cough. The cook happened to have some limes on hand and also gave her a small bundle of mullein, coltsfoot, and licorice, with instructions to mix one tablespoon in a cup of hot water. She told Casey she could find these herbs at the apothecary if she needed more. Grateful, Casey ran back home to give Sam the bounty.
He was glad to get it, and ate the pie in bed, and drank the toddy she'd made for him without any argument. As soon as she could, Casey ran out to get the next box of plaques. The landlady had them, as promised, so she swallowed her disappointment at not getting another glimpse of the handsome Mr. Andrews, and hurried on her way.
She didn't finish all the deliveries until the next morning. She stopped by to see Mr. Andrews about seven that evening, which was when the landlady said he'd probably be home.
He'd just arrived, and he gave her that fabulous smile when he saw her. "Hi Casey!" He moved aside so she could enter. "You've done a wonderful job. I heard from several people who were all happy to get their plaques so quickly. Hope you're not worn out!"
She laughed and shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Andrews. It was great running around all those pretty neighborhoods and meeting everyone. Nice people."
He gave her a curious look as he pulled her money from his pocket. Before handing it to her, he said, "I'll tell you, lad, you're really an enigma."
Her eyes widened. "Well, I don't mean to be, sir. What can I clear up for you?"
He sighed. "To start, I'd like to know how a street waif knows what an enigma is!"
Casey laughed again and shrugged. "I haven't always been a street waif. I used to go to school."
He looked thoughtful as he handed her the money. "You can read and write, what about your numbers?"
"Not my best subject, but I've had lots of math."
"Can I ask what you did before you started this illustrious career?"
She flushed, not wanting to lie to him any more than she already had, but plunged into the story she and Sam had concocted. "I was a student at home, but then my parents died and Sam thought it best I come to Belfast and stay with him. He was a good friend of my dad's, you see, and I had no other relatives." Casey's smile was small and tight. "But things got rough here, too, so Sam and I just go day to day, sort of." She made herself grin. "It'll get better, though. Nowhere to go but up."
Mr. Andrews studied her before speaking again, causing Casey to flush more under his gaze. "I'm wondering, Casey, if you'd be interested in a job. It's temporary, but it might give you the chance to come through the rough spot. Maybe about four to six months. My secretary is swamped and needs an assistant. It'd be a lot of running around, collecting information from various departments and helping with scheduling, paperwork, that kind of thing. The pay would be six shillings a week, eleven hours a day with a half hour for breakfast and lunch." He looked hopeful. "It's good work and I could give you a solid recommendation if you decide to go back to school."
Casey stammered, then gulped and nodded. "I'd sure like to, Mr. Andrews. That's…that's a wonderful offer."
His smile appeared again and this time, she shyly smiled back. He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Wonderful! You know where Harland & Wolff shipyard is?” At her nod, he went on, “Be at the gate on Queen’s Island at eight in the morning. Tell them you’re to see me. They’ll direct you. Mind ye, lad,” he spoke a bit sternly, “ye be on time. There’s no slacking possible!”
“Yes sir! Thank you, sir!” Casey nearly saluted, but thought better of it, instead taking the hand he offered her in a firm shake. He seemed quite content as he ushered her out, wishing her a good night’s rest since tomorrow’s work would probably “wear you out.” She said good-bye and ran home, hardly daring to believe her good luck. A real job, with regular pay! And, the thought occurred to her, a chance to see that hunk every day
He was glad to get it, and ate the pie in bed, and drank the toddy she'd made for him without any argument. As soon as she could, Casey ran out to get the next box of plaques. The landlady had them, as promised, so she swallowed her disappointment at not getting another glimpse of the handsome Mr. Andrews, and hurried on her way.
She didn't finish all the deliveries until the next morning. She stopped by to see Mr. Andrews about seven that evening, which was when the landlady said he'd probably be home.
He'd just arrived, and he gave her that fabulous smile when he saw her. "Hi Casey!" He moved aside so she could enter. "You've done a wonderful job. I heard from several people who were all happy to get their plaques so quickly. Hope you're not worn out!"
She laughed and shook her head. "Not at all, Mr. Andrews. It was great running around all those pretty neighborhoods and meeting everyone. Nice people."
He gave her a curious look as he pulled her money from his pocket. Before handing it to her, he said, "I'll tell you, lad, you're really an enigma."
Her eyes widened. "Well, I don't mean to be, sir. What can I clear up for you?"
He sighed. "To start, I'd like to know how a street waif knows what an enigma is!"
Casey laughed again and shrugged. "I haven't always been a street waif. I used to go to school."
He looked thoughtful as he handed her the money. "You can read and write, what about your numbers?"
"Not my best subject, but I've had lots of math."
"Can I ask what you did before you started this illustrious career?"
She flushed, not wanting to lie to him any more than she already had, but plunged into the story she and Sam had concocted. "I was a student at home, but then my parents died and Sam thought it best I come to Belfast and stay with him. He was a good friend of my dad's, you see, and I had no other relatives." Casey's smile was small and tight. "But things got rough here, too, so Sam and I just go day to day, sort of." She made herself grin. "It'll get better, though. Nowhere to go but up."
Mr. Andrews studied her before speaking again, causing Casey to flush more under his gaze. "I'm wondering, Casey, if you'd be interested in a job. It's temporary, but it might give you the chance to come through the rough spot. Maybe about four to six months. My secretary is swamped and needs an assistant. It'd be a lot of running around, collecting information from various departments and helping with scheduling, paperwork, that kind of thing. The pay would be six shillings a week, eleven hours a day with a half hour for breakfast and lunch." He looked hopeful. "It's good work and I could give you a solid recommendation if you decide to go back to school."
Casey stammered, then gulped and nodded. "I'd sure like to, Mr. Andrews. That's…that's a wonderful offer."
His smile appeared again and this time, she shyly smiled back. He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Wonderful! You know where Harland & Wolff shipyard is?” At her nod, he went on, “Be at the gate on Queen’s Island at eight in the morning. Tell them you’re to see me. They’ll direct you. Mind ye, lad,” he spoke a bit sternly, “ye be on time. There’s no slacking possible!”
“Yes sir! Thank you, sir!” Casey nearly saluted, but thought better of it, instead taking the hand he offered her in a firm shake. He seemed quite content as he ushered her out, wishing her a good night’s rest since tomorrow’s work would probably “wear you out.” She said good-bye and ran home, hardly daring to believe her good luck. A real job, with regular pay! And, the thought occurred to her, a chance to see that hunk every day
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