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Updated: May 18, 2025
Mr Myson stepped into the publishing office and Denry with him, and they there beheld a small ragged boy with a bleeding nose and a bundle of Dailys in his wounded hand. The two directors learnt that the delicate threat had been uttered by four Signal boys, who had objected to any fellow-boys offering any paper other than the Signal for sale in Crown Square or anywhere else.
Truly the Five Towns was just about as big. The dizzy journalistic intoxication seized him. He did not give Mr Myson an answer at once, but he gave himself an answer at once. He would go into the immense adventure. He was very friendly with the Signal people certainly; but business was business, and the highest welfare of the Five Towns was the highest welfare of the Five Towns.
"And who put you on to me?" asked Denry. Mr Myson smiled. "I put myself on to you," said he. "I think I may say I've got my bearings in the Five Towns, after over a year's journalism in it, and it appeared to me that you were the best man I could approach. I always believe in flying high." Therein was Denry flattered.
Still, unthinkable as it was, it continued. Mr Myson had thought of everything except this. Naturally it had not occurred to him that an immense and serious effort for the general weal was going to be blocked by a gang of tatterdemalions.
Mr Myson had obtained boys only after persistent inquiry and demand, and such as he had found were not the fittest, and therefore were unlikely to survive. You would have supposed that in a district that never ceases to grumble about bad trade and unemployment, thousands of boys would have been delighted to buy the Daily at fourpence a dozen and sell it at sixpence. But it was not so.
He complained with dignity to the Signal, and was informed with dignity by the Signal that the Signal could not be responsible for the playful antics of its boys in the streets; that, in short, the Five Towns was a free country. In the latter proposition Mr Myson did not concur.
Mr Myson's homage to Mrs Machin, whom they chanced on in the paradise of the bath-room, was the polished mirror of courtesy. How Denry wished that he could behave like that when he happened to meet countesses. Then, once more in the drawing-room, they resumed the subject of newspapers. "You know," said Mr Myson, "it's really a very bad thing indeed for a district to have only one daily newspaper.
"'No quarter to any one of them! roared Watts when he heard this; 'the cowards lashed Captain Eury and poor Mr. Myson to the bows of the boats, and our own fire has killed them. "He sprang to the third gun, the white seaman to the fourth, and waited for the other three boats, which, undaunted by the dreadful slaughter, were dashing on bravely.
Mr Myson, mystified, thought that there had been a mistake in the advertisement, but there was no mistake in the advertisement. A little later two more men came. Of the six, three were tipsy, and the other three absolutely declined to be seen selling papers in the streets. Two were abusive, one facetious. Mr Myson did not know his Five Towns; nor did Denry.
For this pink thing was the symbol and result of the whole affair, and had the effect of a miracle on him. And he said to himself, never guessing how many thousands of men had said it before him, that a newspaper was the finest toy in the world. About four o'clock the publisher, in shirt sleeves and an apron, came up to Mr Myson and respectfully asked him to step into the publishing office.
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