The Newsies
INTRODUCTION (Chapter One)
CHAPTER ONE (Introduction)
During 1901 children were known only as "Little Rascals" or "Thieves." Well, most of the time... This was true, unfortunately, and applied to the lives of these children. Most of the time, when this idea applied to children, it was either runaways or orphans. In New York, appearing in a little town near Brooklyn, beside the Brooklyn Bridge and just behind the states Penitentiary was a lodging house for young boys of the type I've explained. (Runaways, Orphans and thieves) Most of these boys got into a lot of trouble. Although, being very anxious for the headlines of the papes during these boring days, the rest were honest and good... Kind of...
"Its already been two hours..." Mumbled Mr. Kloppmann, the housekeeper of the Lodging house.
"Two hours... I thought that I was supposed to wake them up.... Two hours late, HUMPH!" He murmured under breathes. He was a very strict man but also liked the boys very much. Even though they all caused him trouble, he still thought they were, "Perfect little angels." Or at least that is what he had to say to the Johnsons everyday after they claimed to see Jack Kelly shooting marbles through their windows. Oh yes, Jack Kelly was the "Leader" of the newsies. He sold the most papes everyday due to his "Talent" as he called it. (More of persuasion and lies.) Anyways, Kloppmann began to get irritated with their ignorance of being off time for their newspaper selling, so he decided to wake them up. Stomping up the staircase, Mr. Kloppmann began to quietly curse under his breath in a very mean manner.
"Just wait 'til I get a hold of ya, you horrible little devils, you!" As you can see, Kloppmann is a man who can barely make up his mind. As he stomped through the hallway, he knew that they were still asleep, because he could hear Snitch (A boy in a bad habit of thumb-sucking) snoring loudly. This time, Kloppmann did NOT quietly go in there and wake them up one by one. This time, he went in and thumped his fist against a wall a few times, very hard.
"GET UP, YOU LOUSY GOOD-FOR-NOTHINS!" He shouted, still banging away on the wall.
"Huh!?" Gasped Racetrack. As you know, Racetrack was one of the runaways or orphans living there, and he was the kid NEXT in row of Jack. He got his name from the various times he went to go to Races and watch the Tracks. Anyway, when Racetrack gasped, he jumped and woke up. This woke Jack up as well, since most of them had to sleep at the other end of each other's beds due to low money for beds. Race's foot slammed right into Jack's right cheek and sent Jack hopping almost two feet in the air.
"Hey, watch it, Race! Can't a kid get a little sleep without being kicked every mornin'? Gally Peete!" Jack shouted, quite furious at his best friend, Race, who now was very red in the face. Race shrugged and tried to apologize, but for some reason, his words did not want to come out. Jack gave him one long look and shot out of bed.
"Boots!" Jack shouted. Boots was ANOTHER kid (As you can see, the house was quite crowded) who lived in the Lodging house. Boots was a little African-American boy. Although he was little, he was big in his temper and heart.
"Hiya, Jack? What'd ya hear? What'd ya say?" Boots tapped Jack's arm (Even if he had to reach pretty far up to do so) and smiled, brightly.
"Hey," Jack replied, bitterly. "Don't act like you did nuttin'. I see that my hat is gone, ya hear, little shrimp." Jack now changed his expression to very friendly. He often did this, especially since he had a reputation to keep. Boots then rolled his eyes and handed over Jack's "Cowboy Hat" as he called it. Most other boys there were true New Yorkians. They wore flat caps and worn out vests. Jack was not at all like this. Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to go to Santa Fe. No one knew why. He just kept saying, "I want space!" And of course, the boys being boys, thought he meant they were to close to him. So they kept away most of the time. Anyway, Jack dressed like a cowboy most of the time. With an ascot, rancher hat and vest he was suited up for his dream trip to ol' Santa Fe.
"ALRIGHT! Quit your playin'. Get to work." Kloppmann shouted. And at that, the boys were off to sell papes.
