A Mother's Spirit Read Online Free PDF Page B

away?’
    Brian smiled at Joe’s astonished face. ‘That is the general idea,’ he said. ‘How else would the taxi firm know that I wanted them this morning?’
    ‘It’s almost unbelievable to me, sir,’ Joe said. ‘I know that you said I was to go into New York this morning to fetch the carriage back and I wasn’t sure how I was going to go in except maybe to use one of those frightening tram cars.’
    ‘No, Joe, not this morning,’ Brian said. ‘Though you will have to get to grips with those sooner or later. Today I am going with you because I want to see how Tim is faring. And don’t be in too much of a hurry to fetch the carriage back. Familiarise yourself with the place before you collect it because as it is Saturday today I will not be going to work and will have no urgent need of it.’
    ‘Thank you, sir,’ Joe said, grateful for his employer’s consideration, because he had had only a glimpse of the city as the taxi had sped through the deepening dusk the evening before and he was dying to see more of it.
    Just a short while later, after his second ride in a taxi, he stepped from it onto one of the crowded streets and looked about him. He could hardly believe that he was here at last, standing in New York City.
    Used to winding country lanes, he was fascinated by the wide and perfectly straight streets and the way many of them had numbers instead of names. The city’s skyscrapers towered above him, and the size and variety of the shops and the goods they had on sale in their huge glass windows fairly dazzled him.
    To all sides, people, seemingly of every colour and creed, thronged the pavements which Joe had heard tell were called sidewalks. He noted that though many folk spoke with the American drawl, there were plenty more with foreign accents or inflexions in their speech, and he knew it wasn’t just the Irish who were flooding American shores. New York truly was a cosmopolitan city and he felt privileged to be part ofthis New World. He vowed to store it all up to tell Tom in his letters home.
       
    When he arrived back, later that morning, it was to learn that Tim the coachman had died in the night.
    ‘Poor fellow,’ McManus said. ‘Been here years, and then to end his days like that …’
    All the staff were upset over Tim’s death, as was Brian Brannigan, although he was heartily glad that Joe had agreed to step into Tim’s shoes. Joe had surprised himself that morning by quite enjoying bringing the pony and carriage home. Bramble was a lovely little pony when he was not spooked by anything, and rattled along at a fair old rate.
    Joe couldn’t help comparing Bramble to the farm horses back home. Their top speed was little faster than a man could walk briskly. He did agree with Brian, though, that the city streets were not so safe for horses any more. Soon Bramble would be sold on and it would be a car that Joe would be driving. That thought was a scary one. However, for now he had to care for the horses and it was Joe who drove the sombre Brannigan family to St Bridget’s church a few days later for Tim’s funeral.
    The next day was Thanksgiving and a half-day off for Joe. And so, after tasting such delights as apple and butternut squash soup, pumpkin pie and Mayflower pudding, he decided to look up Patrick Lacey. He braced himself and went into the city on his first tramcar. Patrick lived in a downtown tenement, and McManus had given Joe instructions on how to find him in that maze of streets on the East Side. He found 57 Orchard Street fairly easily, but stood outside it for a moment or two, surprised by its seediness. It had not been what he had expected at all in this brave new world.
    The tenement was just one of many, and built of dull grey brick, with an iron fire escape fitted to the side of it, running down to the ground, and which, to Joe’s surprise,was festooned with washing. There were few people about, but then the day wasn’t a pleasant one and the other servants