By Mical Schneider
To flee the Irish potato famine of the 1840s, twelve-year-old Annie and her brother to migrate to ny urban the place they subscribe to their older sister as servants, getting cash to convey the remainder of their kinfolk to the US, the place they observe that either foodstuff and hardships abound.
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Extra resources for Annie Quinn in America
Eh, Thomas,” she said, “when I bought this shirt in the Bowery, the shopkeeper said that, though it was ready-made, it would fit a boy your age. ” She brushed Thomas’s hair so that it stayed flat and out of his eyes. Bridget turned to Annie. “No one touches a hair on the noble head of a Fianna,” Annie said, but she let herself be led to the lit tle mirror that hung above the dresser. Bridget brushed Annie’s hair back and tried to trap the strands that curled around her face like tiny flames. She rested her chin on Annie’s head so that the mirror showed a stack of faces, the creamy one on top with wide blue eyes and a playful smile.
On the small bureau, the blue pitcher and basin were smooth and cool, and the fringe on the wool shawl folded over the rocker stirred in the breeze. Best of all, the room smelled of lavender. ” Annie said and breathed deeply. She crossed to the little window and leaned out. ” “Beyond the trees and past the church steeple,” Bridget said. ” 62 8 The next morning, while Thomas struggled with his sus penders, Annie tied her plain cotton apron over Bridget’s hand-me-down black frock. Her new woolen stockings itched, but when she wiggled her toes in Bridget’s old, high-topped shoes, they had plenty of room.
All different sizes of kettles and pots boiled on the burners. A few puffed steam, and others rattled their lids. A large woman in a white cap and apron raised a ladle from one of the pots. “Mrs. Cox,” Bridget said. “This is my sister, Annie, and my brother, Thomas. ” Mrs. Cox puckered her lips, blew the steam aside, and sipped the broth. With her eyes squeezed shut, she said, “More salt,” and dropped the ladle back into the pot. She stepped forward and let her small black eyes dart over Annie’s face, her clothes, her hands, and her unstitched shoes.