During 1901 children were known only as "Little Rascals" or "Thieves." Well, most of the time... This was true, unfortunately, and applied to the lives of these children. Most of the time, when this idea applied to children, it was either runaways or orphans. In New York, appearing in a little town near Brooklyn, beside the Brooklyn Bridge and just behind the states Penitentiary was a lodging house for young boys of the type I've explained. (Runaways, Orphans and thieves) Most of these boys got into a lot of trouble. Although, being very anxious for the headlines of the papes during these boring days, the rest were honest and good... Kind of...
"Its already been two hours..." Mumbled Mr. Kloppmann, the housekeeper of the Lodging house.
"Two hours... I thought that I was supposed to wake them up.... Two hours late, HUMPH!" He murmured under breathes. He was a very strict man but also liked the boys very much. Even though they all caused him trouble, he still thought they were, "Perfect little angels." Or at least that is what he had to say to the Johnsons everyday after they claimed to see Jack Kelly shooting marbles through their windows. Oh yes, Jack Kelly was the "Leader" of the newsies. He sold the most papes everyday due to his "Talent" as he called it. (More of persuasion and lies.) Anyways, Kloppmann began to get irritated with their ignorance of being off time for their newspaper selling, so he decided to wake them up. Stomping up the staircase, Mr. Kloppmann began to quietly curse under his breath in a very mean manner.
"Just wait 'til I get a hold of ya, you horrible little devils, you!" As you can see, Kloppmann is a man who can barely make up his mind. As he stomped through the hallway, he knew that they were still asleep, because he could hear Snitch (A boy in a bad habit of thumb-sucking) snoring loudly. This time, Kloppmann did NOT quietly go in there and wake them up one by one. This time, he went in and thumped his fist against a wall a few times, very hard.
"GET UP, YOU LOUSY GOOD-FOR-NOTHINS!" He shouted, still banging away on the wall.
"Huh!?" Gasped Racetrack. As you know, Racetrack was one of the runaways or orphans living there, and he was the kid NEXT in row of Jack. He got his name from the various times he went to go to Races and watch the Tracks. Anyway, when Racetrack gasped, he jumped and woke up. This woke Jack up as well, since most of them had to sleep at the other end of each other's beds due to low money for beds. Race's foot slammed right into Jack's right cheek and sent Jack hopping almost two feet in the air.
"Hey, watch it, Race! Can't a kid get a little sleep without being kicked every mornin'? Gally Peete!" Jack shouted, quite furious at his best friend, Race, who now was very red in the face. Race shrugged and tried to apologize, but for some reason, his words did not want to come out. Jack gave him one long look and shot out of bed.
"Boots!" Jack shouted. Boots was ANOTHER kid (As you can see, the house was quite crowded) who lived in the Lodging house. Boots was a little African-American boy. Although he was little, he was big in his temper and heart.
"Hiya, Jack? What'd ya hear? What'd ya say?" Boots tapped Jack's arm (Even if he had to reach pretty far up to do so) and smiled, brightly.
"Hey," Jack replied, bitterly. "Don't act like you did nuttin'. I see that my hat is gone, ya hear, little shrimp." Jack now changed his expression to very friendly. He often did this, especially since he had a reputation to keep. Boots then rolled his eyes and handed over Jack's "Cowboy Hat" as he called it. Most other boys there were true New Yorkians. They wore flat caps and worn out vests. Jack was not at all like this. Ever since he was a kid, he wanted to go to Santa Fe. No one knew why. He just kept saying, "I want space!" And of course, the boys being boys, thought he meant they were to close to him. So they kept away most of the time. Anyway, Jack dressed like a cowboy most of the time. With an ascot, rancher hat and vest he was suited up for his dream trip to ol' Santa Fe.
"ALRIGHT! Quit your playin'. Get to work." Kloppmann shouted. And at that, the boys were off to sell papes.