Both of them have an overdose of temperament and need a guardian with an iron hand.

And both have a way about them.
"Likely, after the wind was so pitifully out of his sails I could have dragged him up the hill home but if he has the notion of escape in his head, he'd go again.
"After a good deal of talk, friendly and otherwise, we took turns at the searchlight and wrote, each of us, a letter to his sister, I in a sense seeking to guarantee a respectability I do not look or feel since I am a truant myself with an indifferent amount of worldly goods.
However, I couldn't help thinking how she'd worry and I promised to see him through.
"He's asleep now under my blanket, catching his breath at intervals like a youngster who's carried heartbreak into his sleep.

Poor kid! I suppose he has.

I've promised him to be on the road before daybreak.
"He'll have to work his way, but that, of course, will be good for him.
What pennies I have I'm obliged to count with a provident eye.

I've added to 'em from time to time along the road.