The Dollop with Dave Anthony and Gareth Reynolds - 275 - The Newsie Strike

Episode Date: June 19, 2017

Comedians Dave Anthony and Gareth Reynolds examine the New York City newsie strike. SOURCESTOUR DATES REDBUBBLE MERCH

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story friend. Dave Anthony. To Gareth Reynolds who has no idea what the intro or topic is about. What the hell's going on? So people are just supposed to figure out what this podcast is. If this is the first time you're listening I want to apologize for Gareth. Why? We'll be right back. What the hell are you talking about? Not Gary Gareth. Dave okay. Someone or something is tickling people. Is it for fun? And this is not gonna become the tickly clock. Okay. You are queen fakie of made-up town. All hail Queen Shit of Liesville. A bunch of religious virgins go to mingle and do a frame. Hi Gary. No. Is he done my friend? No. No. Shout it out dog.

1872. All right. Salvation Army member James McCabe Jr. quote. There are 10,000 children living on the streets of New York. The newsboys constitute an important division of this army of homeless children. You see them everywhere. They rip the air and deafen you with their shrill cries. Oh my god. They surround you on the sidewalk and almost force you to buy their papers. They are ragged and dirty. They have no coats, no shoes, and no hat. Oh god. Enough with hats. Animals. They're hatless beasts. No shoes and hats are offensive. How can we allow hatless children to run about? There's just 10,000 screaming children running all

over town. I propose a law that we be able to shoot homeless children. Yes. They don't have hats. Get rid of them. Why don't they run around with their genitals out? What's the difference? Yeah. Okay. We're gonna tell the audience you're leaving. Oh boy. Another New York City reformer quote. There used to be a mass of them at the Atlas office sleeping in the lobbies until the printers drove them away by pouring water on them. Oh my god. What are they, gremlins? No, that would make more. Oh god, more. That's not a good idea. Okay. You know how that works, right? Yeah. Don't put water on them. Okay. I mean,

although I'm not kidding. No, but if you see what happens, it's pretty funny. Yeah, but just little balls start shooting off the original. Yeah, but do you want that with little homeless kids? Now I'm just thinking about gremlins and I do want it because I'm thinking of the second gremlins and there were quite a lot of quirky little gremlins. People really like the second one. Well, you get a bunch of new gremlins. I mean, nothing against Mogwai or whatever his name was, but you know. Mogwai? What was it? He's laughing at us. Gizmo. Gizmo. Mogwai. Mogwai is the form that they are when they're hairy. I mean, this just got super dandy. This is a

gremlin podcast. There's no way he doesn't play D&D. I mean, that got really... Aaron has a gremlin. He's going to that shop where that weird dude was like, there is one thing I have. Um, so by pouring water, one winter an old burnt out safe lay on Wall Street, which was used as a bedroom by two boys who managed to crawl into the hole that had been burned. Two boys in a safe house. First of all, that's a... why is there a burnt out safe? Number one. Also, two kids living in it. Secondly, the little kids crawl through the hole. Boy, this place really opens up once you're inside. Yeah, but so back

then they just would go, well, there's a safe. Who's going to do anything about that? Nothing. Both dibs. We got to leave it. Now it's a house. Oh, wow. I'm going to put a fence out front. We're going to have company over tonight. We're making goulash. The typical newsy street seller brought a bundle of 100 papers for cash. Right? So they would go, the newspaper guy would come, take that. Right. 100 papers, then they go sell them. Okay. They made their living off the difference between the price they paid and the price they sold the papers for. And they're allowed to set said price? No. Okay. In large cities, publishers would sometimes put out several editions a day. Okay. Wow. Yeah, right? Yeah.

Well, I mean, but if you think about it, think about how we are on Twitter with news or on whatever. I mean, you are constantly refreshing something two hours ago is old at this point. That's right. Yeah. So they're cranking them out. This resulted in frequent struggles over whether news boys could return unsold copies for credit. Right. Right. So my guess is no. No, of course not. It's a fucking company. Why would they? Well, no, they wouldn't make as much money. Well, that's fair. That's fair. And then fair is right. Publishers insisted the newsies were independent operators or quote little merchants, little merchants. Is it a Saturday afternoon show? Fucking Uber. Yeah. I mean, it's the same thing. Oh, my God. But the papers fixed the price. So

they're independent operators. They're independent operators, but they can't set their own price. Right. Right. So they're not independent. So they're not. So which is the same thing with Uber. And they can't set the price. So they're not actually independent. They're partners. Well, no, you're independent when it comes to how you're getting paid. How are they getting paid? Terribly. So they don't set the price of the papers. There are signed territories in street corners. So the newspaper is telling them where they can sell them. Well, I mean, yeah. And then how much you can deal with law as well. They would also try to require news boys to take more papers than they could sell. Okay. Some lived in lodging houses. Some lived in safes.

The Chatham Square lodging house took in between two and 300 newsies a night. Wow. I mean, how's that not in the paper? That's the story. The newsies are the story. Extra, extra. Read all about me. I'm living in shit. If the kid was working, he'd hand over 15 to 25 cents for two meal tickets in a bed. Okay. I assume dinner and breakfast. Sure. The minimum amount for a week's board was a dollar five. That's the minimum they paid. Okay. And some would drop a coin into a savings bank as they entered. So they had like little slots that they could save their money up. Okay. And they would have their little name on it or whatever. Okay. Wow. Or pop print. I don't know how it worked. It was a large black box, iron box with

numbered slots assigned to the boys. If they wanted to take money out of the savings, they'd accumulated they just had to ask. Okay. From a New York Tribune article quote, in every way, the boys are made to understand that the lodging house is not an institution for charity. They pay for work or they pay or work for all they get. If a lad comes in penniless, he is put to work cleaning windows or scrubbing floors. But this pride soon drives him to get employment since the lads earning money call him a bum. Well, he looks at the eight year olds and he's like, I got to get my act together. I know this is I mean, I'm wasting my life away. What am I doing? What about my pension fucking sitting around? I mean, I'm living in a safe. I want to

