That’s what I was thinking. When my brother was nine, mom would tell him to go out and not come back ‘til dinner time — and to take his little sister (me) with him.
When I was 9, we lived on an island and I was expected to swim across a raging torrent (with my little brother on my back) just to get to school. If we got home before ten, our parents would beat us and then force us to memorize an entire dictionary page. I was an unhappy child but a great swimmer with an excellent vocabulary (my brother, alas, slipped off one day and drowned- but he was a good speller)