The next morning, Katie set up shop in the newsboys' lodging house in
Manhattan. At first she thought that she could bring the boys' clothing
home with her to mend, but she soon realized that she'd have to answer too
many questions from Kevin. Luckily, Blink suggested that she use the boys'
bunkroom to mend clothes while they were all out selling papers. She found
the building without too much trouble, perhaps owing to the infamy of the
newsboys' antics in the area.
That first day was not exactly easy. She got to the lodging house around seven o'clock in the morning, but of course, the newsboys were already out on the streets selling papers. Kloppman, the old man who ran the lodging house, looked her over critically and gestured gruffly to a box of clothing in one corner of the ground floor. Seeing that there was no place to sit to do her work, she turned to Kloppman to ask him if he could provide a chair, but he had already busied himself in a back room somewhere. Sighing, she hefted the box and proceeded up the stairs, thinking that there must be some place to sit in the bunkroom.
She emerged, panting, into the deserted room at the top of the stairs, and set the box down gratefully before her as she entered the room. Unfortunately, after a quick glance through the room, she realized that there were no chairs, only the newsies' bunks stacked tightly from wall to wall in orderly rows. The rows were the last orderly thing about the room, however. Spare clothes were strewn carelessly about the room, and none of the beds were made properly. Katie smiled ruefully as she thought of what a mess her apartment could be living with only one brother; she couldn't imagine keeping house for fifty of them.
Choosing one of the cleaner looking bunks, she sat down gingerly and began mending the pile of clothes in the box. Blink and Racetrack must have done some heavy advertising with their friends, since the box was nearly full, mostly with clothes that looked like they belonged to the younger boys who were not necessarily so adept at mending their own garments. To begin, she pulled out an especially worn pair of socks and began darning. She found that she became accustomed to the monotony of the task fairly quickly. Her mind was free to wander to other questions such as her developing story for the Sun. She had gotten quite a bit of basic information out of Medda, but she wanted to ask the newsies themselves how they felt about their rapport with the newspaper hierarchy since the strike. Did they see Pulitzer's recent charitable actions as a sign of true repentance for his wrongdoing or simply as acting in his own best interest to avoid another fiasco like the strike?
The day passed surprisingly quickly. For lunch, she helped herself to the apple she had purchased from Pam, the fruit seller, near Blink's selling spot. She felt a strange affinity with the woman, and wanted to help her make her living as well as she could. By the early evening, she had finished with the majority of the clothing in the box, and the first of the newsies began to return to the lodging house, looking tired after their long day of work. The younger newsies returned first; the work of a newsboy took some time to get accustomed to, and the younger boys often lacked the stamina to sell the quantity of papers moved by the older boys.
In groups of two they approached her, bickering heatedly about who would pay the penny owed for their garments. Dutifully, she handed them their mended clothes, but many of them, like Rat, were unwilling to engage in conversation. She had to wait a bit longer for the older newsies to come and collect their clothes since they obviously had more papers to sell, and chose to stay out later for whatever reasons. She protested weakly when Blink produced a penny to pay for the shirt and trousers she had mended for him, but he insisted on paying like anyone else, regardless of the fact that he had gotten her the job in the first place.
As she was fishing his shirt out of the pile, she took the opportunity to ask him some of the questions that had been floating through her mind all day. "So Blink, mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Does this mean I get my picture in the papah? I've been told the camera loves me," he said in all seriousness.
"I'll see what I can do," Katie answered, grinning.
"Well then, fire away!"
"Well, I've found in my research that in addition to lowering the price of papers to what it was before the strike, Pulitzer has developed other plans for reform. For example, giving you and the other boys a free cabaret show on holidays. How do you feel about these measures?"
"Hell, anything for a free show," he chuckled.
"No, I'm serious Blink, what do you think?"
"Aw, I dunno." He sighed and swiped his hand over the back of his neck in thought. "It's all well and good an' all, but he would never do it if it weren't in his best interest, would he?"
"Ah, come on," another voice chimed in, "give the guy a break. Maybe he's trying to mend his evil ways." Katie saw that the voice belonged to a gawky youth leaning on a crutch and looking disapprovingly at Kid Blink. "The name's Crutchy," he said, grinning widely and extending his hand toward Katie.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm - "
"I know," he smiled. "Actually, those're my socks right there," he said, pointing into the box that was rapidly emptying as newsies retrieved their mended things.
"Did I hear somebody says somethin' about gettin' their picture in the papes? Better take mine, I'm better lookin'," joked another approaching boy with olive skin and untidy hair. He ducked a friendly punch from Blink as he introduced himself as Mush.
Racetrack approached to add his two cents to the conversation. "Who cares what old man Pulitzah's tryin' to make up for as long as I get another shot with Medda." He whistled loudly.
"Whaddaya talkin' about? You're still too short to be havin' thoughts like that," Mush mocked, laughing.
