* This chapter is dedicated to Sapphy. *
Chapter Four
One week later, despite Denton's good luck wishes and the notice in the paper, we had yet to find Mouse. Everyday, we alternated hawking headlines with asking passerby if they had seen a small, five-year-old boy wandering the streets. Their answers were always negative, yet they often bought a paper out of pity for our cause. Improved sales, however, could not lift our spirits. Although Mouse had only spent one night in our humble lodging house, we had adopted him as a younger brother of sorts, someone to tease and teach and watch grow and learn. A pall seemed to fall over the lodge, dampening our normally high spirits. We had expected the new member in our ranks to stay for years, not disappear after a single night.
Early one morning, David and I were hawking headlines, letting Les dart through the crowd, using his "sickly child" act to trick unsuspecting customers into buying. I usually gave him a few papes, and he spent five or ten minutes working the crowd, so I was surprised when he ran back after only a minute or two.
"Wow, kid, did you sell all those already?" I asked, laughing at Les's breathless appearance.
"No, I saw Mouse!" he exclaimed.
"Are you sure?" David asked, skeptical of his little brother's proclamation.
"Uh-huh!" Les affirmed. "He was with some real rich lady in a blue dress, and he was all dressed up in a fancy suit, but it was Mouse."
"Did you see which way they went?" I asked. Les nodded, pointing down the street toward the wealthiest section of town. "All right, let's go," I said, grabbing Les's arm and dragging him through the crowded city streets. "Go tell the others!" I shouted back to David, who nodded and took off in the opposite direction, spreading the word to the rest of the newsies. In less than an hour, all of the newsies in Manhattan and most of the newsies in Brooklyn would be on the lookout for an affluent lady in a blue dress and a little boy wearing a suit.
Meanwhile, Les and I were scouring the streets of Manhattan's most prosperous district, hoping to find Mouse and his new guardian before they returned home.
"There he is!" Les told me, tugging at my sleeve and pointing ahead. Sure enough, a middle-aged lady in a cerulean dress was standing on the roadside, clutching the hand of a short, well-dressed boy.
I walked up to them, pulling a newspaper off the top of my stack. "Hello, ma'am, would you like to buy a paper?" Before she could answer, I crouched in front of the little boy, lifting his cap up slightly so that I could see his eyes. 'Your name wouldn't happen to be Mouse, would it?" I asked.
The little boy's eyes grew big, and he gaped up at me. He tugged his hand free of the lady's grasp and wrapped both arms around my waist in a furious embrace. I was shocked by this exuberant demonstration of affection, but before I could say anything, the lady spoke.
"Michael, what are you doing?" she asked, clearly shocked at the little boy's behavior.
"Excuse me, ma'am, is this your child?" I wondered, trying to be polite and stand up straight, although it was difficult with Mouse clinging to me.
"Well, no, I suppose not," she replied stiffly. "I plan on adopting him."
"You didn't happen to find him on the street selling papers, did you?"
"Yes, but that's no life for a little boy," she admonished. Mouse seemed oblivious to our discussion; he made no response to any of the lady's comments.
"Well, we kind of miss having him around," I remarked.
"You mean he has a family?" she asked, surprised.
This question, for some reason, stunned me, and I hesitated before answering. With Ma dead and my father in the pen, I suppose I had always considered the newsies to be my family, although I had never actually called them that before. "Yeah," I answered finally, faltering at first, but then growing surer, "yeah. He does have a family.
The lady still seemed uncertain. "Well, I suppose I can't very well keep him, then," she said. I wasn't sure, but she seemed disappointed to lose Mouse. She, like the newsies, had developed a bond with Mouse, enjoying his quiet courage and loyalty.
"Would you like him to visit you, ma'am?" I asked, sensing that, despite her extravagant gown, her life might be lacking in the love and family that we newsies had come to take for granted.
"Yes," she replied, her face brightening slightly at the thought of seeing "Michael" once more. "I live in that house," she added, pointing to a large white house about a bock away. "Visit anytime. And," she continued, her voice softening with concern, "if he ever needs anything, please---come ask me."
"Of course, "" I agreed. "Mouse, ya think you should say good-bye to this nice lady?"
Mouse pulled away from me slightly and looked up at the lady. He raised his hand in a wave, smiling timidly. The lady leaned down and gave him a hurried kiss on the cheek, then stood and faced me again.
"Well, I hope to see you again soon," she said, "and take good care of him for me. Good-bye, Michael." With these words, she walked away, blending into the vibrant Manhattan crowds.
Les scampered over to us as soon as the lady was gone. "What happened, Jack?"
I hushed him and bent down to talk to Mouse. "So, Mouse, are you ready to be a newsie again?" I asked.
The grin that lit up his face could only mean one thing.
To Sapphy: The Mousey has been found, and he's all yours now...enjoy!
