Leprechaun in Late Winter (3 page)

“Thanks!” said Jack.

The large wooden wheels of the wagon rumbled past, splashing Jack and Annie with mud.

“Yuck!” said Annie.

“Now we’re cold and wet and
dirty
,” said Jack.

“Yeah, we’re going to look great when we get to the Big House,” said Annie.

“So what do we do when we get there?” asked Jack.

“When we find Augusta, maybe we tell her that Teddy and Kathleen sent us,” said Annie, “like we told Louis Armstrong in New Orleans.”

Just thinking about their adventure with Louis Armstrong made Jack smile. “I don’t know if that will work,” he said. “His world seemed so different from this world. There it was so noisy and busy. Here it feels lonely.”

“Well, we won’t know until we find Augusta,” said Annie. “Let’s go.”

Jack and Annie lowered their heads. They plodded up the lane, sloshing in and out of giant puddles. When they reached the top of the hill, they stopped. The muddy lane wound down, past more sheep meadows and some cottages, past a long stable and several barns.

At the end of the lane was a large open gate that led onto the grounds of a white mansion. Gray smoke rose from the mansion’s chimneys.

“The Big House!” said Annie.

“Maybe the people who live there will invite us inside to get warm and dry by a fire,” said Jack.

Jack and Annie started down the lane. As they passed the sheep meadows, black-and-white dogs barked at them. When they walked by several boys hauling wet hay, the workers looked up and eyed them suspiciously.

Jack was relieved to get to the gate and head toward the Big House. When they reached the front door, Annie lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop.

A moment later, the door opened. A pale teenage girl looked out. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Uh … well …,” started Jack.

“Are you the ones the butler sent for?” the girl asked.

“The butler?” said Jack.

“Yes, we are!” said Annie.

“Then you should go round to the
back
!” the girl said. Before Jack or Annie could ask for Augusta, the girl slammed the door in their faces.

“Nice,” said Jack.

“I hope
she
wasn’t Augusta,” said Annie.

“Why did you tell her ‘yes’?” asked Jack.

“It’s a way to get inside the Big House,” said Annie. “Come on.”

Jack and Annie tramped through the mud to the back of the mansion. They stopped at a door beneath a large smoking chimney. Annie knocked again.

This time a young red-haired girl in a cap and apron opened the door. “Yes?” she said.

“Is your name—” started Annie.

“Who is it, Molly?” someone called from inside.

Molly? So
she’s
not Augusta
, thought Jack.

“Who are you?” Molly asked them.

“We’re the ones the butler sent for,” said Annie.

“You?” said Molly. She looked doubtful. “Well, come in and see him then.”

Jack and Annie stepped inside.

“He’s in the kitchen,” said Molly. She started down the hall.

Jack and Annie followed Molly to the doorway of a dimly lit kitchen. The kitchen smelled of fish and onions. Pots and pans hung from a long rack over a big wooden table. A stout older woman was bent over the table, rolling out dough.

“Cook, here are the ones the butler sent for,” said Molly.

The cook looked up from her dough and squinted at Jack and Annie. “
You’re
the ones he sent for?” she said.

“Uh, yes, ma’am, that’s us,” said Annie.

The cook turned toward the fireplace. Next to
the fire an ancient-looking man with white whiskers sat slumped in a chair, snoring. “Mr. O’Leary!”

The old man jerked and opened his eyes.

“The ones you sent for are here!” the cook shouted, as if the man were hard of hearing.

The groggy butler peered at Jack and Annie. “I sent for
you
?” he growled. “Not possible! I sent for a coach driver and a blacksmith.”

“Really?” said Annie. “I guess there was a mistake. But maybe there are some other jobs we could do around here.”

“Well, what are you good for?” asked the butler.

“What do you mean?” said Jack.

“Do you know how to sweep the inside of a chimney?” said the old man.

“Um … no,” said Jack.

“Pluck a chicken?” the cook asked.

“No way,” said Annie.

“What about rats?” the butler said.

“What about them?” asked Jack.

“They’re all over the cellar,” said the cook. “Can you catch ’em?”

“I—I don’t think so,” said Jack.

“Then you’re no good to us here!” snorted the butler. “Be on your way!”

At that moment, Jack heard the back door open and shut. A girl about Jack’s age stepped into the kitchen. She wore a red cape and carried two large, empty baskets. Her wet hair was parted neatly down the middle and pulled into a tight bun in the back.

“Ah!” said the cook. “Welcome back, Miss Augusta!”

J
ack and Annie looked at each other.
Augusta!

The girl put down her baskets and took off her wet cape.

“Did you deliver your cakes to the poor, Miss Augusta?” asked Molly.

“Yes, Molly,” said Augusta. “I visited seven cottages today.”

“Seven? In this weather? You’re an angel, Miss Augusta!” said Molly. “Always so kind to the poor.”

“It is my duty, Molly,” the girl said, “to help those less fortunate than myself.” Her gaze rested
on Jack and Annie. “And who are
these
poor children?”

“They’re looking for work, miss,” said the cook. “But I’m afraid they’re sorry creatures, not good for anything. I was just sending them away.”