Racetrack put on a deeply offended grimace. "Hey, I may be short, but what I lack in height I make up for in stamina." He grinned suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows. Katie giggled despite her better judgement.
"Yeah, well ya got a hell of a lot to make up for," countered Mush.
"Get ovah heah ya lousy scabber!" Race took a wild swing at Mush, who dodged it easily.
"Hey, now that ya mention it," Crutchy broke in, tactfully quelling the developing tussle, "I've heard around that Medda's got a new girl workin' with her."
"Mmmm, fresh meat!" said Mush, smacking his lips comically.
"Yeah I'd like to get an eyeful of whatever sweet little thing Medda's picked out," sighed Blink, his eyes taking on a faraway look.
Not wanting to know what images were floating through Blink's mind and desperate to get away before the blush spreading on her cheeks became too noticeable, Katie hastily put aside the box and prepared to get up. "Well boys, I think I'm done here. I'll just -"
Before she could finish her sentence, someone plopped down on the bunk next to her and put his hand on her leg in an all too familiar fashion. "So you finally came to your senses," said Jack Kelly, his brown hair hooding his deep-set eyes, which showed no hint of their fatigue after the long day's selling.
"Excuse me?" She returned his suggestive look with a glare.
"You're sitting on my bunk." He grinned crookedly, seeing the moment's surprise that flickered in her eyes before she regained her composure.
"Well, not for long. I was just on my way out." She stood up and smoothed her skirt before her. Jack Kelly just shrugged nonchalantly. "It was nice meeting you all," she said politely to the assembled boys. "I'll stop by later in the week to see if you need more mending done."
They chorused their goodbyes as she hurried down the stairs to the door. She cursed mightily as she walked headlong into the person on the other side of the door preparing to enter. She knew her day couldn't get much worse as she looked up to see Skittery, looking down at her with what was first unguarded surprise but turned quickly to scorn. She skirted him hastily and she was somewhat shocked that he let her go without even a word. As she walked around the lodging house, she heard the boys calling greetings to Skittery through the bunkroom's open window.
"Heya Skitts!" That friendly greeting must have been Crutchy's. "Slow night tonight?"
"Yeah, it take you all day to sell those twenty papes you bought this morning?" said a mocking voice she didn't recognize.
"Or maybe you was out sniffin around that cute waitress over at Malone's again," jeered Mush.
"Yeah, did she accidentally dump another pot of hot coffee on your lap?" Katie could make out the loud laughter that followed Race's comment as she continued on her way to Irving Hall.
Author's note: Sorry it took me so long to update. I blame that on finals and having to pry my roommate's cold dead hands off my keyboard so I could even get at my computer. Anyway, enjoy!
That first day was not exactly easy. She got to the lodging house around seven o'clock in the morning, but of course, the newsboys were already out on the streets selling papers. Kloppman, the old man who ran the lodging house, looked her over critically and gestured gruffly to a box of clothing in one corner of the ground floor. Seeing that there was no place to sit to do her work, she turned to Kloppman to ask him if he could provide a chair, but he had already busied himself in a back room somewhere. Sighing, she hefted the box and proceeded up the stairs, thinking that there must be some place to sit in the bunkroom.
She emerged, panting, into the deserted room at the top of the stairs, and set the box down gratefully before her as she entered the room. Unfortunately, after a quick glance through the room, she realized that there were no chairs, only the newsies' bunks stacked tightly from wall to wall in orderly rows. The rows were the last orderly thing about the room, however. Spare clothes were strewn carelessly about the room, and none of the beds were made properly. Katie smiled ruefully as she thought of what a mess her apartment could be living with only one brother; she couldn't imagine keeping house for fifty of them.
Choosing one of the cleaner looking bunks, she sat down gingerly and began mending the pile of clothes in the box. Blink and Racetrack must have done some heavy advertising with their friends, since the box was nearly full, mostly with clothes that looked like they belonged to the younger boys who were not necessarily so adept at mending their own garments. To begin, she pulled out an especially worn pair of socks and began darning. She found that she became accustomed to the monotony of the task fairly quickly. Her mind was free to wander to other questions such as her developing story for the Sun. She had gotten quite a bit of basic information out of Medda, but she wanted to ask the newsies themselves how they felt about their rapport with the newspaper hierarchy since the strike. Did they see Pulitzer's recent charitable actions as a sign of true repentance for his wrongdoing or simply as acting in his own best interest to avoid another fiasco like the strike?
The day passed surprisingly quickly. For lunch, she helped herself to the apple she had purchased from Pam, the fruit seller, near Blink's selling spot. She felt a strange affinity with the woman, and wanted to help her make her living as well as she could. By the early evening, she had finished with the majority of the clothing in the box, and the first of the newsies began to return to the lodging house, looking tired after their long day of work. The younger newsies returned first; the work of a newsboy took some time to get accustomed to, and the younger boys often lacked the stamina to sell the quantity of papers moved by the older boys.
