Writer note: Here's the next part! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 5: Never Thought It Would Come to This!
Weasel slumped over to the ugly, orange couch his nieces were sound to sleep on. He observed them for a moment in somber quietness. With the slightest smirk on his face, he murmured, "Wakey, wakey" before grabbing both the girls' available ears and yanking them awake.
"AHHHH!" they both screamed. Oscar ran in from his bedroom he shared with Morris, and started laughing. "That's good for you, goils!"
"Why'd you do that, Uncle Wiesel?" Delilah yelled, holding her now-aching ear lobe.
"We need to have a talk" Weasel replied, nonchalantly.
Tilda winced. "Couldn't it of waited until tonight?"
"No." Weasel hovered over them, his wide figure shadowing the window of sunlight. He moved to grab a chair from their table to sit in front of them.
"I ain't gonna miss this" Oscar grinned, running to sit next to Delilah. "I know exactly what he's gonna say."
"What's going on?" Morris asked, coming out of the washroom - tugging up his pants and buttoning them.
"Morris, please do that -in- the washroom before you come out" Tilda whined.
To her annoyance, he sat down beside her, squashing her against their sister. "I do what I want" he informed, arrogantly.
Delilah reached over, and took Morris' bowler from his head to place on her head. "Did I tell you, you could take that?" he asked. Delilah shrugged, turning to Oscar. She held up a cupped hand to him, and he knew what that meant. Morris just left her alone. It wasn't the first time she'd taken his hat. It only bugged him when jerks like the newsboys took it.
"Now, children," Weasel began then paused to look at Delilah and Oscar, pestered. He cleared his throat. They stopped what they were doing to face him. "What are you two doing???"
"Thumb wrestling" they replied.
"Well, stop it!" They flinched at Weasel's tone and settling back on the couch. "As you know, me and the boys work. We actually contribute to this household. You girls," he jabbed a dirty finger at both of them in an accusing manner, "do not contribute anything but strife in this household. That is why I am demanding you to find work."
With that, Oscar started chuckling at them and Morris was grinning in amusement. They knew how much they're sisters hated work.
Tilda's eyes widened, choking out, "Work? But, Uncle, we can't!"
"Yes, you can" Weasel glared harshly at her. "And, you will. I'm giving you girls two days. If you do not have some kind of work that pays, I'll have to take measures into my own hands."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I do not believe this" Tilda complained, as they walked along a walkway in Central Park.
"Believe, Tilda" Delilah said, heaving. "I knew this was coming soon. We were lucky Uncle didn't send us to work a long time ago."
Tilda kicked a rock with her pointed boot. "Yeah, instead it was a boarding house to keep us under lock and key."
"Hello ladies" they heard two familiar voices behind them. The sisters turned to see they're newsboy pals strolling up with a few newspapers under their arm.
"Welcome boys to our pity party" Delilah commented, hanging her head.
The boys fell into step with them. "What's wrong?" Dutchy asked.
"Oh, we been sentenced to finding work" Tilda replied, dramatically.
"Will you stop sounding so deadening." Delilah swatted on her, who immediately swatted back. "Uncle wants us to find work which will not be easy. We been banned from every factory and mill in the state."
"Maybe we can help" Skittery offered, insinuating the papers he carried.
"Skittery, you know we can't sell newspapers" Delilah confirmed. She thumbed to Tilda and whispered, "Even though, she has one of the loudest months around."
"I heard that!" Tilda shouted, swatting her sister again.
"Can you do anything?" Dutchy asked, trying to still help. "Can you sew, cook, type, do laundry?"
Tilda counted on her finger. "No; we only know how to eat; never done it; have done it but somehow the clothing fell apart." She grinned, sheepishly.
Dutchy frowned. "What -can- you goils do then?"
The sisters exchanged droll glances then replied, "Gambling. Causing chaos."
"And, lighting things on fire" Tilda added, slyly.
The newsboys rolled their eyes. They had for the past few weeks experienced the achievements the Delancey sisters were capable of: absolutely nothing.
"Oh, wait!" Delilah blurted out, flushing in the process. "When we were in the boarding house, Mrs. Crane made us wash dishes and scrub floors when we got in trouble. I guess we could do that."
