John Whopper: The NewsboyClark, Thomas M. (Thomas March)
Science
John Whopper: The Newsboy
Clark, Thomas M. (Thomas March)
Fantasy literature; Newspaper vendors -- Juvenile fiction
After supper was over, I took my bundle in my hand, and strolled
leisurely into a pleasant and spacious room, where a number of
gentlemen--English and American--were sitting around in groups, some
chatting together, and others reading the London and New York and Boston
papers. Among them I recognized the face of a merchant whom I had seen
several times in State Street; and slinging the strap over my shoulder
in a careless, every-day sort of tone, just as any newsboy would have
done at home, I went up to him and said, "Have the morning papers,
Mister?--'morning papers?'--'Advertiser,' 'Journal,' 'Post,' 'Herald,'
last edition,--published this morning, _only five dollars_!" Everybody
in the room looked up, for I managed, as newsboys generally do, to speak
loud enough to drown every other sound; but no one uttered a word. It
was evident that they thought I was crazy, or something worse; and so I
just cried out again, "Have the morning paper, sir?" at the same time
thrusting a copy of "The Advertiser" into his hand. He looked like an
"Advertiser" kind of man,--well dressed and highly respectable.
Involuntarily his eye glanced at the date,--"Tuesday, Feb. 16, 1867";
and then, in an excited, quivering tone, he said, "Let me look at your
other papers." There was a long table in the centre of the room, which I
approached; and, slowly unfolding my bundle, I laid a few of the papers
wide open in front of the gentlemen, who crowded around in the highest
state of excitement. Still there was dead silence; when one of them
suddenly burst out with the exclamation, "Good heavens! Here is a notice
of the arrival of 'The Golconda' at New York, with a full account of the
cargo, and every thing else correct. Why, this must be genuine!"
One after another followed with a cry of surprise at some news which
they had found; until, in a few minutes, every gentleman in the room was
absorbed in reading the papers, appearing to have entirely forgotten all
about me, and not caring to ask how it was that I had brought them to
China in less than twenty-four hours. After I had stood there whistling
carelessly as long as I thought worth while, I spoke up in a loud
voice, and said, "Well, gentlemen, you seem to be enjoying the news
pretty well. I hope you don't mean to forget to pay for the
papers,--_only five dollars a copy_!"
At this speech every one of them looked at me with a strange expression,
as if they hardly knew whether I was a real human boy or something else;
when the Boston gentleman said, "How on earth did you get these papers
here?" To which I answered very carelessly, "I didn't get them here _on_
earth."
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell you what I mean, and answer your questions, after you have
paid me _five dollars each; and cheap at that, considering_."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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