People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 November 1896 — THE WAIF’S OPINION. [ARTICLE]

THE WAIF’S OPINION.

Thought People Who Worked For Ncthin* Were Fools. One wore the modest blue of the Salvation Army, the other the ragged raiment of the street waif. Both were girls, and both were selling papers. They came together on a Market street comer. The newsgirl eyed The War Cry lassie for a minute or two, and then sidled slowly up to her. ‘‘How’s biz?” she asked. The girl in the blue uniform and poke bonnet looked at the little tot in surprise. ‘‘Not very good,” she answered after a moment. ‘‘Folks ain’t buyin de poipers very swift, eh?” “I’m not selling many War Crys, 11 that is what you mean. ’ ’ ‘‘Does yer have ter stay out till yet sells ’em all?” “No, I don’t have to, but I generally do.” “Take yer a long time ternight, eh?” “Yes. I will be out very late, I expect. I’m awfully tired too.” That seemed to determine something the ragged one evidently had been turning over in her mind. “I only got a couple more poipers left meself,” she said, “an. if yer don’t mind I’ll help yer out. ” The novelty of the proposition or a desire for assistance caused The Wai Cry lassie to accept the proposition, and half of the Salvation papers were turned over to the newsgirl. The latter started in to work vigorously, and pretty soon had the other girl’s papers going like hot cakes. Ragged newsgirls don’tjoften peddle War Crys, and the people she approached appreciated the fact enough to avail themselves of the opportunity. In perhaps half an hour the ragged one returned to The War Cry girl minus papers, but with a little fist full of nickels. “Say,” she said, “it’s dead easy! Wish’t I could sell ’em all de time. Is dere much in it?” “Oh, my, no!” The War Cry girl explained. “I don’t get paid anything at all.” The “newsy’s” eyes opened wide in surprise. Then she voiced her opinion: “Den yer mus’ be as easy as sellin de War Crys was. I’m goin now. Goodbyl”—Philadelphia Inquirer.