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PENNINGS AND PENCILLINGS, IN AND ABOUT TOWN.

66

BY JOSEPH C. NEAL, AUTHOR OF CHARCOAL SKETCHES.

With Illustrations by Darley.

No. I.

THE NEWS-BOY.

ARMS have had their day. The age of steel is past. The thunders of Mont St. Jean formed the grand finale to the melo-drama of military exploit, and the curtain fell, never to rise again, upon the last scene of martial greatness, when the laurelled warriors of France cast aside the baton of command to have recourse to their spurs. Bellona then went to boarding-school, and learned to comb her refractory locks into the pliant graces of the toilet, while Mars obtained a situation in a counting-house, and, seated upon a three-legged stool, still nibs his pen to gain a livelihood. Romance expired at Waterloo. Chivalry expended itself when Ney was foiled, and the Belgian peasant unconsciously depicted the moral of the fall of the empire, when he boiled potatoes in the helmet of the knight, and cooked his mutton in the breastplate of the "Guard." The world is tired of slaughter-the poetry of the shambles is exhausted. We live as long as we can now, and find existence none the worse for having a full supply of arms and legs. A body like a colander is not essential to reputation, and death has become so unpopular that it is only by special favor that ambition can get itself hanged.

New elements produce new combinations. When the musket rusts in a garret, and glory puzzles over the multiplication-table and retails brown sugar, the restless impulses of humanity seek excitements before unknown. Strategy exhibits itself in the marts of trade. Napoleons are financiers. The sun of Austerlitz bursts through the clouds which overhang the stock exchange. Bulls and bears constitute the contending hosts of modern times, and there is no analogy to the "maraud," unless we find it in embezzlement and defalcation. We are "smart" now

exceeding smart, and pugnacity is thrown to the dogs. Learning, too, leaves its solidity in the cloister, and, no longer frighted by trumpets and sulphurous vapors, spreads itself thinly abroad. Being in haste, the world reads as it runs, so that heavy books, like heavy artillery, remain in the arsenals. Man, commercial man, speculating man, financial man―man, heedless of gory greatness, but eager for cash, must know all that is in agitation. Having ceased to kill his neighbor, he is anxious to ascertain what his neighbor is about, that he may turn him and his doings to profitable account; and hence, in the place of those gaudy banners which used to flout the sky, instead of the oriflamme of nations, which once rallied their battalia, we gather round the newspaper, not with sword, and shield, and casque, but with ink-stained jacket and with pen in ear. more potent than the Fontarabian horn, is the shrill voice of the news-boy, that modern Minerva, who leaped full-blown from the o'erfraught head of journalism; and as the news-boy is in some respects the type of the time-an incarnation of the spirit of the day-a few words devoted to his consideration may not be deemed amiss.

Our clarion now,

As the true Corinthian metal was formed from the meltings of the devoted city, thus the news-boy is the product of the exigencies of the era. The requirements of the age always bring forth that which is wanted. The dragon-teeth of tyranny have often caused the earth to crop with armed men ; and the nineteenth century, thirsting for information and excitement, finds its Ganymede in the news-boy. He is its walking idea, its symbol, its personification. Humanity, in its new shape, is yet young and full of undefined en

ergies, and so is he. The first generation of his race not having outgrown their business, the important part which youth thus trained is destined to play in human affairs, is as yet too imperfectly developed even for the meditations of the most speculative philosopher that ever extracted glowing sunbeams from the refreshing cucumber; but as nature does nothing in vain, it is but fair to infer that the news-boy is destined, in one way or another, to fix the period which gave him birth, in the niche of history. Too many powerful elements combine in him not to be productive of grand results. What is the news-boy-what is necessary to his original constitution-what faculties are involved, cherished, strengthened, and made, as it were, the preponderating forces of his character, by the calling to which he is devoted? Survey the news-boy-extract him from the buzzing crowd and place him on a pedestal, while you analyze his character in its psychological and physical details, estimating, at the same time, the past and future operation of circumstances in educating him for mature effort in the contentions of men. Anatomize him, and " see what breeds about his heart." A rough study, truly -soiled garments and patches. The youth is not precisely fitted for presentation in the drawing-room, evident though it be, that his self-possession would not desert him in the presence of an empress. Valets and body-servants do not trouble themselves about him. Father and mother, brother and sister, if such there be, have enough to do in struggling for their own existence, without attending to the details of his costume, and many a repair is the result of his own handiwork in hours stolen from needful rest. That battered hat, grown foxy by exposure, is picturesque in its proportions, not so much from careless usage as from hard service, and those ox-hide boots, embrowned and cracked, have shamed the feats of plank-walking pedestrians. Sooth to say, our hero is somewhat uncouth in his externals. That fair damsel there would scarcely covet him for a parlor pet. He would not shine amid carpet knights, nor would Titania weary Oberon with prayers to have him for her henchman. The news-boy would not weep either, if he were to know that perfumed pride and silken delicacy

