Free Folly by Marthe Jocelyn Page A

with him, the only one who could be. "Give Mary what's hers and leave it to me to talk sense to the girl."
    Bates bowed and put the little twist on the table next to me. Eliza came up from the cellar just then, one hand holding BREAD AND BUTTER, the other holding DILLED.
    She glanced at Bates and gave the packet a bit of a glare, reminding me I wouldn't be telling her, either, where the sweets came from, not giving her the satisfaction after all her hints and nonsense.
    Eliza were staring at me, as were Nut, Mrs. Wiggins, and Bates. We finished the meal in utter silence. More of us than me, I am certain, were considering how a paper cone of candy might change my life.
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    ELIZA 1877 Getting Fed Up
    Eliza thought she might grind her own teeth to splinters by the end of that supper. Him giving her sweets out in front of everyone, that was as ill-mannered and hurtful as a fellow could think of. And nobody making so much as a comment of consolation to her after?
    Resentment itched Eliza. After her teaching Mary to be a proper tweenie--a maid between stairs, meaning up and down and everywhere in between ... covering her mistakes, of which there were plenty she could think of ... Imagine! Going at the grates without gloves! All the laundry lessons, all the nights in the same iron-posted bed ... Eliza wished Mary would have the courtesy to explain, or apologize, or flaunt even, so there'd be a natural reason to tear at her hair until it ripped right out.
    But to pretend the moment hadn't happened? That just burned Eliza's bonnet, that did.
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    JAMES 1884 Remember the Forsaken Poor
    James felt clever on Saturday night in the chapel, but come Sunday morning on the same spot, he didn't feel so clever anymore. On Saturday night, Mr. Chester had polished his round spectacles on his waistcoat and smiled at James with his crooked mouth before sending the bullies to the crypt and the little boys back to their beds.
    On Sunday morning, however, it was the Big Chaps who surrounded him before the service began.
    "You will pay for the rest of your days."
    That was what Tubbs said in James's ear, digging his knuckles deep into James's neck. Harvey Hooper rammed his hand under James's collar and let loose a fistful of salt, saved especially from the breakfast table.
    Those thick, tall boys slid away right quick. Quick as snakes, all gone. James saw why, with Mr. Byrd's eyes watching and Mr. Florence, the choirmaster, waiting. All
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    the masters stood in a special place, with the lady teachers from the girls' side too. Mr. Chester was there, but too far away to notice that those same menacing Big Chaps were at it again.
    James and the other Infants sat in the front row where he could mostly see only railing. The bench was hard. The boys behind must have had fire in their eyes because the heat on James's neck was most distracting. The boys behind were supposed to tell a master if any small foundling moved one bit during chapel. His eyeballs ached from holding in misery. He counted curses for distraction.
    Devil's fart.
    God's bum.
    He needed a new one. Or two. Something to do with ...
    Coram! Coram's skull!
    Coram's breath ... Yes, the crypt could supply an endless list!
    But then Mr. Florence tapped a stick on his music stand and the choir began to sing. There was a rush of air in James's ears like the whole huge chapel was fluttering with a thousand birds. His ears flew up higher and higher and he forgot to breathe. He looked at the other boys to see if they were marveling as he was, or if he was the only one who'd never heard such songs before. That was an hour he would remember, probably forever.
    The next hour too, but for a different reason.
    They lined up like always outside the boys' refectory.
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    They each were wearing a new Sunday collar, which James already hated; stiff, tickling thing.
    They marched slowly into the dining hall, in time with the striking mallet. James went to his place and stood behind the bench. This part he