In groups of two they approached her, bickering heatedly about who would pay the penny owed for their garments. Dutifully, she handed them their mended clothes, but many of them, like Rat, were unwilling to engage in conversation. She had to wait a bit longer for the older newsies to come and collect their clothes since they obviously had more papers to sell, and chose to stay out later for whatever reasons. She protested weakly when Blink produced a penny to pay for the shirt and trousers she had mended for him, but he insisted on paying like anyone else, regardless of the fact that he had gotten her the job in the first place.
As she was fishing his shirt out of the pile, she took the opportunity to ask him some of the questions that had been floating through her mind all day. "So Blink, mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Does this mean I get my picture in the papah? I've been told the camera loves me," he said in all seriousness.
"I'll see what I can do," Katie answered, grinning.
"Well then, fire away!"
"Well, I've found in my research that in addition to lowering the price of papers to what it was before the strike, Pulitzer has developed other plans for reform. For example, giving you and the other boys a free cabaret show on holidays. How do you feel about these measures?"
"Hell, anything for a free show," he chuckled.
"No, I'm serious Blink, what do you think?"
"Aw, I dunno." He sighed and swiped his hand over the back of his neck in thought. "It's all well and good an' all, but he would never do it if it weren't in his best interest, would he?"
"Ah, come on," another voice chimed in, "give the guy a break. Maybe he's trying to mend his evil ways." Katie saw that the voice belonged to a gawky youth leaning on a crutch and looking disapprovingly at Kid Blink. "The name's Crutchy," he said, grinning widely and extending his hand toward Katie.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm - "
"I know," he smiled. "Actually, those're my socks right there," he said, pointing into the box that was rapidly emptying as newsies retrieved their mended things.
"Did I hear somebody says somethin' about gettin' their picture in the papes? Better take mine, I'm better lookin'," joked another approaching boy with olive skin and untidy hair. He ducked a friendly punch from Blink as he introduced himself as Mush.
Racetrack approached to add his two cents to the conversation. "Who cares what old man Pulitzah's tryin' to make up for as long as I get another shot with Medda." He whistled loudly.
"Whaddaya talkin' about? You're still too short to be havin' thoughts like that," Mush mocked, laughing.
Racetrack put on a deeply offended grimace. "Hey, I may be short, but what I lack in height I make up for in stamina." He grinned suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows. Katie giggled despite her better judgement.
"Yeah, well ya got a hell of a lot to make up for," countered Mush.
"Get ovah heah ya lousy scabber!" Race took a wild swing at Mush, who dodged it easily.
"Hey, now that ya mention it," Crutchy broke in, tactfully quelling the developing tussle, "I've heard around that Medda's got a new girl workin' with her."
"Mmmm, fresh meat!" said Mush, smacking his lips comically.
"Yeah I'd like to get an eyeful of whatever sweet little thing Medda's picked out," sighed Blink, his eyes taking on a faraway look.
Not wanting to know what images were floating through Blink's mind and desperate to get away before the blush spreading on her cheeks became too noticeable, Katie hastily put aside the box and prepared to get up. "Well boys, I think I'm done here. I'll just -"
Before she could finish her sentence, someone plopped down on the bunk next to her and put his hand on her leg in an all too familiar fashion. "So you finally came to your senses," said Jack Kelly, his brown hair hooding his deep-set eyes, which showed no hint of their fatigue after the long day's selling.
"Excuse me?" She returned his suggestive look with a glare.
"You're sitting on my bunk." He grinned crookedly, seeing the moment's surprise that flickered in her eyes before she regained her composure.
"Well, not for long. I was just on my way out." She stood up and smoothed her skirt before her. Jack Kelly just shrugged nonchalantly. "It was nice meeting you all," she said politely to the assembled boys. "I'll stop by later in the week to see if you need more mending done."
They chorused their goodbyes as she hurried down the stairs to the door. She cursed mightily as she walked headlong into the person on the other side of the door preparing to enter. She knew her day couldn't get much worse as she looked up to see Skittery, looking down at her with what was first unguarded surprise but turned quickly to scorn. She skirted him hastily and she was somewhat shocked that he let her go without even a word. As she walked around the lodging house, she heard the boys calling greetings to Skittery through the bunkroom's open window.
"Heya Skitts!" That friendly greeting must have been Crutchy's. "Slow night tonight?"
"Yeah, it take you all day to sell those twenty papes you bought this morning?" said a mocking voice she didn't recognize.
"Or maybe you was out sniffin around that cute waitress over at Malone's again," jeered Mush.
"Yeah, did she accidentally dump another pot of hot coffee on your lap?" Katie could make out the loud laughter that followed Race's comment as she continued on her way to Irving Hall.
Author's note: Sorry it took me so long to update. I blame that on finals and having to pry my roommate's cold dead hands off my keyboard so I could even get at my computer. Anyway, enjoy!