The stationmaster sauntered around the counter and spoke to Ethan. “Where you going, boy?”
“To the county ’sylum. Is this it?”
“Tarnation!” exclaimed the stationmaster. “Orphans! Who sent them out alone this far? And on a day like this?”
“’Tweren’t their folks, I reckon,” the conductor commented. Then he turned to Ethan. “Does anyone at the Home know you’re coming?”
Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. Is this the place?”
Simon suddenly found his voice. “Are the cows out in back?”
Before any of the men could answer, the woman spoke. “Those children are soaked to the hide. Isn’t anyone going to dry them off before they shake to death?”
Indeed the four of them were shivering, and Will’s teeth chattered.
The stationmaster led them over to the stove in the corner. “Stand here and dry off a bit,” he instructed. “This isn’t the Home, but I suppose someone will have to see that you get there.”
The children huddled around the heat, and Ethan listened as the men debated their immediate future.
“I got to get that trolley back on the road,” Del insisted. “We can’t do anything about them.”
“Well, I can’t leave here until closing time.” The stationmaster scratched his head. “I could show ’em the way, but they can’t walk in this. Botheration! Guess they’ll have to stay here until I lock up. I can drop ’em off on my way home.”
Will tugged on Ethan’s jacket. “Hungry.”
“We’ll have to wait until we get to the Home,” Ethan told him. “Rachel says they have lots of good food there.”
At the mention of Rachel, Alice burst into tears, and Will began to wail with her. Simon’s lower lip trembled, and Ethan hurried to calm the storm.
“Hey … don’t worry. We’ll be there pretty soon, and you’ll like it. Remember the animals and the garden? If you keep howling like that, we’ll get put out in the rain. At least we’re warm in here.”
“Tarnation,” Del muttered as he dug into his pocket. “Here, boy. You can have this nickel back. You didn’t take up much space.” He pulled a packet out of his slicker. “I don’t need no lunch. Too late to eat it now, anyway. Feed the little kids there.”
Ethan gratefully accepted the offering, and the Coopers were soon munching on big sandwiches, pickles, and cookies. The woman departed with the trolley, and the stationmaster was left to oversee his unusual customers.
Ethan had no problem keeping an eye on his sister and brothers during the long, wet afternoon. They were too awed by the strange circumstances to move around the station, and when they spoke to each other, it was in whispers. As for Ethan, his best imagination couldn’t picture the home and life that lay ahead of them. He waited patiently for the station to close and the trip to Briarlane to begin.
The children watched with interest as the wagon covered the distance between the trolley station and the edge of town. Their guide, the stationmaster, pointed out the landmarks with the wagon whip.
“That there’s the county seat.”
Ethan stared in wonder at the three-story brick building. It didn’t look like a seat to him, but this man must know.
“Here’s your schoolhouse. You been to school yet?”
“Yes, sir. But Alice hasn’t. She can write her name and say her letters, though,” he hastened to add. “Ma taught her.”
On the outskirts of Briarlane, the wagon stopped in the road that ran past another large brick building. An arched sign over the entrance proclaimed Briarlane Christian Children’s Home.
“Is this the ’sylum?” Ethan asked.
“Yep.”
Ethan slid off the wagon seat and dropped to the ground. Clutching the flour sack, he surveyed his new home while the stationmaster lifted his sister and his little brothers from the wagon. Fields stretched as far as he could see around the building, but large trees shaded the yard. It seemed a long way to walk from the road to the broad steps that led to the front door of the Home.
The sun was sinking behind the roof, and Ethan’s heart sank with it. But he mustn’t let the others know. They depended on him. So once again he straightened his shoulders and tried to look in charge.
“Take Simon’s hand, Alice,” he told his sister, “and I’ll hold Will.” To the stationmaster he added, “Thank you, sir. We’ll be fine now.”
Chapter Three
The Briars
Most of the residents of Briarlane referred to the county children’s home as “that shabby old building at the edge of town.”
Shabby was evidently in the eye of the beholder, for Ethan Cooper was sure they were approaching a palace. The closer they came to the big front door, the slower Ethan walked. Could this really be the place Russell had told them about? Ethan had never seen a building so grand. Surely they wouldn’t be able to live here! He grasped Will’s hand tighter and pulled the little boy up the steps. Should they open the door and walk in, or did one knock at such a place?
The decision was made for him as Simon stood on tiptoe and grabbed a round handle in the center of the door. A sharp bell rang in response, and the little boy dropped the handle and ducked behind his brother. Ethan was frightened but held his ground. After all, where could they go now?
He heard the echo of the clanging bell. Then voices sounded clearly through the heavy door.
“Who has door duty this week?”
“I do. I’m going.”
Running footsteps sounded, and the door was jerked open. A girl of about twelve stared with an open mouth at the group arranged before her, unattended by any adult.
“Where’d you come from?” the girl blurted. She scanned the road. “Who brought you?”
“I did,” Ethan replied.
“You never! How old are you?” Blue eyes challenged Ethan.
