Small Table

[dutchy]

Dutchy looked amazed, maybe even excited that he caught this girl on her second day! He could help her out, if she needed it. And generally it was more enjoyable selling with someone else.

"Since I was eight," He gave a shrug, not liking the circumstances that went with his becoming a newsie, however compared to most much more favorable. Not wanting to stay on the subject of his abandonment (his parents were doing what they thought they had to, that's all...) Dutchy nodded to her papers, "Pretty good for your second day with just two left. How many did you start out with?"

[fiddler]

"Pretty good for your second day with just two left. How many did you start out with?"

Fiddler thought back to this morning and replied, "Fifteen. I'm sure that eventually, I can work my way up to thirty or somewhere 'round there."

She definitely needed the money. Luckily, she had two sources of income, newspapers and her violin. To be honest, her fiddle was more lucrative. Together, she made quite a profit.

[dutchy]

Dutchy nodded, encouragingly, "I'm at about 25 now, what with my hand a bit sore still. Usually I can sell 40. Even more with a partner."

He tapped the fingers of his good hand on the table from habit and spoke carefully, not wanting to seem too forward or get the girl offended by his offer.

"You know, well, if you want, maybe I could--" Dutchy stopped, leaning back as the waiter set his root beer and roast beef sandwich down in front of him. Dutchy thanked him before starting again. "What I was trying to say was, if you wanted, I could sell with you tomorrow. We might could help each other out?"

[fiddler]

"What I was trying to say was, if you wanted, I could sell with you tomorrow. We might could help each other out?"

Fiddler's eyes widened in pleased surprise. Dutchy, who had only known her for a good fifteen minutes, wanted to sell with her. A smile spread across her face as she considered it. He was definitely a more experienced newsie, and could show her the ropes - she would learn a lot more from him than just learning herself from observing from afar and guessing.

"Sure, why not?" she replied, meeting his eye. "I'd like that." She glanced at her remaining papers and thought that tomorrow, she wouldn't have anything left over.

"How should we split the profits?" Fiddler asked. She wrapped her hand around her room-temperature glass and searched his face.

[dutchy]

Dutchy sipped his root beer, hoping to look as if he made this consideration quite often. Truthfully he hadn't helped out too many new newsies. They always wanted someone like Jack, or Racetrack, or Kid Blink, or David.

"Well," Dutchy set his drink down, and pushed his sandwich across the plate. Still steaming. His mouth was watering. But he had business to settle! "Seein' as how I'm training you... 70/30 would be the average. Maybe 60/40 if you were tough enough to stand up to your new partner."

He paused, for effect, before gesturing to his bad hand with his good one, "But... Seein' as how I pretty much need your help as much as you need mine... I think 50/50 would be fair."

[Richie Fitzpatrick]

New

Call it slumming, if you will. Rich definitely had more than enough money to eat at some of Manhattan's more classier joints, but whenever he felt in the mood for a good hogie he'd always book it to Tibby's regardless of where he was at the moment. Maybe the bread wasn't the softest and the vegetables weren't always super fresh, but it was one of the few things from his childhood that didn't change. It seemed like just yesterday that him and his buddies would gather in the restaurant and brag about who got in the most trouble doing this and that and who had earned the most that day. Now, a figure like him stood out among all the newsboys and other child workers, but as long as it was still standing Tibby's would be his place of choice.