After the Rain: My America 2 (2 page)

On this day, every year, we Americans will stop work and thank God for our blessings.

November 24, 1864

Today Jed and Pa stayed home to celebrate the Day of Thanksgiving.

Jed said that over 100,000 turkeys and chickens are to be served to General Grant's army today. We do not have enough money for a turkey. Lately, we are mostly eating beans for dinner, beans with a bit of bread.

While we ate our beans today, Jed talked again about President Lincoln's safety. He says the President must have more bodyguards.

While Jed worried about President Lincoln, I worried about Jane Ellen. During dinner, she became ill and had to lie down.

While I worried about Jane Ellen, Pa worried about keeping his job as a woodcutter. He fears he is not strong enough.

I hope God forgives us for not being very thankful this Thanksgiving.

November 30, 1864

Though none of us seems happy, we do have a daily routine now. Every morning Pa and Jed leave for work. Jane Ellen gives me two hours of lessons. Then she and I sew, clean, and cook. If she feels well, we shop in the market.

In the afternoon, Jane Ellen lies down, while I study my lessons.

The sky grows gray quite early, and our rooms become cold and damp. While Jane

Ellen sleeps, I sometimes feel that something awful is about to happen. I try to shake off the feeling by singing.

My spirits lift when Jane Ellen lights the lamps, and Pa and Jed come home.

December 1, 1864

Something bad has happened. It is not truly awful, though, for no one has died. Pa hurt his back chopping wood. Jed had to help him home and put him to bed.

"Now what can I do?" is all Pa can say.

"Now what can I do?"

December 3, 1864

Jane Ellen and I tried to feed Pa today. But he said he could not eat. He is in despair. He
f
ears he will not be able to do any kind of work for many days. Pa said we made a mistake in moving to Washington City. This made Jed feel bad. He left the house, even though it was raining.

Jane Ellen felt ill and went to bed.

I am sitting alone in the cold, damp parlor, shivering from worry. "Now what can J do?" I keep asking myself.

December 4, 1864

I have the answer. I will find work. Why not? Jane Ellen is too tired to give me lessons every day. We are too poor for me to go to school.

Tomorrow I will look in the
Evening Star
for a job for a ten-year-old girl. I dare not tell anyone until I find something I can do.

December
6, 1864

Each night I study the newspaper that Jed brings home.

I have only seen ads for errand boys, newspaper boys, and stable boys. Is there nothing for girls?

December 7, 1864

Today I finally saw an ad looking for a girl.

It said "Girl for General Housework."

I would rather run errands, sell newspapers, or take care of horses any day than do general housework. But I have no choice.

When Pa and Jane Ellen take their afternoon naps, I will hurry to the house on Pennsylvania Avenue and apply for the job.

I will pretend to be a lady when I am interviewed. I will try to use the manners my
mother would have used. Pa always says my mother was a lovely lady, a real Southern belle.

Later afternoon

I have a job!

I went to a beautiful house with stone steps. A widow named Mrs. Porter lives there. Though she has two servants already, she needs a girl to do light housekeeping. She will pay fifty cents a day!

I told her that I was the girl for the job. I said it simply, but without any doubt. I spoke in a most polite, but firm way.

Mrs. Porter laughed and said she liked my manners and my confidence.

Now I must use that confidence to tell the others about my new job. I am waiting for Pa and Jane Ellen to wake up from their naps, and for Jed to come home.

Late evening

Pa said no. Jane Ellen said no. Jed said no, too.

After they'd all said no, I gathered them together. I reminded them that I am not a child. I reminded them that I am a girl who has seen the Battle of Gettysburg. I am a girl who has ridden a horse through the torn countryside and who has visited war hospitals.

They
must
let me work for Mrs. Porter -- or they will insult my courage and my dignity, I said.

Pa, Jed, and Jane Ellen all looked at one another and started to laugh.

What could they say after my speech but yes?

December
8, 1864

Today I dusted and ironed for Mrs. Porter. I sewed a torn pocket and darned a sock.

Mrs. Porter's house has a beautiful parlor and sitting room, gas and water, a large yard, an icehouse, and a carriage house. She has two funny cats named Isabel and Lydia. They scamper everywhere and like to sleep in her lap.

Mrs. Porter is very kind. She laughs a lot and moves about like a busy bee.

I am happy. I confess I prefer working in Mrs. Porter's bright, warm house to sitting alone in our cold parlor.

December 12, 1864

I love walking to Mrs. Porter's house in the early morning. The paper says it is the coldest

December for many years, but I don't mind.

The city air crackles with excitement.

Through the lamp
lit dark, newsboys shout out, "Extra! Extra! Sherman marching through Georgia!"

Carriage horses clippity-clop over the rough cobblestones. Geese waddle. Goats and hogs wander about in the early mist.

Soon the gas lamps all go out. The bright cold sun rises over Washington City. And a fresh new day is revealed, like a new child, alive and kicking.

