"Providence, take the kettle off!" Miriam shouted as she came downstairs pulling on her glove.

Providence turned to the screaming kettle and took it from the stove then took out the biscuits she had struggled to make for breakfast. "This is why I'm not Ottaline," she said then dropped the hot tray on the counter when it burned through her mitten.

"They will do," Miriam said taking a biscuit for her breakfast and preparing a cup of tea.

Ladybird came downstairs next, dressed and ready to go. "Oh, the smell," she said fanning her nose.

"Sorry," Providence said.

Ladybird winced at the sight of the burnt biscuits. Poor Providence had tried to do right by her sister who was in bed with a headache. "We can pick around them," she reassured her and took a biscuit.

"I hope we win the raffle," Providence said. "It's a pity all twelve of us can't enter."

"Eighteen or older, I'm afraid," Miriam said stirring her tea.

"But don't fret," Ladybird said braking away the bunt ends of her biscuit. "Miriam, Selene and I shall handle it all. Wysteria and Beatrice are to save their money."

"And my parents shouldn't have to pay for us," Miriam said. "Papa seemed so happy when he found out how responsible we were being."

"We should get going, we don't want to be late," Miriam said putting on her hat at the door. She quickly finished her tea and grabbed an extra biscuit.

Selene who was just getting downstairs with the other girls all did the same and quickly washed it down with a cup of tea.

"You will tell me all about it, won't you?" Astrid asked as she took a seat at the table.

"They will have to tell me too," Providence said, "As well as Ottaline and Aunt Grace."

"I won't be the one to tell if we are to lose," Beatrice said. "Alifair can do that, she's good at bearing bad news." She put her arm around Alifair and they went out the door.

Wysteria was already outside with Missy ready to go. She smiled as the other girls all climbed in. "All right, let's go get our studio," she said and flipped the reins.

/

The park at Brickyard was beautiful. People had come to enjoy the fair weather and participate in the excitement of the raffle. Many couldn't wait to see into whose hands the old house would fall after Mr. Sweetland had kept it for so many years.

The girls parked their wagon and hurried to get in line which was longer than they had expected. "Selene, Ladybird and I will stay in line since we are entering," Miriam said. "Taitiann why don't you and Wysteria go see if you can find us a place to sit. As the other girls went off and the line moved forward the man in front of them turned around. "Travis Goode!" Miriam gasped.

"Good morning, ladies," Travis said tipping his hat.

"What are you doing entering the raffle, Travis, you have no use for that old house," Miriam demanded.

"Hold your horses," Travis said with a laugh. "I'm here to help. I heard about the age restriction and thought you could use a little extra support. I'm entering in your behalf. If I win I'll let you have the building free of charge."

Miriam was shocked. "Travis, I can't do that to you," she said.

"It's only a penny for a ticket," Travis said.

"But it's yours," Ladybird said. "If you win and give the building to us we'll have to pay you back."

"Oh yes, Travis," Selene said. "We insist. We can't take advantage of a friend."

Travis waved his hands. "Ya'll deserve it," he said. "Mr. Christenson is entering too. He wants it for a gentlemen's club so he and all his elite friends can gossip together and get away from their wives." They all laughed.

"A gentlemen's club," Miriam said. "What a waste."

"I agree," Travis said as he stepped forward in the line.

"Well we thank you, Travis," Miriam said.

 Travis nodded.

/

"Next," Charles Christenson said as he put the ticket in the fishbowl on the table. Next to him Sumner stared bored across the park watching some little boys get into mischief. On his other side sat his good companion Cleve Burnstead who smoked as he wrote down names next to ticket numbers. Beside him was Unger Rothschild who they often referred to as Rothschild. He lived off fortune left behind by his father and didn't know hard work. Each rich, each spoiled, each nursing still on silver spoons. Of the three, Charles was the most grounded and like his father was viewed as a leader. Cleve's father was seen as a leader but Cleve was not an eldest son and preferred to hunt than anything else. Rothschild was the fairest with almost gray hair in his young age, caddish and liked to squander.

"Thank you," Rothschild said taking the money from the man and putting it in the box. He watched as Charles handed him a ticket and Cleve penciled him in. He then took the matching ticket from Charles and held his cigarette to it. He dropped it beneath the table and stamped the ashes as the colored man walked away. "Any more of this and we'll have a heap," he said.

"The main idea is that my father wins," Charles said. "But some people don't deserve a chance."

"But we take their money," Cleve said then took a drag on his cigarette. "We should have just bought up a bunch of tickets and paid people off to pretend they had won. It's easier than this."

"Always looking for the easy way out," Charles said. "Remember when we were boys? Next!"

Rothschild laughed. "I remember we left him at home because he was such a cry baby about goring to the lake," he said.

