The individual interest in the monthly auxiliary meetings developed
into schools of instructions. The boys began to learn how to debate,
how to make a motion, to discuss any subject.
The vice-presidents of each auxiliary took personal interest in the
details of the work, and kept the various committees busy.
The reports at each meeting showed how well the boys had the affairs
of the association under control. In the meetings, the entertainment
features were very interesting, from the fact that the boys themselves
prepared the program. If it was necessary to secure talent, the
executive committee required each boy, beginning with the officers,
and then taking the names as the boys were registered in alphabetical
order to show what he could do. First a boy, a bashful newsie, was
required to “step forward and make a bow,” and after several pretty
rough introductions of this nature, it was always found that the victim
began at once to prepare something for the next meeting. First, he
would commit a very short piece, perhaps two lines, always selecting
something of a comical nature. Then later, of his own composition.
After a few efforts he became master of the platform, and was generally
over anxious to do something.
It was surprising the different talents unearthed by this method.
Musical turns, good, sweet singers, short and long recitations,
original dialogues, and many “new stunts,” as termed by the boys, when
surprised at what someone produced.
The trustees always took advantage of this work, and did everything
to encourage it. The talent thus discovered, and trained, in the
auxiliaries, was used in the Sunday afternoon meetings to great
advantage and honor to the boys.
At one of the Sunday meetings a very serious carrier asked the
president: “How can a boy avoid being bad if he don’t know what bad is?”
“How do you know bad money?” asked the president.
“I don’t know bad money, I know good money.”
A newsboy is never at a loss for a reply to any question, and knows
something about any subject discussed in our daily papers. This boy
further surprised the president by saying: “Those who are thoroughly
skilled in navigation are as well acquainted with the coasts of the
ocean, with the sands, the shallow places, and the rocks as the secure
depths in the safest channels, and good boys must as well know the bad
that they may avoid it as the good that they may embrace it.”
[Illustration: GETTING FAMILIAR WITH THE HEADLINES.]
[Illustration: “DIS HERE IS DE DOG.”
_See Page 83_
]
This boy occupied a front row for many months in all entertainments,
and when a speaker interested him he paid very close attention. One
time a very good minister was talking over the heads of the boys,
preaching a sermon they could not understand. This little fellow, with
his ever serious look, cried out:
“Say, mister, can’t you cut some of that out?”
It had its effect, much to the embarrassment of the good divine.
It is one of the most difficult things in the oratorical world for any
one to entertain newsboys. A speaker must not talk over them. He must
become as a child and talk as a child, and he will be surprised to see
what a good effect it has upon the boys. One time a very nervous boy, a
seller from the avenue, became quite noisy and restless in the seat he
generally occupied. The president observing this asked him if he would
like a seat in the front row.
“Sure thing, I’ll ’tend every Sunday if you give me this seat,”
pointing to a chair next to a post, where the president imagined he
wanted to rest his head.
“It doesn’t make any difference what boy occupies this seat,” said the
president to “Front Row Art,” as he is called, “I want you to get the
seat. I don’t care what we are doing on the platform.”
One Sunday when the house was crowded to the doors, Art’s seat was
occupied by a boy about fourteen years of age, and much stronger than
Art. While the speaker, a minister, was praying, the president saw Art
at the door. He saw him push his way through the crowd and when at the
platform, he took the boy, who occupied his chair, by the back of his
neck and gave him such a shove along the seats that the young man was
glad to reach the other end of the row. Art sat down, folded his arms,
put his feet upon the platform, and eyed the speaker as if he had been
there all the time.
Art was always ready with a smart answer to any question put to the
boys. Even if his attention was directed to another part of the house,
his little fingers were snapping, indicating his readiness to answer.
His replies, while not always pertinent, gave the speaker a fair
warning not to be too familiar in asking questions.
Art had a companion who was known as “Splinter,” on account of his
being rather slim, but no boy of his age, twelve years, ever had so
many new movements as Splinter. He was never quiet, not so noisy, but
continually annoying the boy who sat next to him. To take a companion’s
hat and throw it across the room, while some good minister was praying,
was of frequent occurrence. He would answer questions without raising
his hand, and would give the boy sitting next to him a knock of some
kind before he stood up. With all this restlessness he was one of the
best-hearted boys among the sellers. There was something in him that
the president concluded he could not afford to lose sight of—just what
that was did not develop enough to encourage.
At one of the Sunday meetings there was a speaker who knew how to
hold the boys when asking questions. He had them perfectly quiet and
recognized no answer unless the boy raised his hand.
He asked a question which required as an answer a verse in the Bible.
To the president’s embarrassment, “Splinter’s” hand was high above
the others and he kept a continual snapping of his fingers. He was
determined to be recognized. The president was in hopes the speaker
would pay no attention to him, fearing the reply would spoil the effect
of the speaker’s talk. However “Splinter” managed to be heard.
“That tall boy may answer,” said the minister.
The sweat rolled down the president’s forehead as he tried to get back
into his chair.
“Splinter” arose, not a smile on his face. He looked serious, and
without a quiver in his voice repeated, word for word, one of the
longest verses in the Bible, and which gave an appropriate answer.
The speaker looked as surprised as the president, and the compliment he
gave the boy was appreciated by all.
“Splinter’s” education, after that, was looked after.