December 13, 1864

Jed told me that when I walk to work, I should keep an eye out for President Lincoln's carriage. He is often seen riding about the city with his son, Tad.

How will I recognize the carriage? I asked.

Jed said the President travels with about thirty soldiers on horseback. Their sabers are drawn and held over their shoulders.

Jed said that the guard was posted against President Lincoln's wishes. The President pays no mind to the fact he has many enemies.

There are even days, Jed said, when the President carelessly rides out in the open, on the back of his own gray horse. Young Tad rides by his side.

Oh, I would give anything to see President Lincoln and Tad ride down the street on horseback!

December 14, 1864

Each day my job gets better. Mrs. Porter likes me to read to her. I love to read, so this is
a joy for me as well. Sometimes I read from the Bible. Or I read from William Shakespeare or Sir Walter Scott.

When I get home, I try to cheer everyone by telling them the news of my day. I even tell them about the stories I read to Mrs. Porter.

December 16, 1864

Yesterday I began reading
Swiss Family Robinson
to Mrs. Porter. I must say it is an exciting story.

At home, Pa is still unable to move about. Jane Ellen is growing bigger and still feels sick. Jed is restless about his work, aching to go to Georgia to gather news stories about General Sherman.

Tonight I tried to cheer them all by telling them about
Swiss Family Robinson.
I told them we were not unlike the Robinson family,
washed up on a strange shore. We must try to make the best of everything. After all, we at least have a roof over our heads and beans every night for dinner.

December 17, 1864

Tonight I told everyone more about
Swiss Family Robinson.
That brave family has just moved into a tree house! They are planting gardens and hunting and fishing. That should give us strength, I said. If they can survive on a desert island, we can surely survive in Washington City!

Jane Ellen laughed and said I should have been a preacher. She said I am very inspiring.

December
18, 1864

Soon I will tell my family new stories -- stories about Mrs. Porter's grandchildren! They are coming to visit from New York City for the Christmas holidays. I can hardly wait. I confess I have missed being with other children. These days I feel more like a grown-up than a ten-year-old girl.

December 19, 1864

Hurrah! Tomorrow Robert, Sarah, and Eliza Porter will arrive. Sarah and Eliza are eleven-year-old twins, and Robert is my age. Their father is an important lawyer in New York City.

I cannot wait to hear about their life and tell them all about mine. I can tell them about
the Battle of Gettysburg and about Jed, Pa, and Jane Ellen.

I might even tell them that my mother was a Southern belle. I'll tell them she lived in Virginia, and she had two younger brothers whom I've never met. Those brothers might be fighting for the Confederacy now! My uncles could be Rebs, imagine! I'll tell them.

Maybe they'll invite me to visit them in New York City. I feel that tomorrow is the beginning of a great new adventure.

December 20, 1864

I did not actually get to visit with the Porter children today. I was dusting when they arrived. They did not speak to me. They were so excited to see their grandmother. They ran through the house shouting and laughing and
chasing the cats. Their pretty mother wore a fur coat. The father and Robert wore handsome cloaks. Sarah and Eliza wore ribbons in their long, shiny hair.

Mrs. Porter introduced them to me. But they did not seem to take notice. Surely that was because they were so excited to see their grandmother.

December 21, 1864

It snowed last night.

I only briefly laid eyes on the Porter children today. They left early with their parents. They rode off in a sleigh with bells. When they returned, I heard Robert telling Mrs. Porter all about the Monticello Dining Room. They had ice cream and sugar cookies there.

The girls told her about shopping at
DeLarue's. They bought lilac ribbons for their hair and Paris kid gloves.

Again, they did not seem to take notice of me. When Robert ran down the hall, chasing the cats, I laughed. But I couldn't seem to catch his eye. When he bumped into me, he did not even say "pardon."

I felt like a girl made of air.

December 22, 1864

Today I felt again as if I were made of air. The Porter children moved about me, never catching my eye.

Is this how all servants feel? What about slaves? I cannot imagine how slaves must feel. Why, what if the Porter children "owned" me! They might even beat me, if I didn't do what they wanted!

My heart was heavy when I came home. I
did not talk to my family at all. Our rooms seem shabbier than ever.

Poison has entered my heart. I wish to be one of the Porter children and not myself.

And why not? Ice cream and sugar cookies are far better than beans. And I would love lilac ribbons for my hair.

December 23, 1864

Today the Porter children sat in the dining room while I polished the silver in the parlor. They ate preserved peaches and pears. They talked about their great adventure last night. They went to Ford's New Theatre and saw
Rip Van Winkle.
They talked about how funny and amazing it was. None of them spoke a word to me.

When I came home, I was quite cross. At dinner, I sighed and said I wish I could see a
play at Ford's New Theatre someday. Pa said it cost too much to go to the theater. I blurted out that I was sick to death of being poor.