thus curl the nose at him; for he would be lost and wearied in such preferment. Observe his frame, so light yet so strong-so pliant, wiry, and enduring. No "debile wretch" enters the ranks of these juvenile Prætorians, or if he should venture on service so far beyond his capacity, exhaustion soon removes him. Glance at the expression of that weather-beaten face, prematurely channelled into line and hardened into muscle. Care, courage, and resolution are in every curve of those compacted lips. The soft roundness of childhood has departed long since. That mouth knows more of the strong word, the keen retort, the well-weighed phrases of the bargainer, of cunning solicitation, and of the fierce wrangle, than of the endearing kisses of affection. It brings no memory of rosebuds. It is no poetic feature for romance to dwell upon, but a mouth of plain reality-of confirmed utilitarianism. It wreathes itself more readily into the mould of worldly intrepidity, than into the gentle dimples of early life. It is, in the news-boy, as in all mankind beside, a key to the individual mysteries of our nature. The impulses, the ruling trait, are here developed, and the news-boy offers no exception to the rule. The glance of his eye is as cold, but as bright, as the beaming sun of a frosty morning, which sparkles on the ice, but melts it not. Still, though self-interest and sordid calculation dwell in its depths, we find a laughing devil there, which feasts on satire, and sports like the chevaliers of old, à l'outrance. Its jokes bite shrewdly, and the lance of its wit displays the point "unbated," though not "envenomed." When the news-boy turns awhile from business to the pleasures of companionship, he asks no quiet recreation. His raillery and his pleasant tricks both deal in heavy blows and rude interchanges. Your nice, nervous sensibility finds no quarter from one whose very existence in all its phases is roughness. Should he hereafter learn to woo, it will be "as the lion woos his bride."

Such is the physique of the newsboy, and it contains many of the constituent points of greatness. Tossed early into the world, the impediments which cause other men to fail, are soon surmounted in his path. He has no kindly arm to lean upon, and through mistaken tenderness, to make his steps

unsteady. He is his own staff-his own protector. Of diffidence, he never heard the name-he does not know its nature. Imaginary barriers cannot interpose between him and his object; for he recognizes none as worthier than he, and self-distrust plays no fantastic tricks to defeat the consummation of what he may resolve. He lives in deeds, and not in dreamy speculationhe is an actor, not a looker on, and practice has given him that estimate of his own powers which rarely falls below the mark, and which, best of all, surreonds disappointment with no unreal terrors. When he falls, he falls but to rise again with renewed strength, like the fabled Antæus. And while continued collision with the world thus hardens his intellectual being, his muscular energies, which sustain the spirit, receive a training of proportionate severity. He has no tender years. Let wealthy youth be housed in luxury, and guarded from the storm. Soft couches and protracted slumbers do not enervate the news-boy. Compared to him, the sun itself is a sluggard. No morning ray finds him in bed; the moon and stars witness his uprisings, and he travels forth in darkness to commence his daily toil. Let the rain fall in torrents the lightning flash-the thunders roar, the news-boy laughs at the elemental strife. Heat and cold are alike indifferent to one who has such duties to perform. It is on him that society waits for its mental aliment, and can he falter-can he shrink before winds and showers, before frosts and heats, who, more truly than any human being, is the " schoolmaster abroad?" No others may crouch around the fire, or shrink beneath their blankets, at the sound of winter's threatening blasts, but the news-boy springs up, whistling cheerily, to encounter any hardship that may oppose him.

Now, it is contended that whole masses and classes of youth, thus educated, thus trained-who live, as it were, by their wits-by their boldness, their address, their perseverancewhose faculties are always literally at the grindstone-who daily practise endurance, fortitude, self-restraint, abstinence, and many other virtues; who are pre-eminently frugal and industrious; who learn to understand men and boys, dandies and dandizettes, and are schooled to emulation and competition

must of necessity produce something not a little of roguery, mayhap, which is often the fungous growth, the untrimmed shoot of a certain grade of cleverness. But we look for more than this-if genius is ever latent, the life of the news-boy must bring it forth. The blows which fall on him would elicit sparks from the flint. In the school which boasts of such a pupil, society is the book, adversity the teacher, and harsh circumstance plays the part of rattan and ferula. He is scourged into wisdom, almost before others can walk alone.

His facul

In what peculiar way, Tom Tibbs, whose admirable portrait graces our present number, is likely to distinguish himself, remains to be seen. ties are expansive-roaming like summer bees-the moment of concentration, when genius, rallying upon its focus, burns its way through all impediments, has not yet come to him. But Tibbs is one of whom expectation may be entertained. In fact, he has long been spoken of as a "hopeful youth," by many of those who know him, and though the phrase may often be applied derisively, as a sort of lucus a non lucendo, still this is but the vulgar error which cannot comprehend the kittenhood of lionism-the unappreciated infancy of power. No one ever achieved distinction who did not begin by being a nuisance, just as greatness in a single walk, of necessity constitutes a bore; and it may be so with Tibbs. He has already learned the one great lesson of success. He looks upon the community as a collective trout-a universal fish, which must nibble at his bait, lie in his basket and fill his fryingpan. On this maxim, heroes have overrun the world. It has been the foundation, not only of fortunes, but of empires. Why should it not elevate Tibbs Especially as his soul has not been whittled down to a single point, by the process of acquiring the knowledge to which we refer. Tibbs has the affections, the sympathies, the twining tendrils of the heart, in as great perfection as can be expected in one who has been taught to look upon downright fact as the great purpose of existence. The pennies, however, do not engross him utterly; but when he is in pursuit of the pennies, that pursuit is made paramount. He takes his business as Falstaff did his sack, “simple,

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