Tilda giggled, stupidly. She was prone to be a little dense. "At least, we'll be safe working with water."
Skittery stopped, face scrunched in momentary thought, before brightening up. You could almost see the light bulb pop on over his head. "I think I know a place where you goils could work!"
"Really?" Delilah furrowed her brow in surprise.
"Yeah" Skittery replied, nodding. "I'll have the answer to you if you have a job or not by tomorrow. Okay?"
"I'm definitely up for it" Tilda remarked.
"Good, now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." Skittery tipped his hat and did a turnabout before walking down the path which they had come.
Delilah cocked her head in confusion, asking Dutchy, "Do you know where he's going?"
He held his hands up. "Hey, I'm a newsie, not a mind reader."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Being wet all day was bad enough, but the heat was the killer! Tilda carelessly handed a stack of plates to Delilah for wash, making her sister almost drop them in the process. Delilah growled, setting the plates safely in the large sink.
"Would you be more careful?"
Tilda shrugged, and went back to drying the newly-cleaned silverware. "What? You caught them."
"But, I could of easily dropped them too because of you" Delilah spilled, in frustration. She pulled her arm over her grimy forehead, wiping off the sweat and water and various other particles. "If we break any of these dishes, we'll be booted and held to the mercy of Uncle."
"Please, don't remind me…for the hundredth time this week."
Yes, it had been a week since they started they job of washing dishes and scrubbing floors in the back of Tibby's restaurant. The sweltering heat of the kitchen conveniently flowed right into the back room where they worked. The only way of escape without getting caught was the door leading to the back alleyway. They secretly took many breaks out there.
"Hey girlies" a singsang voice sounded from the back door. Tilda slumped her shoulders, knowing good and well who it was before she even had to look.
"What do you want, Beaver boy?"
Snitch stood proudly in the doorway, a gigantic grin plastered on his features. "When Dutchy told me you two were actually working, I just had to come see for myself."
The sisters watched curiously as Snitch motioned for someone to join him. A tall man in a brown suit appeared…with a camera in hand. "Smile, ladies" the man said, after setting it down. They didn't have time to blink before the light flashed and they're stunned looks would go down in history forever.
"Snitch, I'll soak you so hard you won't be able to know right from left!" Tilda called, stepping to chase after the runaway newsboy - who was happily busting a gut. His laughter echoed for several minutes in the alleyway.
"Tilda! Calm down! We'll have plenty of time to do that later!" Delilah shouted, restraining her furious sister.
"Farewell" the man with the camera said. He hugged his camera and disappeared in the alleyway as well. The sisters were about to go after him, but a "ahem" caught them.
"Where are you girls going?" Mr. Tibby asked, his fists firmly on his hips.
Delilah grinned, sheepishly. "Just going to ask that man who just passed if he wanted to try your wonderful restaurant."
Tilda could barely keep her laughter in before Mr. Tibby left their sight. "Oh, you know how to play 'em, Lila." They strolled ever-so-slowly back to their post. "Mama taught you well."
"Yeah, how to cover our arse when we need it, because she knew you couldn't."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Weasel rubbed his scruffy chin as he regarded the coins in front of him. "I have to say, you girls did good. I'm impressed, let alone stunned that you actually did something."
"Thanks for the confidence in us, Uncle" Delilah sited, wrapping her fingers around the honest wage. The coins surely felt good in her palm.
"Maybe I count it?" Weasel asked, in innocence.
The sisters were hesitant, but turned over their precious pay to their greasy-handed uncle. Weasel counted the coins in his hand then separated four pennies from the pile. He turned back to the girls, indicating them to hold out their hands again.
"Here you are" he slimmed to Tilda, giving her two pennies. "And, here you are," doing the same for Delilah.
"What is this?" she sputtered out, turning livid immediately.
"That's your portion" Weasel retorted, with a smug smirk and an even grosser lick of his lips. "You work to contribute to this household. That is your portion. The rest is mine….I mean, the households."
Tilda's mouth hung open. "But, Uncle, just two pennies?"
"You're lucky, Tilda. I could of given you just half a cent, but I was feeling generous." He wobbled off, leaving the sisters speechless and with very little coinage.
