I want to run and jump and climb with my brother
I am going to smile at my brother today.
Doodle was just about the craziest brother a boy ever had. Of course, he wasn't crazy like old Miss Leedie, who was in love with President Wilson and wrote him a letter every day but was a nice crazy, like someone you meet in your dreams. he was born when I was six and was, from the outset, a disappointment. He seemed all head, with a tiny body which was red and shriveled like an old man's.
My brother calls me Doodle
I thought myself pretty smart at many things, like holding my breath, running, jumping, or climbing the vines in Old Woman Swamp, and I wanted more than anything else someone to race to Horsehead Landing, someone to box with, and someone to perch within the top fork of the great pine behind the barn, where across the fields and swamps you could see the sea.
However, one afternoon as I watched him, my head poked between the iron posts of the foot of the bed, he looked straight at me and grinned. I skipped through the rooms, down the echoing halls, shouting, "Mama, he smiled. He's all there! He's all there!" and he was
When he crawled, he crawled backward, as if he were in reverse and couldn't change in gear. if you called him, he'd back right up to you to be picked up. Crawling backward made him look like a doodlebug so i began to call him doodle, and in time even Mama and Daddy thought it was a better name than William Armstrong.
One day I took him to the barn loft and showed him his casket, telling him how we all had believed he would die. it was covered with a film of Paris green sprinkled to kill the rats, and screech owls had built a nest inside it. Doodle was frightened to be left. "Don't leave me, brother," he cried, and he leaned toward the coffin. His hand, trembling, reached out, and when he touched the casket, he creamed. A screech owl flapped out of the box into our faces, scaring us and covering us with Paris green