Teddy and Carrots: Two Merchants of Newpaper Row Part 1

Teddy and Carrots.

by James Otis.

CHAPTER I.

A NEWCOMER.

"Say, boys, come 'round over here by the fountain, an' I'll show you something!" Skip Jellison shouted to a party of his friends who were seated on a curbstone, not far from the Newsboys' Lodging House, gravely discussing a business proposition which had been made by Sid Barker.

"What's the matter?" Reddy Jackson asked, replacing his fragment of a hat.

"Come over here; an' you must be quick about it, or the show will be ended."

Skip was so excited that his acquaintances and friends concluded it must be something of considerable importance to cause him to move in such a lively manner, and they followed him a short distance down the street, until it was possible to have a full view of the fountain.

There the cause of Master Jellison's agitation could be seen.

Seated on the edge of the iron basin, with a newspaper parcel unrolled in front of him, was a boy, apparently about twelve years of age, who, to the newsboy spectators, looked painfully neat and clean. Skip and his friends saw that the boy was a stranger in the city.

The newcomer had taken from their newspaper wrappings a small cake of yellow soap, and a piece of cotton cloth.

Laying these on the iron edge of the fountain basin, he calmly proceeded to wash his face and hands, using a plentiful amount of soap; and then, to the intense astonishment of the spectators, applied the impromptu towel vigorously.

"Well, that feller's too good for down-town!" Skip said, in what he intended for a sarcastic tone. "He b'longs up at the Fif' Avenoo."

"Oh, he's jest got in from the country, an' is goin' to buy Brooklyn Bridge," Sid suggested.

"Look at him! Jest look at him!" Skip cried, in mingled excitement and anger that the boy should be so criminally neat.

The stranger had taken from his valise of paper a comb, which he calmly proceeded to use, the water in the basin serving as a mirror; and then, to the surprise and disdain of the spectators, he gave his clothes a vigorous brus.h.i.+ng with a whisk-broom.

"Well, see here!" and Skip spoke in the tone of one who is uncertain whether it is best to laugh or be angry, "that feller's makin' me tired. S'pos'n' we go over an' give him a shakin' up, jest for fun.

Come on!" and Skip led the way across the street at full speed.

The stranger looked up calmly when they approached, but betrayed neither astonishment nor alarm; and Skip involuntarily halted a few paces away, as he asked, gruffly: "Say, young feller, what're you tryin' to do?"

"Can't you see?"

"I thought I did; but these chaps here made sure there must be some mistake about it."

The boy gazed critically at those who were surrounding him, and then replied:

"Well, 'cordin' to the looks of the whole crowd, I should _think_ you might be s'prised to see a fellow wash his face an' comb his hair."

"Now, don't get too fresh," Sid said, threateningly, as he stepped forward to Skip's side. "We didn't come here to git the 'pinion of any country jay."

"Then why did you want er know?"

"'Cause. Say, you'd better mind your eye, young feller, if you count on stayin' 'round this city very long. There was a chap jest like you come down here last week tryin' to put on airs: an' his folks are huntin' for him now."

"Well, you needn't be worried anybody'll be lookin' for me, 'cause there's n.o.body wants to know where I am. So go ahead, if I've been doin'

anything you perfessors don't like."

Sid apparently decided that it was hardly advisable for him to make too many threatening gestures, because the stranger was not at all disturbed by them, and even seemed disposed to court the possibly dreadful encounter.

He finished brus.h.i.+ng his clothes, and then packed his "valise," by rolling the different articles carefully in the newspaper. Then, instead of going away, as Skip and his friends seemed to think he should have done as soon as they arrived, he stood with his hands on his hips, as if waiting for them to take their departure. For a minute no one spoke, and the silence was really painful.

The newsboys were mentally taking the measure of this stranger who appeared ready to defy them; and the latter finally asked, impatiently: "Well, what're you fellers countin' on doin'? I reckon I'm no great sight for you to stand lookin' at."

"Do you live here?" Skip asked.

"I'm goin' to now. Had it tough enough gettin' here, an' don't feel like leavin' till I've found out what there is in this city."

"Where did you come from?"

"Up Saranac way."

"Rode down in a parlor-car, I s'pose."

"Then you s'pose wrong, 'cause I walked."

"You don't look it." And once more Skip scrutinised the stranger carefully.

"I don't reckon I do. I count on keepin' myself kind er decent. It doesn't cost anything for a feller to wash his face, comb his hair, or have his clothes clean, an' there's many a time when it'll put him through in great shape."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'YOU'D BETTER MIND YOUR EYE, IF YOU COUNT ON STAYIN'

ROUND THIS CITY VERY LONG!' SAID SKIP."]

"Goin' to live on the interest of your money, I s'pose?"

"Well, you s'pose right this time," was the quiet reply. "That's my calkerlation; but it'll be on what I earn, not what I've got."

"Dead broke?"

"Not quite," and the boy took from his pocket a number of pennies, holding them in one hand, while he guarded himself against a possible attack. "There were twenty of 'em when I come 'cross the ferry, an' I b'lieve none of 'em have got away since."

"What are you goin' to do here?" Sid asked, beginning to fancy that possibly this stranger was a boy whom it would be worth his while to cultivate; and, in order to show his friendliness, he seated himself, in a studied att.i.tude of careless ease, on the edge of the basin, while the others immediately followed his example.

"Whatever will bring in money enough for my keep, an' a little over."

"Thinkin' of sellin' papers?" Reddy asked.

"I reckon that'll be 'bout the first job, 'cause I've got to make money enough for my supper, or dig too big a hole in my capital."

"What's your name?"