{"id":8059,"date":"2008-05-13T06:42:52","date_gmt":"2008-05-13T10:42:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=8059"},"modified":"2024-10-27T15:54:12","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T19:54:12","slug":"orphan-train-the-novel-by-me-age-11-chapter-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=8059","title":{"rendered":"Orphan Train. The Novel. By me. Age 11. \u2013 Chapter 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

If you want to read Chapter 1, it’s here<\/a>. I am holding myself back from interjecting snarky little comments like I do in Diary Friday. Believe me, I want to – but there’s something truly innocent about what I was going for here … my passion for the TV movie completely expressed … and I just don’t feel right about making fun of that.<\/p>\n

Even though some of my word choices are funny and how many times can paragraphs begin with the words “Miss Sims sighed”? Apparently a lot.<\/p>\n

Chapter 2.<\/u><\/p>\n

The children rushed up to the bars and peered through. A small crowd had gathered around the gallows.<\/p>\n

Miss Sims looked over the children and saw two policemen dragging a boy, around 17, toward the gallows. There was complete silence everywhere. No one uttered the slightest sound.<\/p>\n

Suddenly a boy up front, around 13 or 14, called out in a strong<\/u> English accent, “‘Ey! ‘E’s got friends! Let ’em say g’bye!”<\/p>\n

The policemen turned to face the melancholy boy.<\/p>\n

“Listen, kid. You just –” one of them began but the other one interrupted.<\/p>\n

“No. He’s right. But just for a minute.” He pushed the boy gently.<\/p>\n

David (the boy) ran over the 13 or 14 year old boy. “Bye, Liverpool.”<\/p>\n

Liverpool looked at him seriously and set his lips together tightly.<\/p>\n

David looked at Liverpool sadly. Then he bent over and took off his worn out boots. He held them out to Liverpool.<\/p>\n

Liverpool looked at David questioningly.<\/p>\n

David thrust them at Liverpool violently. “Take ’em. To remember me by.”<\/p>\n

Liverpool nodded and took them. He looked at David and immediately turned his gaze at the ground. David stared sadly at his friend. Liverpool, who was usually tough and brave, was now furiously fighting back tears. ” ‘Ey.” David said and patted him on the shoulder.<\/p>\n

Liverpool didn’t look up. The policeman came and led David away.<\/p>\n

******************************************<\/p>\n

Miss Sims walked briskly down the street and turned in at a large mansion. She walked up the stone steps and in through the huge front doors.<\/p>\n

The inside was cool and airy with pillars and statues and wide, elegant staircases.<\/p>\n

She took off her brown coat and put it in the hall closet.<\/p>\n

She sat down helplessly on a green plush chair.<\/p>\n

A man walked in a dignified manner over to Miss Sims. “So, Miss Sims,” he said in a very sophisticated voice. “How are the little ragamuffins today?”<\/p>\n

Miss Sims sighed. “I have told you before. They are orphans<\/u>. Not ragamuffins. They may look like ragamuffins but they are innocent children. Poor little children.”<\/p>\n

The man looked her face over. “Anything the matter, Miss Sims?”<\/p>\n

Miss Sims sighed. “Yes there is. Today I saw a boy hanged. I couldn’t do anything about it. I just stood there and watched. I never<\/u> want to feel that helpless again. Never<\/u>! I<\/u> am taking those children out West.”<\/p>\n

The man’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “You, Miss Sims? But how?”<\/p>\n

Miss Sims straightened out her puffy dress. “I have no idea, but I am going to do it. Those children have got<\/u> to have homes and I am going to find them some.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If you want to read Chapter 1, it’s here. I am holding myself back from interjecting snarky little comments like I do in Diary Friday. Believe me, I want to – but there’s something truly innocent about what I was … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[1486],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8059"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8059"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8059\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":181711,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8059\/revisions\/181711"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8059"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8059"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8059"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}