“I’m eight years old, and I did so!” Ethan was indignant. Maybe they wouldn’t let them stay, but he wasn’t going to have his word doubted.
“Who is it, Shala?” a soft voice asked from the hallway.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Lehman. There’s four of them, and a boy says he brought them.”
“Well, bring them in and close the door.”
Shala stepped back, allowing the children to come into the warm hallway.
Ethan gazed around in awe. Straight ahead a wide staircase led to the upper floor. He could hear feet running and voices calling to one another. The aroma of fresh bread wafted from the back of the building. Suddenly Ethan realized that he was terribly hungry.
His heart pounded as he looked at the lady standing before them. What if there was no room for them? Or worse yet, what if this lady didn’t want them? He might get along all right, but what would happen to the others? For the first time that day, Ethan felt real fear.
“You’ve come by yourselves?” the soft voice asked.
“Yes, ma’am. We came on the trolley, and the man from the station brought us here. Is this the ’sylum?”
“This is the children’s home, yes. You are just in time for supper. Shala, take them up to Matron to get ready. We’ll talk after you’ve eaten.” She put her hand gently on Ethan’s shoulder and smiled at him. “What are your names?”
“I’m Ethan. This is Alice and Simon and Will.”
The woman nodded. “I’m Mrs. Lehman. Matron will take care of you. Run along now.”
Shala tossed her head and marched down the hallway with her nose in the air. “You can follow me if you want to.” Her stiff back proclaimed clearly that these strangers weren’t her problem. Being on door duty didn’t mean she was responsible for what came through it.
When Ethan and his siblings returned to the main floor with Matron for supper, the long tables in the dining room seemed crowded with children of all ages. It was a bewildering sight. The Cooper family shrank
back against the door as twenty-six pairs of eyes turned toward them.
The lady with the soft voice came to their rescue. “We have a surprise tonight, everyone. Here are four more children come to stay. Bert, will you come and take Ethan to your table? And Betsy, make room for Alice next to you. Simon and Will may sit with Matron tonight.”
A freckle-faced boy grinned cheerfully and led Ethan to a seat. Alice went with Betsy, and Matron shepherded the two little boys to a table. Everyone became silent, and with her head bowed, the lady spoke again.
“Lord, thank You for this day and for the rain that has blessed the earth. You have given us this food, and we are grateful. Bless the new children who have come to be with us. We welcome them in Your name. Amen.”
Large bowls of soup, thick with meat and vegetables, were ladled out. Slices of bread and butter were passed around. And wonder of wonders, every child had a mug of cold milk!
Alice glanced furtively around the table, and then Ethan heard her ask Betsy, “Can we eat all this, or must we save some for tomorrow?”
“You eat it all. You can have more if you want it. We have lots of food here. We grow our own gardens.”
This was hard to believe. The garden at home had never produced a meal like this. Ethan ate gratefully, and from the look of it, his siblings did too.
By the time supper was over, Will had fallen asleep with his head on the table. Matron picked him up.
“You come with us,” she said to Simon. “Betsy, take Alice up to the girls’ room. Ethan, Mr. Lehman will see you in the office. Bert will take you there.”
Ethan watched anxiously as his brothers and sister were led away, and then he followed Bert down the long hallway and into the office. Mrs. Lehman sat in a chair, and Mr. Lehman stood at his desk studying the letter Rachel had put in the flour sack with their clothes.
Ethan waited patiently as Mr. Lehman read aloud.
Dear Sir,
Our pa has left us, and us older ones can’t take care of the little ones any longer. They are good and won’t be any trouble.
Ethan Allen, born November 17, 1898
Alice Carol, born July 24, 1901
Simon Peter, born April 24, 1903
William Andrew, born June 22, 1904
Rachel Cooper
“This doesn’t tell us much,” George Lehman said. “We’ll have to try and locate the father. If the past is any indication, he’ll probably arrange it so that he can’t be located.”
Mrs. Lehman sighed. “I’m thankful that we have room. We don’t usually get them four at a time. It’s hard to believe that child took charge of bringing them here.”
She spoke as though Ethan were invisible, and he listened with growing apprehension. They would be allowed to stay tonight, but would they be sent away tomorrow? There were a lot of children around the tables in the dining room. What if they only had room for some of the Cooper family?
No, Ethan decided. If we can’t all stay, I’ll take everyone back home. How this was to be accomplished, he didn’t know, but his mind was made up. They had already lost half their family. Nothing was going to separate the rest of them.
Mr. Lehman smiled at Ethan as he stood in front of the desk. “Well, young man, I hear that you’ve brought your brothers and sister to the Briars by yourself. That was a long trip to make alone.”
“Yes, sir,” Ethan answered. “But I can take care of them. They depend on me. I’ll see that they behave if you’ll let us stay.”
“Certainly you may stay,” Mr. Lehman assured him, “and you’ll have help looking after them. Now, you’ve had a long day. Bert will show you where you’ll sleep, and tomorrow we’ll get better acquainted.”
The long room in which the older boys slept was furnished with a cot and a small cupboard for each child. Ethan was assigned a bed next to Bert, who seemed delighted to have a new friend his own age.
