Billy Bud, Tailor: 2 Each morning, Billy would awake, brush the silt from his face and clothes, throw the strays off, that had congregated with him through the night, and make his way to the horse trough to wash up. Then hed make his way to the back entry to the kitchen of the Anchor Eye, tavern, where Emily, an ancient indentured, would sell him two hard biscuits soaked in salted bacon drippings for a farthing, which she dropped in her apron pocket. It was a good deal for her and he. He would have one for breakfast and one for lunch, and he would forage for scraps out back of serving establishments for his supper, which is where she had found him precipitating their present business arrangement. By the time his mentors arrived, Billy would be standing at the work table directly behind the front counter, having gained access through the back door. His mentors were both elderly gentlemen in their fiftys and recognizing the peril of making their way down the narrow corridor to let him in, theyd agreed he was trustworthy enough after two short weeks of observation, to be given a key. But, only after first being educated to the dire, and frightening aspects of the fate sure to befall him should he fall prey to the temptation to steal or inadvertently forget to lock the door at night. He was convinced.
Posted on: Tue, 16 Dec 2014 05:24:20 +0000
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