Fresh, thin air freezes the lungs of
a newsboy. His feet are crooked to rest his sore arches and prevent the cold
that lingers on the concrete from seeping through his boots. With pleading
eyes, the boy, his frozen fingers clasped on his papers, urges people to come and
buy his burdens. Customers pass by vanishing into the distant smudge of snow
and gray without even noticing the poor child. His breath billows around him as
frosty, bitter winds
swirls thought the city, pushing his red-nosed customers into the depths of wintery
New York. Emptiness sweeps through his frail bones as he stands alone by the
light post. Watery light drenches around him and the barren city. This cold
light is foreboding. Teeth chattering, the boy frowns as his only chance to
help his poor family is swept away. The dampness of the day comforts him as he
looks at the place where the people he begged vanished. Selling the papers
required the newsboys to mash and twist the headlines, tug the sympathy of
their customers, and bombarded society with devilish tricks at all costs.
Headlines, both good and bad, was
the way a newsie made the money that they needed to survive, but it would have
to be just right if a newsboy was to be successful. First, hawking, or selling,
newspapers needed more than just a paper; a headline had to be good. Each good
headline could affect the way the newsie felt on a day. Weather, season,
sports, or anything else could help the newspapers sell. Susan Bartoletti,
author of “Kids on Strike,” writes
“The more war, murder, mayhem, and disaster, the happier the newsies seemed to
be.”(Kids on Strike) Second, a
headline wouldn’t be the best all the time. If a headline was horrible, the
newsies, using their devious ways, would twist and mash it around to make it
sound more exhilarating to alert their patrons. Although mixing the headlines
around was beneficial, calling out “Extra! Extra! Read all about it!” seemed to
work too, even if it didn’t work as well. As well as calling
out “Extra,” Susan Bartoletti claims anything at
all from Washington DC or the Whitehouse would sell easily, made up or
completely true. (Kids on Strike) For
example, Philip Marcus was a newsboy. He recalls yelling, “Read
all about the White House scandal! The White House scandal! Read all about it!” (Kids on Strike)
Even
if editing headlines was on a newsie’s agenda, messing with people’s sympathy
was a dominant way to sell newspapers. To begin, the injuries, both real and
fake, mixed up the sympathy of the newsboys customers. With so many newsboys
that had lost limbs trying to hop about a trolley, one woman felt eager to do
something. She started a fund to earn money to buy wooden legs for the newsies,
but they refused. The more helpless they looked, the more papers they could
sell, even if there were fake cripples. Not only did crutches and empty pant
legs help sell the papers, but they also evoked more tips from customers. Next,
having an illness of any kind prodded the sympathy of the newsies’ customers.
Coughs, colds, and running noses, any type of illness, would make the customers
feel bad for the newsboys, and give them an extra bit or tip. Being hungry,
which was on a regular basis, could also lead to illness, so the customers did
what they could to help. To conclude, tears of any kind brought in more
sympathy- and more money- for the newsboys of 1899. Being poor with little
family on the streets made customers relies the issues around them. Those poor
newsies one may think. A man by the name of Philip Marcus was a newsie during
this time. He told Susan Bartoletti that he, one day, had made a deal with guy.
Philip remembered that he said he’d buy all of the guy’s papers. That is when
he discovered that there was much too many for him to sell. Knowing that losing
money was a big deal, he bawled out all his sorrow. But while he was letting
his tears rain down, people kept on coming until all of his newspapers were
gone. “And while I was standing there bawling,” Philip continued his tale to
Susan Bartoletti, “I sold all them sheets.” (Kids on Strike)
Although their sorrow was just a way to sell
papers, playing tricks, or dodges, was another kind of way to make a quick
profit. For starter, change given to customers made all the difference to a
newsboy because it was one of the most common of tricks around. In a hurry, a
customer may make his or her way down the streets. This customer may stop to
buy a paper from a newsie, but it could be a mistake. Waiting impatiently, the
customer watches the newsboy fumble around his pockets looking for the change. Still
taking his time fumbling for the customer’s change, the newsie waited and hoped
that the customer would be too impatient to wait for their change. Again,
Philip Marcus retells a tale of one of his experiences. He remembers that the
newsboys would run up along the sides of a streetcar to sell the day’s papers.
The customer may need change, but they had to wait for the newsie to look, and
look, and look until the car started to go, and the Newsie couldn’t catch up. (Kids on Strike) Next, being inattentive
could lead to less change that was supposed to be given. A customer could get
three pennies instead of four. Susan Bartoletti writes of this sneaky dodge.
Some customers would notice the issue, and turn back to teach the newsboy,
who played them like a lute, a lesson. Sun shines down on
the streets of New York City. Footsteps bounce off the concrete until they end
at the feet of a Newsie. On such a beautiful
day, the customer observes the trees in the
nearby park rustle in the summer breeze. “One paper please,”
the person hands the boy nickel. Still watching the birds soar high from
tree to tree. Jolted back to reality, the customer notices three shiny pennies
in their palm. With papers being only one cent, the customer doesn’t
realize that they got cheated as they stroll of into the city park. Finally,
rough, burly newsboys of 1899 were ready to pick a fight along with their other
dirty tricks to sell their papers. Some boys would take on a territory like a
busy street corner. If someone tried to pull in to sell some newspapers, the
corner “owner” would sweep in to get rid of the pest. On the other hand, a fake
fight could earn just as much money, or more. During a blistering hot July day
in City Park, New York of 1899, disturbing wails echoed around the buildings,
sending dreadful chills down the spines of Brooklynites. People rushed in to
view a heavy-set boy with a plump belly standing above a scrawny boy with dirt
covered clothes; the smaller one bore a couple of bruises. Rising with
trembling distress and determination, the thin boy plants a fist to the other,
but is quickly thwacked back like a fly. With the battered boy writhing in pain
on the earth, the plumper newsboy shreds a couple of the papers and he
vanishes, leaving tatters in his place. That poor boy people contemplate as they
eagerly crowd around the slightly tattered boy, change rattling in their
pockets. After the customers disperse from buying the frayed papers, the
scruffy boy hops up and takes his newfound money to the café as if nothing ever
happened to him. Joy spreads across his face as he settles down next to his
friend, the plump boy who pounded him. They push juice
filled pie into their mouths, not really worried on how ill-mannered they look.
Customers far off grumble at the shredded papers. The papers they
had just bought are a couple of weeks old. (The
New York Times July 6, 1899)
Converting the headlines, revealing sympathy,
and using innovative tricks all assisted the Newsies to get their customers’
attention and make a profit. Being a sleek fox to preserve as much money as
possible is what the newsboys of the late 1800’s did. The streets of New York
were being filled with the newsboys, helping others know that they could overwhelm
any obstacle with strength of mind. Any risk was worth taking for a Newsie if
they were to live a prosperous life.
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