Charles laughed at the memory then turned to his cousin. "Sumner, how many more of these darkies do we have in line?"

Sumner leaned back in his chair. "Quite a few," he said pushing his sleeve up to scratch his arm.

"Goodness, Sumner what have you been picking cotton?" Rothschild. "You have the arms of sharecropper and without sunburn."

"That's the Indian in us," Charles said as Sumner rolled his sleeve down.

"But you don't tan that way, Charlie old boy," Cleve said. They took down the next person then smirked at each other when Travis Goode came up. They gave him the ticket and took his money all the while smiling and getting a smile from him.

Rothschild then took the matching ticket and held it to his cigarette. He was stamping it when Avery Johnston came out of nowhere.

"Mr. Sweetland said he is on his way," Avery said. "Is he paying you boys for this?" He put a cigarette between his teeth.

"We're just doing it out of our good Christian hearts," Charles said giving Avery a light from his own cigarette.

"Thank you," Avery said. "We'll I'll be cheering for your uncle to win. He turned to walk away.

"Stop by at my house later for a good time," Cleve called after him and Avery waved. "I can never remember why we don't like Avery Johnston."

"Next," Charles said to the three young women standing together talking frantically. "Next!"

Ladybird looked sorrowfully at Selene and Miriam. They had been in such an excited rush that morning that they had forgotten their money. "There," Ladybird said putting her hand on Miriam shoulder. "Travis has promised to help us and I still have my money. We've got a chance."

"Next!" Charles shouted and the young woman hurried up to the table.

Cleve grinned as she approached and knowingly turned to Rothschild.

"One penny," Charles said. 

Ladybird gave them the money and her name and received her ticket. "R38," she read then looked at the four men. "Is this all I do?"

"Yes, just wait and see if your ticket is called," Charles said. "Next, please."

Ladybird turned and walked away.

Rothschild snickered. "Boys, I think I am in love."

"You say that every other day," Charles said. "Remember the redheaded twins at that farm he passed last week."

Rothschild grinned. "We need to ride back by there," he said and the three men laughed.

"You are all disgusting," Sumner said.

"Oh yes," Cleve said. "Charlie, I forget your cousin doesn't like women."

"Of course he likes women," Charles said.

"I don't think you like people much at all do you, Woodrow?" Rothschild said. "Though he was the only one of us who stopped Andrew Addams when he used to beat up Avery when he came on holiday."

"Sumner is just tame," Charles said, "He doesn't gamble, he doesn't flirt he doesn't..."

"You mean he doesn't know how." Rothschild chortled.

Charles waved him off. "But that's what we love about him, right boys?" Cleve and Rothschild agreed.

"Burn her ticket," Sumner suddenly said surprising all three men with him. "If she wins then Miriam Fairchild wins and I won't forget how that woman struck me."

Rothschild found this too much to bear and burst out laughing. "My goodness, Woodrow," he exclaimed flicking the ash from his cigarette. "And what did you do?"

"I walked away," Sumner said.

"That's right, Sumner, turn the other cheek," Charles said.

"Now, Charles, I've seen you get in a scruff," Rothschild said.

"Charlie makes the rules but he doesn't live by them," Cleve said taking Ladybird's matching ticket.

"I have to look out for my cousin," Charles said.

"Yes but how can you let that girl strike you?" Rothschild said. "And you, Charles you let one smart you at the auction. You told me."

Charles shrugged. "I don't care so much anymore," he said

Rothschild shook his head and looked down the table at Sumner. "If that were me...no forget me, if that were Addams he'd have dragged her out by her hair and..." He struck his fist.

"Sumner isn't Andrew," Cleve said. "When Andrew is around I'm prone to do things I'd never do on my own."

Mr. Sweetland arrived then. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said as he sat. "My wife and I will take it from here."

Realizing he still had a ticket in his hand, Cleve dropped it into the fishbowl. It landed face up and when he saw the number: R38, he choked. Mrs. Sweetland's hand then went into the bowl and the tickets were stirred with little lacy gloved fingers. He looked to his friends who were getting up from their seats. None of them seemed to notice his mishap. He sighed, there were many tickets in the bowl, what were the odds?

Sumner walked next to Charles who kept his arm around his shoulder as he talked to his friends on his opposite side. Sumner looked across the park at the people enjoying themselves. A mother waved to him and he nodded his head to her. He even smiled as a little girl gave two boys a smack when they pulled her braids. He looked beyond the citizens to an old oak tree where children played in it. As a boy he too once played in the same tree. He looked at the thick trunk and his heart skipped a beat.

There was the same old withered man standing among the children as they screamed to one another in their games. Their eyes met and the man's gaze followed him as he passed the tree until he was out of view.