Chapter 5: Never Thought It Would Come to This!
Weasel slumped over to the ugly, orange couch his nieces were sound to sleep on. He observed them for a moment in somber quietness. With the slightest smirk on his face, he murmured, "Wakey, wakey" before grabbing both the girls' available ears and yanking them awake.
"AHHHH!" they both screamed. Oscar ran in from his bedroom he shared with Morris, and started laughing. "That's good for you, goils!"
"Why'd you do that, Uncle Wiesel?" Delilah yelled, holding her now-aching ear lobe.
"We need to have a talk" Weasel replied, nonchalantly.
Tilda winced. "Couldn't it of waited until tonight?"
"No." Weasel hovered over them, his wide figure shadowing the window of sunlight. He moved to grab a chair from their table to sit in front of them.
"I ain't gonna miss this" Oscar grinned, running to sit next to Delilah. "I know exactly what he's gonna say."
"What's going on?" Morris asked, coming out of the washroom - tugging up his pants and buttoning them.
"Morris, please do that -in- the washroom before you come out" Tilda whined.
To her annoyance, he sat down beside her, squashing her against their sister. "I do what I want" he informed, arrogantly.
Delilah reached over, and took Morris' bowler from his head to place on her head. "Did I tell you, you could take that?" he asked. Delilah shrugged, turning to Oscar. She held up a cupped hand to him, and he knew what that meant. Morris just left her alone. It wasn't the first time she'd taken his hat. It only bugged him when jerks like the newsboys took it.
"Now, children," Weasel began then paused to look at Delilah and Oscar, pestered. He cleared his throat. They stopped what they were doing to face him. "What are you two doing???"
"Thumb wrestling" they replied.
"Well, stop it!" They flinched at Weasel's tone and settling back on the couch. "As you know, me and the boys work. We actually contribute to this household. You girls," he jabbed a dirty finger at both of them in an accusing manner, "do not contribute anything but strife in this household. That is why I am demanding you to find work."
With that, Oscar started chuckling at them and Morris was grinning in amusement. They knew how much they're sisters hated work.
Tilda's eyes widened, choking out, "Work? But, Uncle, we can't!"
"Yes, you can" Weasel glared harshly at her. "And, you will. I'm giving you girls two days. If you do not have some kind of work that pays, I'll have to take measures into my own hands."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I do not believe this" Tilda complained, as they walked along a walkway in Central Park.
"Believe, Tilda" Delilah said, heaving. "I knew this was coming soon. We were lucky Uncle didn't send us to work a long time ago."
Tilda kicked a rock with her pointed boot. "Yeah, instead it was a boarding house to keep us under lock and key."
"Hello ladies" they heard two familiar voices behind them. The sisters turned to see they're newsboy pals strolling up with a few newspapers under their arm.
"Welcome boys to our pity party" Delilah commented, hanging her head.
The boys fell into step with them. "What's wrong?" Dutchy asked.
"Oh, we been sentenced to finding work" Tilda replied, dramatically.
"Will you stop sounding so deadening." Delilah swatted on her, who immediately swatted back. "Uncle wants us to find work which will not be easy. We been banned from every factory and mill in the state."
"Maybe we can help" Skittery offered, insinuating the papers he carried.
"Skittery, you know we can't sell newspapers" Delilah confirmed. She thumbed to Tilda and whispered, "Even though, she has one of the loudest months around."
"I heard that!" Tilda shouted, swatting her sister again.
"Can you do anything?" Dutchy asked, trying to still help. "Can you sew, cook, type, do laundry?"
Tilda counted on her finger. "No; we only know how to eat; never done it; have done it but somehow the clothing fell apart." She grinned, sheepishly.
Dutchy frowned. "What -can- you goils do then?"
The sisters exchanged droll glances then replied, "Gambling. Causing chaos."
"And, lighting things on fire" Tilda added, slyly.
The newsboys rolled their eyes. They had for the past few weeks experienced the achievements the Delancey sisters were capable of: absolutely nothing.
"Oh, wait!" Delilah blurted out, flushing in the process. "When we were in the boarding house, Mrs. Crane made us wash dishes and scrub floors when we got in trouble. I guess we could do that."
