"Nothing at all. I could stand everything," I bragged

"You could not, if I bit your finger."

"Go ahead!" I said, with bravado, holding out my hand. She dug
her teeth into one of my fingers. It hurt so that I involuntarily
ground my own teeth, but I smiled

"Does it not hurt you, Davie?" she asked, with a look of admiration

"Not a bit. Go on, bite as hard as you can."

She did, the cruel thing, and like many an older heroine, she would
not desist until she saw her lover's blood

"It still does not hurt, does it?" she asked, wiping away a red drop
from her lips.

I shook my head contemptuously

"When you are a man you will be strong as Samson the Strong."

I was the strongest boy in her father's school. She knew that most
of the other boys were afraid of me, but that did not seem to
interest her. At least when I began to boast of it she returned to my
ability "to stand punishment," as the pugilists would put it

One day one of my schoolmates aroused her admiration by the way
he "played" taps with his fist for a trumpet. I tried to imitate him,
but failed grievously. The other boy laughed and Sarah-Leah