The peak of the harvest season had finally passed. Jade’s students now had time in the mornings to attend school again, and the second semester of the Domus Ragged School of Wyrnfield began on the first Monday of November.
On the first day, the students arrived carrying their warming bags, proudly reporting that they had completed the homework she had assigned. Jade chuckled, then nodded and inspected each bag one by one.
Most were filled with barley. Some used beans or other grains. One, however, stood out – it was filled with tiny, evenly sized pebbles.
Jade glanced at the student.
Mona Longwood was one of the children from the poorest households. She had three older siblings and three younger ones – a family of nine relying almost entirely on her father’s wages from a textile factory. Her mother once worked as a laundress, but had quit to care for a newborn, a frail three-year-old, and an unruly five-year-old.
To keep the household afloat, the eldest sister had gone into service as a maid. The eldest brother became a baker’s apprentice – earning little coin, though at least securing meals and skills that benefited only himself. The second eldest brother worked on a farm, alongside Mona, who was thirteen but looked closer to ten in Jade’s eyes.
Between them, the father and the maid sister likely earned the most. Yet, with their combined wages stretched to feed nine mouths, Jade could only assume that even cheap grains were beyond reach – hence the pebbles in the warming bag.
Mona looked at her nervously, as if expecting to be scolded for not following instructions.
Jade spoke in her usual tone. “I see you’ve used it several times. How does it feel? Does it work as well as a brick warmer?”
“It’s warm,”Mona replied shyly, nodding. “Just like the brick.”
“Now. I don’t mind you using pebbles instead of grains or beans,” Jade said, returning the bag to her. “My only concern is the weight. You’ll have to carry this with you and keep it inside your clothes when you come to school in winter. It’s quite heavy. But if you’re comfortable with it…” She paused, then added lightly, “You can treat it as strength training. I don’t object.”
“It’s fine, Miss Jade,” Mona answered at once. “The weight is nothing. I can carry it all day.”
“If you say so.” Jade smiled. “Alright, back to your seat. Everyone, let’s begin today’s lesson…”
The semester progressed smoothly. The students adapted well to the new syllabus and schedule. The kitchen continued to improve after Jade’s methods for cooking offal and rendering suet proved successful. Even Mr. Anderson, who taught the larger classroom, admitted her syllabus made sense and adopted parts of it himself.
As a result, Jade received a raise, from four shillings a week to eight.
If she were living alone, the salary would have been more than sufficient. But she was responsible for a growing teenage boy, and keeping him healthy meant protein, fat, sugar, and proper nutrition.
Still gotta watch my spending, she muttered to herself as she tucked away the coins Brother James handed her.
Of all the changes, only one thing troubled her.
The disapproving look on Mr. Davidson’s face.
“Miss Jade, I would strongly advise you not to sell chips,” he said when Jade asked – after closing her biscuit stall at the corner of the Pinky Horse Grocer – whether he would object to her running a chip stall during winter. He shook his head. “Good heavens, it would be beneath you. Those who sell chips are as low as one can go. It’s hardly suitable for a respectable teacher such as yourself.”
“But Mr. Davidson, you must understand,” Jade replied after a soft sigh. “From what I’ve observed, biscuit sales drop in the cold weather. Hot chips fresh from the pot will sell far better.”
She gestured to the small stall. “Ever since the weather turned cold, it’s taken us much longer to sell everything. I don’t think it’s safe for my students to head home late once winter comes and the days grow even shorter.”
“I see your point, Miss Jade. Still, selling chips…” Mr. Davidson rubbed his chin. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind you turning my corner into a cookshop, so long as you don’t leave a greasy mess. I buy chips myself when I’m busy in the back. But people above our station would wrinkle their noses if they recognised you. It wouldn’t help your prospects for a proper marriage.”
Lowering his voice, he added, “My wife mentioned that several respectable families have inquired about you. Some even have sons who are teachers, just like you!”
Jade glanced toward Mrs. Davidson, who sat behind the counter grinding rice grains into fine, silk-like powder. They had recently decided to improve the facial cream recipe, and finely milled white rice seemed a promising addition. Mrs. Davidson noticed the look and smiled back.
“Well,” Jade said firmly, “until I’m certain the school can sustain itself through the iron oven project and the winter chip stall, I won’t be considering marriage.” She met his eyes. “My priority is ensuring my students live better lives. These projects are only the beginning. At present, only a few of them earn wages through our work, and I want to find ways to help the rest as well.”
Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, and Josh, who was standing beside her, were momentarily speechless.