Tilda giggled, stupidly. She was prone to be a little dense. "At least, we'll be safe working with water."
Skittery stopped, face scrunched in momentary thought, before brightening up. You could almost see the light bulb pop on over his head. "I think I know a place where you goils could work!"
"Really?" Delilah furrowed her brow in surprise.
"Yeah" Skittery replied, nodding. "I'll have the answer to you if you have a job or not by tomorrow. Okay?"
"I'm definitely up for it" Tilda remarked.
"Good, now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." Skittery tipped his hat and did a turnabout before walking down the path which they had come.
Delilah cocked her head in confusion, asking Dutchy, "Do you know where he's going?"
He held his hands up. "Hey, I'm a newsie, not a mind reader."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Being wet all day was bad enough, but the heat was the killer! Tilda carelessly handed a stack of plates to Delilah for wash, making her sister almost drop them in the process. Delilah growled, setting the plates safely in the large sink.
"Would you be more careful?"
Tilda shrugged, and went back to drying the newly-cleaned silverware. "What? You caught them."
"But, I could of easily dropped them too because of you" Delilah spilled, in frustration. She pulled her arm over her grimy forehead, wiping off the sweat and water and various other particles. "If we break any of these dishes, we'll be booted and held to the mercy of Uncle."
"Please, don't remind me…for the hundredth time this week."
Yes, it had been a week since they started they job of washing dishes and scrubbing floors in the back of Tibby's restaurant. The sweltering heat of the kitchen conveniently flowed right into the back room where they worked. The only way of escape without getting caught was the door leading to the back alleyway. They secretly took many breaks out there.
"Hey girlies" a singsang voice sounded from the back door. Tilda slumped her shoulders, knowing good and well who it was before she even had to look.
"What do you want, Beaver boy?"
Snitch stood proudly in the doorway, a gigantic grin plastered on his features. "When Dutchy told me you two were actually working, I just had to come see for myself."
The sisters watched curiously as Snitch motioned for someone to join him. A tall man in a brown suit appeared…with a camera in hand. "Smile, ladies" the man said, after setting it down. They didn't have time to blink before the light flashed and they're stunned looks would go down in history forever.
"Snitch, I'll soak you so hard you won't be able to know right from left!" Tilda called, stepping to chase after the runaway newsboy - who was happily busting a gut. His laughter echoed for several minutes in the alleyway.
"Tilda! Calm down! We'll have plenty of time to do that later!" Delilah shouted, restraining her furious sister.
"Farewell" the man with the camera said. He hugged his camera and disappeared in the alleyway as well. The sisters were about to go after him, but a "ahem" caught them.
"Where are you girls going?" Mr. Tibby asked, his fists firmly on his hips.
Delilah grinned, sheepishly. "Just going to ask that man who just passed if he wanted to try your wonderful restaurant."
Tilda could barely keep her laughter in before Mr. Tibby left their sight. "Oh, you know how to play 'em, Lila." They strolled ever-so-slowly back to their post. "Mama taught you well."
"Yeah, how to cover our arse when we need it, because she knew you couldn't."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Weasel rubbed his scruffy chin as he regarded the coins in front of him. "I have to say, you girls did good. I'm impressed, let alone stunned that you actually did something."
"Thanks for the confidence in us, Uncle" Delilah sited, wrapping her fingers around the honest wage. The coins surely felt good in her palm.
"Maybe I count it?" Weasel asked, in innocence.
The sisters were hesitant, but turned over their precious pay to their greasy-handed uncle. Weasel counted the coins in his hand then separated four pennies from the pile. He turned back to the girls, indicating them to hold out their hands again.
"Here you are" he slimmed to Tilda, giving her two pennies. "And, here you are," doing the same for Delilah.
"What is this?" she sputtered out, turning livid immediately.
"That's your portion" Weasel retorted, with a smug smirk and an even grosser lick of his lips. "You work to contribute to this household. That is your portion. The rest is mine….I mean, the households."
Tilda's mouth hung open. "But, Uncle, just two pennies?"
"You're lucky, Tilda. I could of given you just half a cent, but I was feeling generous." He wobbled off, leaving the sisters speechless and with very little coinage.