Randy Scott gazed out of the filthy window near his cluttered worktable on the fourth floor of the Leather Works, watching the clouds pass by, and wondering what a new year would bring. It was March of a new decade, 1860, and he was hopeful for a better life than he had had so far. July 9th would be his fourteenth birthday, and most boys his age were on their own by then. He dreamed of the day when he could get away from the orphanage and away from the Leather Works.
The Armstead and Sons Leather Works of New York City was a six-story building where leather goods were manufactured and sold. The Juvenile Orphanage for Boys furnished indentured labor for the dyeing, cutting, and assembling of leather goods on the upper, four manufacturing …show more content…
Mr. Tinker was the worst of all the taskmasters. He was a short, stout, older man – about 45 years old, Randy guessed – who worked in the Leather Works for most of his adult life. His worn pants were too short and dirty; his soiled shirt barely covered his bulging belly; his tattered coat was missing both elbows and most of its buttons; and his scuffed shoes hadn't been cleaned or polished in years. Mr. Tinker hadn’t shaved, brushed his teeth, or bathed in a month or more. He often reeked of gin. His body stench entered the room before he did and lingered long after he …show more content…
A few boys leaped from the windows, but the fourth floor was too high, and their anguish was fleeting.
“Maybe they are the lucky ones,” thought Randy.
Randy yelled above the panic, “Tie the horse bridles together, and make ropes. We can use them to lower ourselves to the ground. Keep low to the floor so you can breathe.”
Following his lead, a small army of boys set to work weaving leather bridles into ropes. In short order, the boys managed to fashion several ropes. They looked to Randy for further instructions.
“Over here, Jimmy, tie the rope to this beam and throw it out the window. Artie, Sammy, Danny do the same at the other windows. Tie and throw two or three ropes out each window,” yelled Randy. Soon, several ropes hung from the windows, and boys began an orderly descent to safety, the younger boys first, followed by the older boys. In the midst of the organized escape, Mr. Tinker burst into the room – coughing, sputtering, and staggeringly drunk. He watched the boys climb to the window ledge and descend to safety. He pushed his way to a window, grabbed a rope, and struggled to reach the window opening.
“Help me up, you worthless beggars,” he
The Armstead and Sons Leather Works of New York City was a six-story building where leather goods were manufactured and sold. The Juvenile Orphanage for Boys furnished indentured labor for the dyeing, cutting, and assembling of leather goods on the upper, four manufacturing …show more content…
Mr. Tinker was the worst of all the taskmasters. He was a short, stout, older man – about 45 years old, Randy guessed – who worked in the Leather Works for most of his adult life. His worn pants were too short and dirty; his soiled shirt barely covered his bulging belly; his tattered coat was missing both elbows and most of its buttons; and his scuffed shoes hadn't been cleaned or polished in years. Mr. Tinker hadn’t shaved, brushed his teeth, or bathed in a month or more. He often reeked of gin. His body stench entered the room before he did and lingered long after he …show more content…
A few boys leaped from the windows, but the fourth floor was too high, and their anguish was fleeting.
“Maybe they are the lucky ones,” thought Randy.
Randy yelled above the panic, “Tie the horse bridles together, and make ropes. We can use them to lower ourselves to the ground. Keep low to the floor so you can breathe.”
Following his lead, a small army of boys set to work weaving leather bridles into ropes. In short order, the boys managed to fashion several ropes. They looked to Randy for further instructions.
“Over here, Jimmy, tie the rope to this beam and throw it out the window. Artie, Sammy, Danny do the same at the other windows. Tie and throw two or three ropes out each window,” yelled Randy. Soon, several ropes hung from the windows, and boys began an orderly descent to safety, the younger boys first, followed by the older boys. In the midst of the organized escape, Mr. Tinker burst into the room – coughing, sputtering, and staggeringly drunk. He watched the boys climb to the window ledge and descend to safety. He pushed his way to a window, grabbed a rope, and struggled to reach the window opening.
“Help me up, you worthless beggars,” he