Neith Boyce

“ JEFF hurried home, flung down his books and joyfully buckled himself into his armor. In ten minutes he was back at Ruth's gate. and she was there to open it for him. She admired him to his heart's content: pored over the dragon-shield, lifted the lance and the sword, and then nothing would do but she must try on the helmet. It came down low over her forehead, and her rosy face and black glossy curls showed quaintly under the peaked visor.
"It's too heavy for you," said Jeff, gently but firmly lifting it off. "And you look nicer in that hood. Girls can’t be knights, you know." ”

“ Philip only bit his lips. Jeff squared his shoulders and repeated peremptorily:
"Do you?"
Philip shrank, as always, before Jeff’s superior presence.
"N—no," he stammered.
And Jeff went on, with Ruth proudly trotting by his side.
"I wish that fellow could fight," said Jeff loftily. "He’s always acting mean and then saying he’s sick, he makes me tired."
"Me too," said Ruth loyally. "But he couldn't fight you, could he, Jeff?"
"No," said Jeff, condescendingly. "I never hit him. Why, even a girl could lick him."
But the weak have their weapons too poisoned weapons sometimes. ... ”

“ She appeared daily at school, wearing the blue hood; and Jeff noted her coming and going but made no attempt to speak to her. He had learned that her name was Ruth. He continued to perform on his bicycle and to wear his armor after school for her benefit. And then one evening, coming forth with a newly-painted shield, he found Philip at her gate, talking to her. He walked past, bestowing a haughty nod on Philip and receiving in return a half-sneering smile. Philip used to make as much fun as he dared of Jeff's interest in knights and feats of arms ”

“ He went on with his own scientific game of marbles, and was worsted, for his eye was distractedly on the blue hood.
Jeff never played with girls; he had a lofty attitude toward them and a natural conviction of their inferiority. He rather despised those boys who were interested in them, and especially one slim pale lad who shamelessly preferred female companionship, and who, when he was not walking or talking with the creatures, was drawing sublimated pictures of them—wondrous female heads, with enormous eyes and curly tresses. This boy’s name was Philip ”

“ He was careful, as exact as possible about his facts, and he had good orthodox moral notions, such as the disgusting character of theft, lying and cowardliness, the only sins he knew much about as yet. ”