“Oh, surely we must not turn them out so quickly, Cook,” said Augusta. “How tired and miserable they look.”

Jack didn’t think they looked
that
bad.

“We
are
tired and miserable,” Annie said. Her voice sounded sad. Her shoulders sagged.

Oh, brother
, Jack thought. Annie was really acting her part.

“My poor dears, you must both come into the parlor and rest a bit,” said Augusta.

“We would like that,” Annie said pitifully.

“Follow me,” said Augusta.

“Miss Augusta, surely you’re not taking those dirty children into the parlor!” said the cook.

“We must always be kind to the poor, Cook, no matter how dirty they are,” said Augusta. “We
should give them something to drink if they are thirsty, and something to eat if they are hungry.”

“You are
too
kind, Miss Augusta,” said Molly, shaking her head.

“Well, at least make them take off their filthy boots,” said the cook.

Jack and Annie pulled off their boots and socks and set them by the door. Their feet were red and raw-looking.

Augusta took two peeled potatoes from a bowl and put them in her pocket. Then she picked up a lit candle from the hearth. “Come, let me take you to the parlor,” she said to Jack and Annie.

“Thanks, Augusta,” said Annie.

“Show some respect!” the cook called after Annie. “Call her ‘
Miss
Augusta’!”

“Sorry!” said Annie. “Thanks,
Miss
Augusta.”

Jack rolled his eyes. Why should he call her ‘miss’? Augusta didn’t look like she was any older than he was!

Holding her flickering candle, Augusta led
Jack and Annie out of the kitchen. The wooden floor creaked as they walked barefoot through a narrow hallway.

How are we ever going to inspire this strange, serious girl?
wondered Jack.
She acts as if she’s already a grown-up and treats Annie and me like babies
.

“We’ll sit in here, children,” said Augusta. She directed Jack and Annie into a large room with heavy curtains and dark furniture. The pale teenage girl who’d answered the front door sat on a sofa, knitting. Another teenage girl knitted beside her. They scowled when they saw Jack and Annie.

“What are you doing, Augusta?” asked the pale girl. “Why are you bringing those two into the parlor?”

“I invited them to tea, Gertrude,” said Augusta. She turned to Jack and Annie. “Pay no attention to my sisters,” she said. “Please, sit down.”

“Augusta, have you gone mad?” said Gertrude.
“You cannot invite these two ragamuffins to sit in here!”

“Mother will be furious,” said Augusta’s other sister. “They’re filthy! They’re not even wearing shoes!”

Jack looked down at his muddy clothes and cold red feet.

“Cook made them remove their muddy shoes in the kitchen, Eliza,” Augusta said. “I only wish I had nice, dry shoes to give them. Sit down, children,” she said to Jack and Annie again.

Jack and Annie slowly sat down.

“You’re going to get into trouble, Augusta …,” said Gertrude.

“Mother will never approve,” said Eliza. Both sisters shook their heads as they went back to their knitting.

Augusta ignored her sisters and walked to a silver teapot on a sideboard. “Would you like some hot tea, my poor dears?” she asked Jack and Annie.

“Yes, Miss Augusta,” said Annie.

Jack nodded. Hot tea sounded good. He still felt chilled from the cold wind and rain. There was a fireplace in the dreary parlor, but no fire was lit. Everything in the room seemed dark and gloomy, except for a few books on a table.

As Augusta poured tea into fancy china cups, Jack leaned closer to get a look at the books. One was titled
The Plays of William Shakespeare
. Another was called
The Tales of King Arthur
. Jack smiled to himself. Seeing those book titles made him feel a little more comfortable.

Augusta carried cups of tea to Jack and Annie. Then she pulled the potatoes out of her pocket and gave one to each of them.

“Thank you, Miss Augusta,” said Annie.

Jack took a sip of tea, but it was too bitter and hot to drink. He took a bite of his cold potato, but it was too hard to chew.

“So, Miss Augusta, what do you like to do around here?” Annie asked. “What inspires you?”

Augusta looked puzzled. “I do not know what you mean,” she said.

“What about reading books?” said Jack. “Have you read those books?” He pointed to
The Tales of King Arthur
and
The Plays of William Shakespeare
.

“Those books belong to my brothers,” said Augusta.

“The time has not come for Augusta to read such books,” said her sister Gertrude.

“Not until she is older,” said her sister Eliza.

“Why?” asked Jack.

“Mother says
The Tales of King Arthur
and the plays of Shakespeare are not for young ladies,” said Augusta.

“Really?” said Jack.

“Yes. But I’m afraid I sometimes peek at my brothers’ books,” Augusta said to Jack and Annie in a low voice. “I love stories. I remember every story I read or hear.”

“I love stories, too,” said Annie. “And I love books.”

The two older sisters smiled. “Keep striving, my dear,” said Eliza. “Perhaps one day you will learn to read.”

“I already know how to read,” said Annie. “Jack and I read lots of books.” She pointed to the books on the table. “In fact, we know tons about
King Arthur, and we go see plays by Shakespeare with our parents. And one time, we even acted in a play by Shakespeare—
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
.”