Uprising by Haddix Margaret Peterson

Author:Haddix, Margaret Peterson [Haddix, Margaret Peterson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Young Adult, Childrens
ISBN: 9781442419568
Goodreads: 10258383
Publisher: Simon Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 2007-09-25T07:00:00+00:00

Jane

Jane’s father hadn’t come home in December. He sent a telegram saying that his business trip had to be extended unexpectedly; he had to miss Christmas. The letter that followed the telegram said he was sure Jane was too busy going to parties to care about his absence.

Jane wasn’t going to parties. That was the only rebellion she was capable of to refuse to put on sparkling dresses, to refuse to make polite chatter, to refuse to mince across a dance floor. But in her battle of wills with Miss Milhouse, that also meant she wasn’t allowed to go to the picket line, wasn’t allowed to give any money to the strike fund, wasn’t allowed to buy coats or food for Bella and Yetta.

Jane had made an unpleasant discovery: She was a very rich girl, but she had no money.

Money she could control, anyway, and wasn’t that what really mattered? The twenty dollars she’d crammed into Bella’s hands as Miss Milhouse shoved her out the door had been the last of the birthday money Jane’s father had given her, when he thought she’d spend it on a new hat or a necklace or ring. Jane had plenty of silks and furs; she ate oranges that came up by railroad from Florida, oysters from Cape Cod, caviar imported from Russia. But Miss Milhouse controlled Jane’s clothing budget; the cook and the housekeeper ordered everything else. And her father went over every bill with a gimlet eye.

As soon as Jane could manage to escape Miss Milhouse’s attention even for a minute, she sneaked down to the garage to talk to Mr. Corrigan.

“Please, if you could just take some food to those girl strikers—take some from the pantry. Cook will never miss it,” Jane said.

Mr. Corrigan had his head under the hood of the car. He was very slow about leaning back from the engine, looking over at Jane.

“Cook,” he said, “has counted every bag of flour, every carton of salt, every pound of potatoes. Aye, she’d miss it if we took so much as a dried pea.”

Jane had not bothered putting on a coat when she sneaked out of the house; she’d thought that might look suspicious. She shivered in the cold garage, and wondered why it was fashionable to wear such a thin, gauzy dress in the wintertime. Was it just to show off the fact that Jane’s father could afford a fine furnace, strong enough to heat their entire house?

“Then buy some food for them, and I’ll pay you back when my father gets home,” Jane said. “If you could buy Bella and Yetta each a coat, too—I know you probably don’t know much about women’s fashions, but I’m sure anything warm would be marvelous. . . . Maybe your wife would be willing to help you?”

Mr. Corrigan took off his chauffeur’s cap and ran grease-rimmed fingers through his thick hair.

“Miss Jane,” he said, and Jane knew that she should scold him for being so familiar, but she didn’t. “Your father pays me twenty-five dollars a week.

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