“I’ll show you around tomorrow,” Bert promised. “This place is pretty nice when you ain’t got no family to stay with.”
Ethan fell asleep at once.
Several hours later, though, he awoke with a start and studied the strange room. The beds on his side held junior boys. On the opposite wall, five older boys’ beds were lined up. Simon and Will weren’t in this room. If they wake, Ethan thought, they’ll be frightened. Neither one had ever slept alone in a bed.
Carefully Ethan padded across the hallway to the little boys’ room. There he found that Simon had crawled into bed with Will. Ethan pulled the covers over both of them. For tonight they were taken care of.
Chapter Four
Eugenia Quincy’s Sudden Fancy
Mrs. Eugenia Quincy shifted restlessly in her pew. She wished that Patterson, her husband, wouldn’t insist on attending this simple little chapel every Sunday. There was a perfectly beautiful church in town that was so much more respectable. The wheezy pump organ here was highly inferior to the magnificent instrument at St. Jerome’s. And the people … well, she wouldn’t even think about the people. No one in her social set would dream of worshipping in a place like this.
The subject had come up yesterday evening.
“Patterson, I don’t understand why we can’t attend St. Jerome’s services with all our friends,” she had said.
“I know you don’t,” Patterson had replied. “That’s why I’ve given up trying to explain it to you.”
“Really, you are most annoying. You’ve been offered a position as deacon at St. Jerome’s, and you turned it down to usher in that dreary Briarlane chapel! Do you honestly feel that place befits your station in life?”
“Why, yes, my dear. I’ve attended the chapel since I was a child, and it hasn’t hindered my reaching this ‘station in life,’ as you call it. In fact, I would say that I’ve been helped tremendously over the years. I owe a great deal to that little church.”
“Hmmph. They owe a great deal to you, if you ask me. They certainly couldn’t pay the minister if you didn’t contribute. Most of the congregation comes from that orphanage, and everyone knows how much money they have. I would think that serving as president of the board at the Briars would be enough sacrifice for you to make.”
Patterson had gone back to his paper, but Eugenia hadn’t finished speaking her mind.
“I’m certainly in favor of charitable work, but must it be something so … so religious?”
“I would hardly call teaching Christian values to children too religious,” her husband replied. “It seems highly superior to having them grow up on the streets.”
“Of course I have nothing against good moral training for them. It’s right to be interested in their spiritual welfare. But does it have to take over your whole life?”
A glance at his face told Eugenia she had ventured far enough. It was time to back down. “Oh, never mind. You just don’t understand how I feel. But we won’t discuss it any further.”
“Thank you, Eugenia. You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that.”
And so this Sunday morning, they were seated near the front of the chapel as the children and staff from the Home filed into their seats across the aisle. Eugenia watched them listlessly, as she did each week. The boys wore denim pants and white shirts, and the girls were attired in light-blue dresses covered with crisp white pinafores. Each child resembled the others. She wondered idly if they had individual names at least.
Suddenly Eugenia sat up and clutched her husband’s arm. “Look at that perfectly gorgeous child! The one sitting next to Matron Daly. I haven’t seen him before. Does he belong there?”
Patterson squinted toward the group. “That must be one of the new children who came last week. George Lehman mentioned that four more arrived. All one family, I think.”
The congregation rose at that moment to begin the service, and Eugenia could say nothing more. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the sturdy ch
ild. His dark hair lay in waves across his forehead, and his wide gaze took in his new surroundings. When the organ began to play, his attention was riveted on it.
As she watched the boy throughout the service, Eugenia daydreamed. After twelve years of marriage, she and Patterson had no children. This was of little concern to Eugenia, for her life seemed complete with the social affairs that filled her days. As the wife of Briarlane’s foremost judge and mistress of the most elegant house in town, Eugenia spent her time at literary-club meetings, fund-raising activities, teas, and parties.
Now it occurred to her that a child like that could enhance her position in Briarlane. Certainly none of her friends had one like him. Their children tended to be noisy, fussy, and ill-mannered. She pictured herself accompanied about town by this small object of perfection. He would be dressed in the latest fashion in a white suit and shoes that buttoned up the sides. He would walk quietly beside her and greet her friends politely. She would see that he had the latest books and toys to entertain him.
By the time the service ended, Eugenia Quincy had mentally embarked upon motherhood and was enjoying her new standing in town.
It seemed to take forever to bow to the other parishioners and wait for Patterson to finish visiting with all his friends. At last they were seated in their limousine and headed for home.
“Patterson, I must have that little boy!”
Her husband turned a startled gaze in her direction. “You must have what?”
“The child who has come to the Briars,” Eugenia said impatiently. “The one I pointed out to you before the service. I want you to see about getting him immediately.”
He regarded her as though she had taken leave of her senses. “Eugenia, you can’t be serious! You know nothing about that child. We aren’t acquainted with his background or his family. We don’t even know that he’s available for adoption. How have you reached this decision when you’ve only seen him for less than an hour—and that from across the church?”
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