Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 9 (2/5) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/5), (2/5), (3/5), (4/5), (5/5). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3.

Snelgrove had done nothing to deserve inclusion. Even if he were not going to pick George or myself, Snelgrove was the least deserving person in the whole orphanage, let alone in our class. His selection must have been intended to hurt me even more, I was sure of it. Rodgers knew the boy was my worst enemy and how much he loved to taunt me. 'The rest of you will report to Mrs Grainger tomorrow lunchtime. There are lots of cleaning jobs that need doing.' He pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat and checked it. It was past four o'clock. He must have known this intuitively. We all did.

'Class dismissed.' The only pleasant surprise of the whole afternoon was that Jolly Rodgers didn't stay behind to enjoy the sight of us trooping dejectedly from the room.

'I'll ask Mr Rodgers if you can go instead of me.' Sal's face was determined. 'No, Sal!' I touched her arm. 'It'll do no good. He might stop you going out of spite for asking.' 'He's right,' George chimed in. 'We'll do what we decided an' go down there to sell programmes.'

I nodded in agreement. 'It's probably best that we go by ourselves anyway. If we went with t'others the teachers would be watching us all the time.' I continued nodding in agreement with myself. 'This way I'll be able to get to see me father.' 'I'd better go an' help Mrs G with getting supper ready.' Sal left us in the yard to plot how we were going to make our escape the next morning.

Our early arrival for breakfast must have taken Mrs G by surprise. George and I were renowned for our tardiness in the mornings, especially at weekends. We were determined to have a good tuck in. We didn't know when we would eat again. 'Better not eat too much ...' I whispered to George, scoffing his second bowl of near solid porridge. '... or we'll not be able to walk!'

I looked up from my half-eaten second helping and noticed Sal behind the serving table. She was gesturing to us, indicating for us to go across to her. 'What's Sal wanting?' George asked.

'You stay here, George. I'll go an' see what she wants.' I walked across to her with my bowl in hand and pretended to ask for another refill of soggy oats. She maintained the pretence by ladling tiny amounts into my bowl. 'You two'll be needing some't to eat later.' She was whispering, conscious of Mrs G only a few feet away. 'Get round to the kitchen door. There's a little parcel wrapped in some newspaper. Some bread and a bit of cheese.'

My mouth opened but she stopped me expressing thanks. 'Get round there quick afore the cat gets it!' I went back to our table with little more porridge in my bowl than before and hurriedly told George what she said. We gobbled up the last of our food, washing it down with tea before sidling out of the room in the direction of the kitchen. George tucked the small parcel into his jacket and we scurried back to our dormitory. Being early for breakfast meant everyone else was still eating in the dining room leaving the bedroom free for us.

Continued... Next Page

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