THE STREET BOYS.
You can scarcely walk a single block without your attention being drawn
to one or more of the class called "street boys." We have already
devoted a separate chapter to the musicians, and we must now endeavor
to give the reader an idea of the rest of this class.
THE NEWSBOYS.
Every morning, by times, and every afternoon between one o'clock and
dark, if you chance to be in the neighborhood of Printing House Square,
you will see throngs of boys rushing frantically out of the cellars of
the printing houses of the daily journals. They have barely passed the
portals, when they set up their morning cry, in a shrill, sharp tone,
"'Ere's your ''Erald,' 'Mornin' Times,' 'Buy a Tribune?'" etc. In the
afternoon, they scream into your ears the names of the "News," "Mail,"
"Express," "Telegram," "Post," and other evening journals, flavoring
their announcements with shouts such as these: "'Nuther murder!"
"Tremendous sensation!" "Orful shootin' scrape!" "'Orrible haccident!"
and so on. They climb up on the steps of the stage, thrust their grim
little faces in the windows, and almost bring nervous passengers to
their feet by their yells; or, scrambling into a street car, they will
offer you their papers in such an earnest, appealing way, that, nine
times out of ten, you will buy them out of sheer pity for the boys.
The boys who sell the morning papers are very few in number. The
newspaper stands seem to have the whole monopoly of this branch of the
trade, and the efforts of the newsboys are confined to the afternoon
journals--especially the cheap ones--some of which, however, are dear
bargains at a penny. They swarm around the City Hall, and in the
eastern section of the city, below Canal street; and in the former
locality, half a dozen will sometimes surround a luckless pedestrian,
thrusting their wares in his face, and literally forcing him to buy one
to get rid of them. The moment he shows the least disposition to yield,
they commence fighting amongst themselves for the "honor" of serving
him. They are ragged and dirty. Some have no coats, no shoes, and no
hat. Some are simply stupid, others are bright, intelligent little
fellows, who would make good and useful men if they could have a
chance.
The majority of these boys live at home, but many of them are wanderers
in the streets, selling papers at times, and begging at others. Some
pay their earnings, which rarely amount to more than thirty cents per
day, to their mothers--others spend them in tobacco, strong drink, and
in visiting the low-class theatres and concert halls.
Formerly, these little fellows suffered very much from exposure and
hunger. In the cold nights of winter, they slept on the stairways of
the newspaper offices, in old boxes or barrels, under door steps, and
sometimes sought a "warm bed" on the street gratings of the printing
offices, where the warm steam from the vaults below could pass over
them. The attention of the "Children's Aid Association" was called to
their hardships in 1854, and an effort was made to relieve them by
establishing a newsboys' lodging house.
NEWSBOYS' LODGING HOUSE.
This is now situated in Park Place, near Broadway, and is richly worth
visiting. It is always full at night. The boys pay five cents for
supper, and five cents for bed. The whole of the arrangements are under
the superintendence of Mr. and Mrs. O'Conner, who have been most
efficient in their management of the house. It requires a great deal of
tact to keep these boys under proper discipline, without, at the same
time, letting them feel that the restrictions are too severe. Supper is
served for them between six and seven o'clock, and is of plain,
substantial materials. The boys then adjourn to the lecture-room, where
they are supplied with books, and where, in the course of the evening,
they unite in singing various hymns. Occasionally, gentlemen come in
and give lectures. Some of the boys are eager to learn to write, and
are supplied with writing materials. The sitting generally terminates
about nine o'clock, with the recitation of the Lord's Prayer and the
singing of the Doxology. The singing is marked with force, rather than
great accuracy; it sometimes partakes very much of the character of a
bawl. But the lads are amused, and perhaps a little instructed, so
something is gained. After these exercises, the tired ones go to bed,
the lively blades to the gymnasium, the philosophic apply themselves to
draughts or dominoes. The gymnasium is a most amusing place. There is
one little boy, named 'Chris,' a newsboy, aged eleven, who lost his leg
by being rode over by a coal cart, about four years ago, whose agility
is perfectly wonderful. He throws aside the crutch with disdain, hops
across the room with incredible swiftness, seizes the rings of the
swing, and flies through the air like a bird. Some of the newsboys have
considerable savings, and are very well-conducted lads. Last month, one
of them picked up a roll of bills amounting to two hundred dollars. He
brought it immediately to Mr. O'Conner, and asked his advice. It was
decided that the finding should be advertised; but as the owner was not
forthcoming, the boy placed his savings in a bank; and has added
considerably to the original amount.
THE BOOTBLACKS.
The bootblacks form a peculiar feature of New York life. They are boys
from ten to sixteen years of age. A few are older, and there are some
men following this avocation on the street. The boys, however, are
always meant when this class is referred to. Some of them are newsboys
early in the morning, and bootblacks for the rest of the day.
They provide themselves with a box, with a sliding lid and a rest for
the feet of their customers, a box of blacking, and a pair of good
brushes. All the articles are kept in the box, when not in use, and the
owner carries this receptacle by means of a leather strap fastened to
it. This he slings across his shoulder, and trudges on with his box on
his back. The headquarters of this class are in or near the Five Points
district. They form a regular confraternity, and have their own laws or
customs. They are generally sharp, shrewd lads, with any number of bad
habits, and little or no principle. They are averse to giving much
information with respect to themselves or their society, admission into
which requires a payment of two dollars. To what purpose the money thus
obtained is devoted, it is hard to say, but the object of the
association seems to be mutual protection. The "Order" establishes a
fixed price for labor, and takes care to protect its members against
the competition of irregular intruders. The established price, for
blacking a pair of boots or shoes, is ten cents. When it is known to a
member that an outsider is blacking for a less sum, the fact is
reported to the society, which appoints a delegation to look after the
presumptuous individual. He is promptly warned that he must work for
the regular price, or "quit work." If he declines to do either, his
head, in the elegant language of the society, is "punched," and he is
driven from the street. The affairs of the society are managed by a
"Captain of the bootblacks," whose word is supreme, and who wields his
power as all arbitrary rulers do.
The price of a new outfit, or "kit," such as we have described, is from
two to three dollars. Second-hand outfits can be bought of the junk-
dealers for much less. When asked how much they earn, the boys give
evasive answers, and it has been said that their society does not
permit them to tell the truth upon this subject. One dollar is supposed
to be the average daily earning of an industrious boy. The writer was
once much amused by a little fellow telling him, with an air of great
importance, that he was going that night to attend the trial of Bill
Simpson, a recreant bootblack, who was to be "brought afore the s'ciety
for blacking boots for five cents." The trial must have been edifying.
Where and when the society meets, and what is the nature of its
transactions, are secrets known only to the initiated.
A large part of the earnings of the bootblacks is spent for tobacco and
drink. They are patrons of the Bowery theatres and concert halls, and
their criticisms of the performances are frequently worth hearing. The
"Children's Aid Society" makes them objects of its especial care, its
great end and aim being "to induce the boys to emigrate to the West."
The course of life which they pursue leads to miserable results. When a
bootblack gets to be seventeen, he finds that his career is at an end--
it does not produce money enough--and he has acquired lazy, listless
habits, which totally unfit him for any kind of work. He becomes a
loafer, a vagrant, and perhaps worse. To save boys from this fate, the
society labors most earnestly to induce them to go to the West; and it
is stated that the desire of the boys to secure western homes increases
year by year. Up to the present time about seven hundred have been sent
out, and many of them are now filling respectable positions in society.