“That is remarkably thoughtful of you,” Mr. Davidson said at last. “Truly kind..”
“That’s simply a teacher’s duty,” Jade replied with a small smile. “Teach them how to fish, rather than handing them the fish. That’s how one can help without spoiling them.”
Her words left Mr. Davidson searching for a response. In the end, he merely gave her a firm thumbs-up.
A few days later, after informing regular customers of the change, Jade closed the biscuit stall. By late autumn, the chip stall was ready.
She set up the newly purchased stove pot, and tools – all brand new this time, no second hand. Hygiene mattered, and she preferred not to take chances. The purchases consumed nearly all the remaining funds after ordering the iron oven, but Jade was confident the cost would soon be recovered.
She lit the fire and melted the solidified tallow while Josh prepared paper bags, the coin box, the pair of tongs for handling the chips, and, of course, the parboiled potato strips stored in a repurposed flour sack. Together, they enclosed the stall with a standing fabric screen tied to sticks and string, shielding the shop from smoke and splattering oil.
Jade lifted the lid and tested the temperature of the tallow with a pair of long chopsticks. Rather than spending coins on another pair of metal tongs, she preferred tools that could be made from cheap, easily acquired materials; carving chopsticks cost nothing, and she only bought the one and only pair of tongs because Josh struggled to use them.
Noticing the tiny bubbles forming at the tips of the wood – a sign the oil was ready – Jade was satisfied, and slid the potato strips into the pot. She flipped the three-minute hourglass she had bought specifically for timing the chips, and closed the lid again to keep smoke from filling the grocer.
Mr. Davidson, who had been watching the master and her apprentice, looked startled as the potatoes went into the oil. “Miss Jade, I thought you said you were selling chips?”
“Yes, I am,” Jade replied. She pointed to the sack behind them, resting in the luggage basket to keep the softened, parboiled potatoes from losing their shape. Once they took out the amount they needed, Josh carefully covered it again with a shallow basket to keep it clean. “Potatoes cut into pieces and fried in tallow. That’s chips alright.”
To prepare that many potato strips, Jade had hired several older students – whom she believe could safely handle knives – from Mr. Anderson’s classroom. Her own older students were tied to their existing jobs, while Mr. Anderson had a handful of students who worked as free-moving farmhands.
Though, when first approached him about it, Mr. Anderson had been surprised. “Why, Miss Jade, I never thought you’d come to inquire about my students. We usually keep to our own classes.”
“Well, we’re in the same school, Mr. Anderson,” Jade had replied. “We may not interact much, but we’re both trying to do our students good. If this works, it benefits them.”
Mr. Anderson had agreed at once.
Now, seeing Mr. Davidson approached with a question, Jade felt a flicker of concern.
“Is there something I should improve?” she asked. “I can add more fabric to the screen if that’s your worry–”
“No, no, Miss Jade, you’re doing fine,” The shopkeeper said quickly. He peered into the pot as Jade lifted the lid to show him the chips. “It’s just… this isn’t what I expected.”
“Huh?” Jade glanced at him.
“These are Mellian fries, aren’t they?” He rubbed his chin. “I ordered them once uptown when I took my wife out to dinner. Looked just like this! Miss Jade, those toffs pay a crown for a plate o’ chips not half the size of what you’re selling for a penny. Only difference is theirs come with a napkin!”
Seeing the furrow in Mr. Davidson’s brow, Jade knew he wasn’t displeased with her chip, but with something else. So, she smiled politely to go along with the small talk, “I guess they use rare seasonings then. And butter, not tallow; that alone would cost a pretty penny.”
“Bah,” Mr. Davidson pursed his lips. “If that’s all it takes, my wife could’ve made it herself.”
Unsure how else to steer the conversation, Jade filled a paper bag and handed it to him. “Here, have some. Consider it today’s rent. A large bag’s a penny, a small one’s a halfpenny, and here’s a large one for yah!”
“Much obliged.” Mr. Davidson took a bite. His eyes widened. “Miss Jade… this is better than the one I had uptown!”
“Really?” Jade laughed softly. “Then I supposed I don’t need to worry about winter then.”
Mr. Davidson excused himself at once and carried the bag to his wife. Jade turned back to the pot and packed several small bags for her newsboy students. “This counts as part of your wages today. Eat while you advertise the stall, alright?”
“Alright, Miss Jade!” The children scattered eagerly.
And that day’s sales exceeded all expectations, so much so that Jade doubled her stock the very next day.