the squeal of pain it produced. The other
children were uttering frightened cries, while Johnny's sister, Jennie,
had dashed into the house.

He thrust Will from him, kicked him savagely on the shins, then reached
for him and slammed him face downward in the dirt. Nor did he release
him till the face had been rubbed into the dirt several times. Then the
mother arrived, an anaemic whirlwind of solicitude and maternal wrath.

"Why can't he leave me alone?" was Johnny's reply to her upbraiding.
"Can't he see I'm tired?"

"I'm as big as you," Will raged in her arms, his face a mass of tears,
dirt, and blood. "I'm as big as you now, an' I'm goin' to git bigger.
Then I'll lick you--see if I don't."

"You ought to be to work, seein' how big you are," Johnny snarled.
"That's what's the matter with you. You ought to be to work. An' it's up
to your ma to put you to work."

"But he's too young," she protested. "He's only a little boy."