past the fatherly spankings and other parental punishments, because I loved her and agreed that I was not as cleaver as she.
             Once Rex hit me. I deserved it, because I vented stupid petulance on my helpless little brother David. He was perhaps a year old, and I was twelve. We¡d all left the lunch table for the living room and had left him sitting alone in his high chair, and Father spotted him through the big doors and asked me to get him down. I felt sulky about something, and angered, and I stamped back to the table and pulled up the wooden tray that held the baby in his chair, and dumped him out insolently on the floor. David did not even cry out, but Rex saw it and in a flash leapt across the living room towar
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