N..... in the woodpile, con't.

His older sisters knew he was cute too. Though they would have preferred a younger sister to share in their play, they were pleased that they could count on him to pass for a younger sister. He even let hem dress him up in a skirt and a blouse, and put a scarf on his head. It was undoubtedly their indulgence and coddling that suckered him, and so he willingly went along with them when they went knocking on the neighbors’ doors. For him it was like a game of ’trick or treat’. When he was introduced as their new little sister and neighbors appeared delighted to see them, it meant that the costume in which they had decked him out had been a good choice. In their own way, or was it the way they had been taught, they were looking after him.

These games ended abruptly one night when the girls managed to hoist him out of his crib and carry him into their bedroom, to play house. The plan was to deposit him in the family heirloom cradle that was used for their dolls, but he kept trying to wriggle and squirm out. They knew that they had gone too far when it didn’t help to strap him in place, and he began to cry.

Gradually the tactic he adopted to avoid subservience was to go literally into a spin. By rapidly pirouetting with extended fists, his arms were quickly transformed into invisible blades. Anyone who ventured into the circumference of this human fan risked mutilation.