Review, review, review!
Chapter Four
One week later, despite Denton's good luck wishes and the notice in the paper, we had yet to find Mouse. Everyday, we alternated hawking headlines with asking passerby if they had seen a small, five-year-old boy wandering the streets. Their answers were always negative, yet they often bought a paper out of pity for our cause. Improved sales, however, could not lift our spirits. Although Mouse had only spent one night in our humble lodging house, we had adopted him as a younger brother of sorts, someone to tease and teach and watch grow and learn. A pall seemed to fall over the lodge, dampening our normally high spirits. We had expected the new member in our ranks to stay for years, not disappear after a single night.
Early one morning, David and I were hawking headlines, letting Les dart through the crowd, using his "sickly child" act to trick unsuspecting customers into buying. I usually gave him a few papes, and he spent five or ten minutes working the crowd, so I was surprised when he ran back after only a minute or two.
"Wow, kid, did you sell all those already?" I asked, laughing at Les's breathless appearance.
"No, I saw Mouse!" he exclaimed.
"Are you sure?" David asked, skeptical of his little brother's proclamation.
"Uh-huh!" Les affirmed. "He was with some real rich lady in a blue dress, and he was all dressed up in a fancy suit, but it was Mouse."
"Did you see which way they went?" I asked. Les nodded, pointing down the street toward the wealthiest section of town. "All right, let's go," I said, grabbing Les's arm and dragging him through the crowded city streets. "Go tell the others!" I shouted back to David, who nodded and took off in the opposite direction, spreading the word to the rest of the newsies. In less than an hour, all of the newsies in Manhattan and most of the newsies in Brooklyn would be on the lookout for an affluent lady in a blue dress and a little boy wearing a suit.
Meanwhile, Les and I were scouring the streets of Manhattan's most prosperous district, hoping to find Mouse and his new guardian before they returned home.
"There he is!" Les told me, tugging at my sleeve and pointing ahead. Sure enough, a middle-aged lady in a cerulean dress was standing on the roadside, clutching the hand of a short, well-dressed boy.
I walked up to them, pulling a newspaper off the top of my stack. "Hello, ma'am, would you like to buy a paper?" Before she could answer, I crouched in front of the little boy, lifting his cap up slightly so that I could see his eyes. 'Your name wouldn't happen to be Mouse, would it?" I asked.
The little boy's eyes grew big, and he gaped up at me. He tugged his hand free of the lady's grasp and wrapped both arms around my waist in a furious embrace. I was shocked by this exuberant demonstration of affection, but before I could say anything, the lady spoke.
"Michael, what are you doing?" she asked, clearly shocked at the little boy's behavior.
"Excuse me, ma'am, is this your child?" I wondered, trying to be polite and stand up straight, although it was difficult with Mouse clinging to me.
"Well, no, I suppose not," she replied stiffly. "I plan on adopting him."
"You didn't happen to find him on the street selling papers, did you?"
"Yes, but that's no life for a little boy," she admonished. Mouse seemed oblivious to our discussion; he made no response to any of the lady's comments.
"Well, we kind of miss having him around," I remarked.
"You mean he has a family?" she asked, surprised.
This question, for some reason, stunned me, and I hesitated before answering. With Ma dead and my father in the pen, I suppose I had always considered the newsies to be my family, although I had never actually called them that before. "Yeah," I answered finally, faltering at first, but then growing surer, "yeah. He does have a family.
The lady still seemed uncertain. "Well, I suppose I can't very well keep him, then," she said. I wasn't sure, but she seemed disappointed to lose Mouse. She, like the newsies, had developed a bond with Mouse, enjoying his quiet courage and loyalty.
"Would you like him to visit you, ma'am?" I asked, sensing that, despite her extravagant gown, her life might be lacking in the love and family that we newsies had come to take for granted.
"Yes," she replied, her face brightening slightly at the thought of seeing "Michael" once more. "I live in that house," she added, pointing to a large white house about a bock away. "Visit anytime. And," she continued, her voice softening with concern, "if he ever needs anything, please---come ask me."
"Of course, "" I agreed. "Mouse, ya think you should say good-bye to this nice lady?"
Mouse pulled away from me slightly and looked up at the lady. He raised his hand in a wave, smiling timidly. The lady leaned down and gave him a hurried kiss on the cheek, then stood and faced me again.
"Well, I hope to see you again soon," she said, "and take good care of him for me. Good-bye, Michael." With these words, she walked away, blending into the vibrant Manhattan crowds.
Les scampered over to us as soon as the lady was gone. "What happened, Jack?"
I hushed him and bent down to talk to Mouse. "So, Mouse, are you ready to be a newsie again?" I asked.
The grin that lit up his face could only mean one thing.
To Sapphy: The Mousey has been found, and he's all yours now...enjoy!
Review, review, review!