The Great Trouble by Deborah Hopkinson

Author:Deborah Hopkinson [Hopkinson, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-449-81819-0
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

“Now, Eel, I want you to pretend you are seeing this neighborhood for the first time,” Dr. Snow instructed. “What would you say about this pump? Just tell me everything that pops into your head.”

“Well, a pump is one place that people in the neighborhood get their water, though some also get it piped into their houses these days,” I said slowly. “It pumps water up from a well, and folks use that water to cook with and, of course, to drink.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“Uh … this here is the Broad Street pump, but it ain’t the only one in the vicinity. Most people use the pump closest to them, though not always. I mean, it’s a matter of taste sometimes,” I said. “The Broad Street pump is known as a good one; the water isn’t too murky. Though I never drank from it when I worked at the Lion.”

I stopped and felt my cheeks get hot. “Uh … but I don’t work there anymore.”

“Are you in the habit of drinking from any other pumps around here?” Dr. Snow asked.

I had to think about that for a minute. “Well, I stop at Bridle Street sometimes, or Warwick Street, on account of that pump is near the park in Golden Square. I like to wash off my legs and sit in the sun to dry, especially if I’ve been mudlarking, which is rather a dirty business.”

Dr. Snow smiled. “Can you name some of the other pumps in this area?”

“There’s one on Vigo Street. Oh, and there’s the Little Marlborough Street pump, but everyone tries to avoid it.” I wrinkled my nose. “The water smells awful bad.”

“Now, you said you didn’t drink from this pump when you worked at the Lion,” said Dr. Snow. “Why not?”

“We had our own water, which was delivered from the New River Company to make ale. We had a well too,” I said. “I think most of the men—there were about seventy workers—just drank ale. I never got in the habit of stopping at the Broad Street pump because I always had a jug of cold, clear water waitin’ for me at the Lion.”

“Very good, Eel. Now, what else can you tell me about this neighborhood?”

I frowned up at him. His dark eyes seemed kind enough, but they held a challenge: was I just an ignorant mudlark, or was I worthy of helping in this important work?

“Well, like I said, we have lots of families, squeezed together close, and lots of little shops and businesses too,” I said. “There’s the brewery, of course, and other tailors besides Mr. Griggs. We have a bakery, a furniture maker, a greengrocer, a jeweler, a bonnet maker. I know a shop that sells trimming for ladies’ hats, a dressmaker, and an engraver. Oh, and an umbrella maker too.

“Besides the Lion, I guess the Eley Brothers factory is the largest business. They make those percussion caps, the little metal part of a firearm that contains the gunpowder,” I said. “Then there’s the St.

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