Pretzel Cart

[solitaire]

[NEW]

Solitaire leaned her paintings against her empty suitcase, displaying them near the pretzel cart. She'd seen newsies selling their papers nearby, so she decided that trying to sell the undamaged paintings that filled her suitcase would help her along. She was running a little low on money, and the only trade she knew - drawing - didn't come without money to support it.

She stood anxiously by her easel, displaying the best painting she had - one of her backyard in Ohio. It was for sale for fifty cents. Her other paintings came cheaper; some as low as two cents. She needed the money. She would do anything to sell these drawings.

[pupdawkinseitz]

Pup had been running, all the way from Manhattan to the Bronx, he had been frightened when he had seen his Father come right near the fancy resteraunt where he had been selling. His Father had been with some other business men getting some lunch. Pup had hightailed it out of there. He had seen his Father probably two to three times since he ran away but this time had been the closest. He was terrified his Father had seen him.

He had been in Bronx before, and he liked it. It was a nice place and most of the people he encountered there were somewhat friendly. Pup sat down on the curb, and checked in his jacket to see how his little kitty was holding out. She was so small she fit in his pocket. Pup took her with him everywhere, since he figured she would be bored at the Lodging house. He calmed down and began to settle in to the beautiful day. He noticed a girl standing by the pretzel stand just feet away, holding some kind of exhibit of art.

He had been to the museum before and he had throughly enjoyed it. He came over slowly and smiled shyly at the girl.

"Are you building a m-mina-miniature museum here?" the seven year old boy asked, stumbling over the big word a bit. He grinned toothily at her staring at the paintings.