And while I said it, the notion slowly dawning during the long gaze he had complained of, forced itself upon me, clear as daylight, that he was not a "boy" any longer.
"Now let me turn the tables.

How old are YOU, John ?" "You know.

Eighteen next week." "And how tall ?" "Five feet eleven inches and a half." And, rising, he exhibited to its full advantage that very creditable altitude, more tall perhaps than graceful, at present; since, like most youths, he did not as yet quite know what to do with his legs and arms.

But he was-- I cannot describe what he was.

I could not then.