Post-confederation (1867-)
This was not how he'd imagined today would go, but he wouldn't let anyone, not even his mother, tell him what to do. Like his hero, Tom Sawyer, Henry would seek his fame and fortune in the wide world. Maybe he couldn't hitch a ride on a Mississippi riverboat, but he could take a page out of Tom's book and live by his wits and by his own rules.
The men took one step toward her.
As Elsie took another step back, her foot caught on a chunk of stone. She felt her ankle twist as she stumbled to catch her balance.
The men stepped forward again. Bigger steps this time.
Elsie could smell smoke and sweat and a stink like rotten potatoes. In a sliver of light between the hoboes, she saw Dog Bob being hauled away by the man. But she felt frozen in place, with a chill creeping down her legs and up into her collar. The Reverend had been right. She shouldn't have come.
Dear Martin:
I got in trouble yesterday. I thought about all the stories you made up, so I made up one of my own and told it to Herman-the-Pest, and now I have to stay beside my mother for a whole day. I thought it was a good story, but he thought it was scary. The funny part is that he cried again the next night because I wasn't allowed to tell him another one!
