Quit that racket kids. No, turn it off and come over here. We’re supposed to be remembering old Stan today, it’s his big day and tomorrow there’ll be plenty of time for Tick-Tockin’, Row-box or whatever foolishness. Come over here and I’ll tell you a story. No, over here. In a circle.
You see that box over there, no the big one. There. Quit it Sally, I don’t have time for shenanigans. Stanley’s in there, his is body anyway. Yes, really. I thought that’d make you clam-up.
Now I seem pretty old to you and I am. I’ve seen 52 summers and am proper old. But when I was your age, anybody over 16 was a grown-up and that’s how I knew Stan. Stanley was my oldest brother and on the day I was bawlin’ while mother dropped me off for my first day of school he was already put out out to work.
What? I guess he was (one, two three four…ten, twelve) about 14. Yes Sally, that’s too young to work in a factory these days but that’s how it was back then. Pappy ran off and left our mother with five boys to feed and Stanley quit school to keep the rent paid and his brothers fed. Fed most of the time.
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