Title: Lost and Found- If ya have a better idea for a title, send a review Pleez!

Author: Me. You can call me whatever you want, though now I'm commonly known as The Gremlin

Disclaimer: Sorry to say, but I don't own any of the characters from the movie "Newsies" (yeah I'm a newsies addict too) but I DO own the narrator of the story. If ya have any idea of a name for her, review pleez!

"Wha…wha…where? Where am I?" I asked, dazed and confused. There I was, laying on the sidewalk in New York. I saw a boy about my age standing over me, with his greasy black hair and a stack of "The World" tucked under his arm.

"Eh, yous in New Yoik, gurly." He muttered in his heavy accent. "Da boys call me Racetrack. I bet yous new in the Big City.  You were just ran off the road by a coach. Yous all right?"

I looked at him, expecting him to help me up. "Are you gonna help me, or stand there gawking?" I asked.

"Well, lookie what we got here! A lady! Here, malady, I'd be glad ta help yous up."  He replied cheerfully with a hint of sarcasm.

He held out his free hand and helped me up.  All of a sudden I knew who he was.  It was one o' the newsies who had gone on strike just a while back! I did need a job… "Hey you- you know where I can get a job as a newsie?"

The boy just laughed. "A lady? A newsie? HA! Well, if yous don't mind, I'll take you to da boarding house and Cowboy can check ya out."

I was only 14 and a half, dressed up in a blue silk dress, carrying only a small amount of change for room and board.  I was orphaned and sent off to work by my Aunt Ellie.  She did despise me so.  I was a little larger than usual, but no, not fat, athletic perhaps, with fine yet plentiful blonde hair tied up in ringlets- my pride and joy.

He led me through the winding streets, as I smelled the wretched odour of city life.  Finally we reached the dorms.  Racetrack knocked and then walked right in.  In the center of the room stood the infamous Jack Kelley.

"Eh, Racetrack! What yous draggin' in today?"

"This lady says she wants ta be a newsie, Jackieboy"

The tall 17 year old looked me up and down.  "This aint no newsie." With these words he looked into my face.  "I wanna see a newsie by 6 o'clock at the diner, not no dollface lookin' for a job.  If ya can't do dat, ya better go lookin' for a job at a seamstress's, gurly!"