onths crept on, I was
assigned to the playground of the little kids, babes, toddlers. The
balls, bats, mitts, and other playthings were too big for me. But I
kept up with my classes in school and maybe the disappointments in
sports urged me to win somewhere else. I won the eighth-grade prize in
arithmetic and mechanical drawing. And then came high school, and the
great disaster, quickly followed by an entrance into an Orphan's
Heaven--a home in a private family. In the shifting personnel at the
orphanage, there were fewer high-school pupils. We went to a different
building over different streets. It was no doubt a singular sight to
the residents to see a midget with six-footers, but it was just that
way. And it must have been a singular sight to Loron Usark, a big
childish lout that lived on Spruce Street. We would pass the end of
the alley back of his house and he was out there every day to watch us
go by. Now this Loron was too weak, mentally, for school. Ordered
around by everybody and pestered and teased by many, the
moronic-minded will seek a victim that he can abuse and bend to his
own will, and this Loron party was on the lookout. One day he caught
me tagging along behind the others. He grabbed me and would have
beaten me, but my companions rescued me. After that, I had to be on
the lookout. I was marked for slaughter by this fool.

"Mrs. Gillis," Davy changed his tone of voice to a deeper bass, as was
his wont when he desired to impress a listener. He shook his pencil at
his deeply interested audience of one. "Mrs. Gillis, I've seen a lot
of people in my time. Except for old-time circus people and theatrical
troopers, I've seen a million more than my share. And you can set
this down on your mental calendar as an established truth: whenever
you see a Big One taunting a Little One, you can set him down as a big
coward. And, whenever you see a Dub kidding a Lout, you can be assured
that the dub is trying to lift himself above a similar rating.

"Well, this Loron lout finally got me," said Davy, resuming the thread
of his life story. "I was on my way back to the orphanage for a book
and as I passed the alley he swept me down. They were good sidewalks
out there, else he would have broken them in bits as he pounded my
head on 'em. He kicked when he could and struck as often as he cared.
His exultant cries must have attracted attention, for I was past even
an outcry. Finally a lady rushed out of the nearby house and c