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Updated: June 14, 2025
They wanted a boy to sell newspapers on trams running out over the Grand Trunk Railway. I took the job the last job in the world I should have expected to hold, because of all the places a newsboy's job is one where you need to have a voice and the ability to talk. I hope no stammerer ever has a position that causes him as much humiliation and suffering as that job caused me.
What patrol do you belong to? I'm Panther Patrol, New York." "New York Wolf Patrol," was the reply. "What you doin' here with the ragged army? Say, but they'd make a hit on a Bowery stoige, them soldiers." "What do you know about the Bowery?" demanded the drummer. "Have you been reading about it in the Newsboy's Delight?" "I know every inch of the Bowery," was the indignant reply.
All erbout the great election frauds!" Hardly crediting his ears, Blount listened again, and when the cry was repeated he closed the window softly and sat down to grapple with this newest development of his problem. Did the newsboy's selling-cry mean that Blenkinsop had found out for himself, and independently, about the falsified registration lists?
"There's a car downstairs," said Robin, "and a guide to show us the way. Shall we go?" Five minutes later, under the newsboy's expert guidance, the car drew up in front of the small clean house with the neat green door bearing the name of "Schulz." Leaving the boy to mind the car, they rang the bell. The door was opened by the fat woman in the pink print dress. Robin gave the woman his card.
The night did not demand the overcoat but Sam wore it out of an excess of pride in its possession. The overcoat had an air. It had been made by Gunther the tailor after a design sketched on the back of a piece of wrapping paper by John Telfer and had been paid for out of the newsboy's savings. The little German tailor, after a talk with Valmore and Telfer, had made it at a marvellously low price.
The sight of her troubled face aroused not only all Towsley's chivalry, but that of the reporter also. Instantly, he regretted that he had so promptly availed himself of the newsboy's "ghost story," and had thought more of furnishing "copy" than of a gentlewoman's feelings. "For she's not the sort will like to have her private experiences made public gossip," he reflected, ruefully.
There were but few guests stirring at that hour, and Blount had the writing-room to himself when he bought a copy of The Plainsman and turned anxiously to the editorial page. After the first thrilling of relief born of the newsboy's cry, an unnerving fear had crept in to whisper that possibly the facts might not bear out the thankful assumption.
He decided that in all likelihood it was the one on Michigan avenue, the other was somewhere on the North Side. When he came to the first cross street he saw a passing taxi and hailed it. The driver had some suspicion as to the ability of his customer to pay, for Ted was still in his newsboy's clothes. However, Ted proved he had the necessary funds and satisfied the chauffeur.
It was impossible to disobey. He stood there and saw her turn the corner, buffeted by the wind, and disappear. Then he became conscious of a newsboy's shrieking: "Last 'dition All 'bout the Burton trad-egy!" Part III It was a June day with the sparkle and lilt of summer's brightest and tunefulest mood in the sky and a softness and warmth in the air.
I thought how the little newsboy's face would have brightened if he could have seen it, and hoped that he might not be beyond all knowledge of it now. We have had an opportunity to observe some fine-looking Chinamen who have been at work on the railroad all winter opposite our house. There are a hundred or more of them. We understand that they are from the rural districts of China.
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