"LES!" came an ear-rattling shout. Les sat up in his bed.
"Kloppman! How many times I gotta tell ya?! Don't wake me up foist, ya nevah woke Jack up foist!"
"Das because even if I had woke Jack up foist he woulda still been dah last one outa bed." Kloppman said in his defense.
"Oh yeah?!" Les said a bit startled by this newfound information on his hero. "Well then, I'll be dah last one outa bed as well!" And he lay back down.
Gradually, after the shouting of various names, the newsie began to emerge from beneath they're striped bed sheets. After getting dressed Racetrack yawned and straightened his overalls. Frantically he began looking for his missing cigar. After discovering its whereabouts, Race leaned over Snipeshooter. "Dat's my cigah!"
"You'll steal anuddah." Snipeshooter sang in reply. Race ripped the cigar out of his small hand and smacked him playfully in the face. Snipes sat up in defense, but a smile grew across his face and he patted Race on the shoulder.
"Boy, are you bummahs evah gonna stop doin' dat?" Kid Blink asked as he jumped down from his bunk. For years Race and Snipes had started the morning the same way. At first tensions were high and the two newsies found much dislike in each other, but over the years they had become good friends, despite the occasional cigar-related quarrels, and began their day with a cigar fight just for fun.
Now all the newsies were up and getting dressed, Snipeshooter was bathing, Mush was wiping his armpits, Snitch was blowing his nose, Race was washing his face, and Crutchy, as usual, was concerned about people thinking he was faking it. "Boy, I'm thinkin' a lotta people dees days are thinkin' I'm one ah dose fake crips." Crutchy whined to whoever would listen.
"Maybe das because dey all sawed you dancin' and runnin' about wit out yer crutch durin' dah strike years ago, an' dey knows you's fakin' it." Itey claimed, but Crutchy was not listening.
When all were ready, the newsies shuffled down the stairs and out the door, Kloppman trying to count them all on their way. The newsies ran about the streets for a few minutes, jousting with sticks, jumping off of Mr. Fuente's barrels, and eventually reunited, exhausted, in front of the nuns' cart. The nuns, and Denton, began they're regular hymn and the newsies approached, Les looking particularly cynical. When the nuns had finished their ditty, Patrick's mother surfaced out of nowhere and began to sing, and Denton joined her.
Soon after his breakdown, Denton found friendship and comfort in Patrick's mother. The woman, also suffering from mental distress since her son, Patrick, had run away, spent her days in a vicious routine. In the morning she met up with Denton at the nuns' wagon and sang her same, pitiful song of mourning and was often joined by Denton in her singing. The rest of her day consisted of stalking groups of newsies until they broke out in song and then she would join the singing with a reprise of her longing song. Receiving the nickname of "Patrick's Mom", she went by nothing else, she had entirely forgotten her true name, and did not care to remember it until she found her lost son. The newsies had adapted to her presence and had grown used to the fact that whenever they sang Patrick's Mom would be there to interrupt it with a new version of the same song.
"Kloppman! How many times I gotta tell ya?! Don't wake me up foist, ya nevah woke Jack up foist!"
"Das because even if I had woke Jack up foist he woulda still been dah last one outa bed." Kloppman said in his defense.
"Oh yeah?!" Les said a bit startled by this newfound information on his hero. "Well then, I'll be dah last one outa bed as well!" And he lay back down.
Gradually, after the shouting of various names, the newsie began to emerge from beneath they're striped bed sheets. After getting dressed Racetrack yawned and straightened his overalls. Frantically he began looking for his missing cigar. After discovering its whereabouts, Race leaned over Snipeshooter. "Dat's my cigah!"
"You'll steal anuddah." Snipeshooter sang in reply. Race ripped the cigar out of his small hand and smacked him playfully in the face. Snipes sat up in defense, but a smile grew across his face and he patted Race on the shoulder.
"Boy, are you bummahs evah gonna stop doin' dat?" Kid Blink asked as he jumped down from his bunk. For years Race and Snipes had started the morning the same way. At first tensions were high and the two newsies found much dislike in each other, but over the years they had become good friends, despite the occasional cigar-related quarrels, and began their day with a cigar fight just for fun.
Now all the newsies were up and getting dressed, Snipeshooter was bathing, Mush was wiping his armpits, Snitch was blowing his nose, Race was washing his face, and Crutchy, as usual, was concerned about people thinking he was faking it. "Boy, I'm thinkin' a lotta people dees days are thinkin' I'm one ah dose fake crips." Crutchy whined to whoever would listen.
"Maybe das because dey all sawed you dancin' and runnin' about wit out yer crutch durin' dah strike years ago, an' dey knows you's fakin' it." Itey claimed, but Crutchy was not listening.
When all were ready, the newsies shuffled down the stairs and out the door, Kloppman trying to count them all on their way. The newsies ran about the streets for a few minutes, jousting with sticks, jumping off of Mr. Fuente's barrels, and eventually reunited, exhausted, in front of the nuns' cart. The nuns, and Denton, began they're regular hymn and the newsies approached, Les looking particularly cynical. When the nuns had finished their ditty, Patrick's mother surfaced out of nowhere and began to sing, and Denton joined her.
Soon after his breakdown, Denton found friendship and comfort in Patrick's mother. The woman, also suffering from mental distress since her son, Patrick, had run away, spent her days in a vicious routine. In the morning she met up with Denton at the nuns' wagon and sang her same, pitiful song of mourning and was often joined by Denton in her singing. The rest of her day consisted of stalking groups of newsies until they broke out in song and then she would join the singing with a reprise of her longing song. Receiving the nickname of "Patrick's Mom", she went by nothing else, she had entirely forgotten her true name, and did not care to remember it until she found her lost son. The newsies had adapted to her presence and had grown used to the fact that whenever they sang Patrick's Mom would be there to interrupt it with a new version of the same song.