ht
Oliver discovered generosity in hasting to David as to an equal; he also
walked hand in hand with him, and even reproved him for delinquencies
like a loving elder brother. But 'tis a gray world even in the Gardens,
for I found that a new arrangement had been made which reduced Oliver to
life-size. He had wearied of well-doing, and passed it on, so to speak,
to his friend. In other words, on David now devolved the task of being
good until he was eight, while Oliver clung to him so closely that the
one could not be wrecked without the other.

When this was made known to me it was already too late to break the
spell of Oliver, David was top-heavy with pride in him, and, faith, I
began to find myself very much in the cold, for Oliver was frankly bored
by me and even David seemed to think it would be convenient if I went
and sat with Irene. Am I affecting to laugh? I was really distressed and
lonely, and rather bitter; and how humble I became. Sometimes when the
dog Joey is unable, by frisking, to induce Porthos to play with him,
he stands on his hind legs and begs it of him, and I do believe I
was sometimes as humble as Joey. Then David would insist on my being
suffered to join them, but it was plain that he had no real occasion for
me.

It was an unheroic trouble, and I despised myself. For years I had
been fighting Mary for David, and had not wholly failed though she was
advantaged by the accident of relationship; was I now to be knocked out
so easily by a seven year old? I reconsidered my weapons, and I fought
Oliver and beat him. Figure to yourself those two boys become as
faithful to me as my coat-tails.

With wrecked islands I did it. I began in the most unpretentious way by
telling them a story which might last an hour, and favoured by many an
unexpected wind it lasted eighteen months. It started as the wreck of
the simple Swiss family who looked up and saw the butter tree, but soon
a glorious inspiration of the night turned it into the wreck of David
A---- and Oliver Bailey. At first it was what they were to do when they
were wrecked, but imperceptibly it became what they had done. I spent
much of my time staring reflectively at the titles of the boys' stories
in the booksellers' windows, whistling for a breeze, so to say, for
I found that the titles were even more helpful than the stories. We
wrecked everybody of note, including all Homer's most taking characters
and the hero of Paradise Lost. But we suffered