Excersise 3

My brother was always my best friend when I was a child, especially as we two were almost alone in the world. We lived with our old grandmother in a little house, almost a shack, in the country. Whenever I think of him now I see a solemn, responsible boy, a boy too old for his years who looked out for me no matter what. Once there was a bully, John Anson, who looked enormous to me though he was probably an average twelve-year-old. John had it in for me because he liked Littice Grant who liked me. He decided to beat me up right before her eyes. I was lucky my brother came by, he didn't interfere any. He just stood there, somehow, though his presence gave me confidence I licked the stuffing out of John Anson. If my brother hadn't been there I don't think I could have done it.