The Miserable Mill

"If we're lucky," Violet said. "Now, go to sleep."

Klaus glanced at his older sister. "Yes, sir," he said, quietly. He shut his eyes and immediately fell asleep. The eldest Baudelaire tucked the blanket around her brother and took a long, worried glance at him. Then she took Su

"Come in!" The children recognized the booming voice of Sir, and nervously opened the door to the office. Sir was sitting at an enormous desk made of dark, dark wood, still smoking a cigar so his face could not be seen behind the cloud of smoke. The desk was covered with papers and folders, and there was a name-plate that read "The Boss" in letters made of chewed-up gum, just like the lumbermill sign outside. It was difficult to see the rest of the room, because there was only one tiny light in the room, which sat on Sir's desk. Next to Sir stood Charles, who gave the children a shy smile as they walked up to their guardian.

"Do you have an appointment?" Sir asked. "No," Violet said, "but it's very important that I talk to you."

"I'll decide what's very important!" Sir barked. "You see this nameplate? It says 'The Boss,' and that's who I am! It's very important when I say it's very important, understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Violet said, "but I think you'll agree with me when I explain what's been going on."

"I know what's been going on," Sir said. "I'm the boss! Of course I know! Didn't you get my memo about the accident?"

Violet took a deep breath and looked Sir in the eye, or at least the part of the cloud of smoke where she thought his eye probably was. "The accident," she said finally, "happened because Klaus was hypnotized."

"What your brother does for a hobby is none of my concern," Sir said, "and it doesn't excuse accidents."

"You don't understand, Sir," Violet said. "Klaus was hypnotized by Dr. Orwell, who is in cahoots with Count Olaf."

"Oh no!" Charles said. "You poor children! Sir, we have to put a stop to this!"

"We are putting a stop to this!" Sir said. "You children will cause no more accidents, and you'll be safely employed by this lumbermill. Otherwise, out you go!"

"Sir!" Charles cried. "You wouldn't throw the children out into the street!"

"Of course not," Sir said. "As I explained in my memo, I met a very nice young lady who works as a receptionist. When I mentioned there were three children in my care, she said that if you were ever any trouble, she'd take you, because she'd always wanted children of her own."

"Palsh!" Su

"That's Count Olaf!" Violet cried.

"Do I look like an idiot to you?" Sir asked, pointing to his cloud. "I have a complete description of Count Olaf from Mr. Poe, and this receptionist looked nothing like him. She was a very nice lady."

"Did you look for the tattoo?" Charles asked. "Count Olaf has a tattoo on his ankle, remember?"

"Of course I didn't look for the tattoo," Sir said impatiently. "It's not polite to look at a woman's legs."

"But she's not a woman!" Violet burst out. "I mean, he's not a woman! He's Count Olaf!"

"I saw her nameplate," Sir said. "It didn't say 'Count Olaf.' It said 'Shirley.'"

"Fiti!" Su

"Hypnosis! Count Olaf! Fiti! I've had enough of your excuses!" he yelled. "Your job is to work hard at the lumbermill, not cause accidents! I am busy enough without having to deal with clumsy children!"

Quickly, Violet thought of something else. "Well, can we call Mr. Poe?" she asked. "He knows all about Count Olaf, so perhaps he can be helpful." Violet did not add that Mr. Poe was not usually a very helpful person.

"You want to add the cost of a long-distance phone call to the burden of caring for you?" Sir asked. "I think not. Let me put it to you in the simplest way I can: If you screw up again, I will give you away to Shirley."

"Now, Sir," Charles said. "These are children. You shouldn't talk to them this way. As you remember, I never thought it was a good idea for the Baudelaires to work in the mill. They should be treated like members of the family."

"They are being treated like members of the family," Sir said. "Many of my cousins live there in the dormitory. I refuse to argue with you, Charles! You're my partner! Your job is to iron my shirts and cook my omelettes, not boss me around!"

"You're right, of course," Charles said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Now get out of here, all of you!" Sir barked. "I have lots of work to do!"

Su

"Don't worry," Charles whispered. "I'll help you."

"How?" Violet whispered back. "Will you call Mr. Poe and tell him Count Olaf is here?"

"Ulo?" Su

"Will you hide us from Shirley?" Violet asked.

"Henipul?" Su

"No," Charles admitted. "I can't do any of those things. Sir would get mad at me, and we can't have that. But tomorrow, I will try and sneak you some raisins at lunchtime. O.K.?"

It was not O.K., of course, not at all. Raisins are healthy, and they are inexpensive, and some people may even find them delicious. But they are rarely considered helpful. In fact, raisins were one of the least helpful things Charles could offer, if he really wanted to help. But Violet didn't answer him. She was looking down the hallway and thinking. Su

CHAPTER Eleven

As we have discussed previously, a book's first sentence can often tell you what sort of story the book contains. This book, you will remember, began with the sentence "The Baudelaire orphans looked out the grimy window of the train and gazed at the gloomy blackness of the Finite Forest, wondering if their lives would ever get any better," and the story has certainly been as wretched and hopeless as the first sentence promised it would be. I only bring this up now so you can understand the feeling of dread that Violet and Su