“Pray God the time will not be long!” Mrs. Phillips laid her hand over that of the woman by her side.
Then they were at the gate and goodbyes were said. The children climbed down nimbly and rushed up the path. Anna moved more slowly.
She smiled at the sight of moist, chubby Charlie in the neighbor woman’s arms. This was their youngest son—hers and Frederick’s. Poor little fellow! Anna felt her heart contract. He didn’t know his father was going so far away.
“Hasn’t whimpered a mite,” the neighbor had kept him during the family’s absence. “So I mixed up a pot of soup for you. It’s on the stove all ready. I knew you’d all be starved.”
Anna’s voice choked when she tried to thank the good soul. The woman patted her arm and hurried homeward across the vacant lot.
Small Charlie was quite happy, so Anna left him with the other children and went to the room she shared with her husband. It was very small. The wardrobe door, left swinging open, bumped against the washstand crowding the bed. Anna took off her hat, placed it on the shelf and closed the door. Moving mechanically, she emptied the half-filled bowl of water on the stand and hung up an old alpaca coat. Frederick had discarded it at the last moment. Then she stood motionless, just thinking.
She had not told him she was going to have another baby: he might not have gone. But she knew she needed more money than that tiny salary. She could not leave the children. There must be something she could do. She must manage. Suddenly her face lighted. Lynn, Massachusetts, had one industry which in the early 1840’s spilled over into every section. Lynn had developed like a guild town in England; and that evening Anna made up her mind that she could do what was being done in many households in the town—she would make shoes.
In time she learned to turn a sole with the best of them.
Meanwhile a ship was going out to sea. And all was not smooth sailing.