A tree grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith

Author:Betty Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Tags: Criticism, Coming of age, Brooklyn (New York, Brooklyn (N.Y.), Family, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Family Life, Modern fiction, Literary, Fiction, Brooklyn (New York), Literature - Classics, Classics, N.Y.)
ISBN: 9780060801267
Publisher: HarperPerennial
Published: 1947-01-15T08:00:00+00:00

"I saw it coming, the boss said. "Flittman never did like that horse and the horse never liked him. Well, we'll have to take on another man."

Evy, fearful lest her husband lose his job, asked whether she couldn't take his route while he was in the hospital. She argued that the milk was delivered in the dark and no one would ever know. The boss laughed at her. She told him how much they needed that twenty-two-fifty a week. She pleaded so hard, and looked so little and pretty and spunky, that he gave in at last. He gave her the list of customers and told her the boys would load the wagon for her. The horse knew the route, he said, and it wouldn't be too hard. One of the drivers suggested that she take the stable dog along for company and protection against milk thieves. The boss agreed to that. He told her to report to the stables at 2 AM. Evy was the first milk woman on the route.

She got along fine. The fellows at the stable liked her and said that she was a better worker than Flittman. In spite of her practicalness, she was soft and feminine and the men loved the low and breathless way she had of talking. And the horse was very happy and co-operated as much as he could. He stopped automatically before each house where milk was to be left and never started up again until she was safely in the seat.

Like Flittman, she brought him to her house while she ate her dinner. Because the weather was so cold, she took an old quilt from her bed and threw it over him so he wouldn't catch cold while he waited for her. She took his oats upstairs and heated them for a few minutes in the oven before she fed him. She didn't think ice-cold oats were appetizing. The horse enjoyed the warmed oats. After he finished munching, she treated him to half an apple or a lump of sugar.

She thought it was too cold to wash him on the street. She took him back to the stable for that. She thought the yellow soap was too biting, so she brought along a cake of Sweetheart Soap and a big old bath towel to dry him with. The men at the stable offered to wash the horse and wagon for her but she insisted on washing the horse herself. Two men got into a fight over who should wash the wagon. Evy settled it by saying one could wash it one day and the other, the next day.

She heated Drummer's wash water on a gas plate in the boss's office. She'd never think of washing him in cold water. She washed him with the warm water and the sweet-scented soap and dried him carefully bit by bit with the towel. He never committed an indignity on her while she washed him. He snorted and whinnied happily throughout the washing. His skin rippled in voluptuous delight when Evy rubbed him dry.

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