get married someday. Good Lord. So then he would, you know, get a job because he'd feel pressured. I mean, the best way to get an eight year old to get a job is to peer pressure competitive competitive. So people would donate clothes to the lodging houses. But the boys would start to pay a small amount for a new pair of pants or coat. Okay. So they would get donated clothes. And they'd be like, you got to pay for that. Right. Because we're horrible. Yeah. Just so you know, I want to make a little bit of money. What are we going to do? Give them away? We were giving them. Is this called the free house? Come on. No, it's not called the free house. It's a lodging house. So it's different. So I get free pants. They're going to a black box and get some quarters.

They like to gamble. Of course. They buy a lot of tickets, shoot craps, play pool, poker. Oh my God, they would carry the necessary paraphernalia for a craps game in their pockets. It would took only a few minutes to get a game going on the sidewalk. That is so weird. It's great. Eight year olds, eight year olds, playing poker and poker pool and gambling on the street right in the craps game. Sure. They also had to be fighters, often having to guard a piece of sidewalk where they sold papers. Right. A park road newsy quote. Okay. So this this is what their accents were. This is I'm going to read verbatim how and there's only one way to do it. You've got to scrap for it. If a kid tries your butt into your route, if a kid tries to butt into your rut, you've got

to knock him out or you'll knock your out or the women's. We don't bother. There's a bunch of women's by the bridge that's been there since it was built and they can stay too. We've got nothing again them. Yeah, well, you're eight. Like what are you? Yeah, we's a lever women's alone, you noses. Yeah, they ain't got no beef with us neither. We punch in the ladies. We punch in ladies. We's eight. We live inside burn safes. When asked what he would do if someone attempted to sell papers on his territory. Oh boy, I butted in there and then punch him with all the fist knuckles I got in my big package. Yes. News boy and boxer Dave Simmons said quote. If the man can lick me, he can have to place and that's the case all over. The news boy has got to look out for himself. And if he's

no good, he better quit soon. The news boy will fucking cut you. I mean, these are bad ass news terrible terrifying people. These are terrifying little people. New York Herald quote only a few years ago nine tenths of the news boys were of Irish parentage. But other elements have come into the business according to the figures given by Newsy Dave Simmons. They talked to Dave a lot. Yeah. Two fifths are now kind of like that most the spokesman. Yeah, I keep like a I keep like a data on the new an ethnic data on the metrics. I'm like 538.com. So what it's called. No idea. I think it is. So this is what Dave Simmons says. Two fifths are now Jews. One fifth Irish, one fifth Italian, one fifth blacks, goils, cripples, old women, fakers, beggars and setch.

I mean, the last cat. It's like that's not a census count. It got weird at the end. It turned into a bummer. Well, there's one here again. Yeah. Blacks, goils, cripples, old women, fakers, beggars and such. Goils. Girls. Girls. Girls. Goils. The newsies look down on the young newsies who would sit on curbs. He's five. You don't get it and pretend to be asleep. Wait, they would sit. They would pretend to be asleep to spy on them. No. So someone laid down to sleep with crumpled newspapers in their hand and then cry. Like it was like a ploy to get people to buy the paper. They'd be like, you ain't working. Yeah. Get up and scream. Quote from newsboy cheeky wilts. Nope. No, no need for me to jump in there.

Damn kids is a disgrace. They do a cry. I lost my panty act with a sad story and some of them work so slick that five papers will last them all night. Wow. This is. Have you ever seen Lord of the Flies? I think I'm seeing it. The Disney version wasn't like, did you ever see the Disney version of newsies? I didn't see it. But it sounds not like this at all. No, not at all. Because they're singing on October 1st, 1895. The New York Sun reported James Lynch of Brooklyn, who says he has 36,000 to give away to charity gathered all the newsboys around printing house square and treated them to supper at Dolan's Lynch paid a bill of 2040 and fed 211 boys. They were between the ages of seven and 16. The boys cheered for Lynch and called him

Uncle Jim. Okay. The leader of the Children Army. Yeah. Kind of weird. They're gonna go to war. Yeah, it's kind of weird though. After the meal, he gave each of them a dime. Okay. He also took a handful of coins and threw them on the sidewalk. Quote, it does my heart good to see the little fellows scramble for the money. It's fun to watch them trample one another. Really warms my heart. Oh my God. If you've ever seen poor boys fight over 25 cents, it is tremendous. You haven't lived till you've seen a six year old roundhouse at 10 year old for a dime. He then took to the pharmacy to treat them to soda water. At the pharmacy, one of them tried to pick his pocket and Lynch shouted quote, see this chap had his hand in my pocket trying to steal I have fed him and this

is the way he intends to thank me is not fake company for you who are honest. One of the news he shouted punch him and the other news he's descended in on him. Oh God. A dozen boys hit him, knocked him down and kicked him. He got up and tried to run but the boys caught him again. Jesus. Finally, Mr. Lynch got involved and released the pickpocket who ran away. This was a weekly trip for Mr. Lynch. He would weekly go and treat them to dinner. Yeah. Wow. And buy them a soda and give them 10 cents. Right. And there's no way he wasn't a child molester. Yeah. Right. I mean he could be lonely and want to feel like. Really? Well, but there is. I mean, I don't know. You know what I want? It's just me. I'm a rich guy. I want to be surrounded by little street boys. Well,

I don't think he'd stop a pickpocket. What does that mean? I don't know. Maybe it's like a ploy. What? I mean, he would, you know, there is a chance that if he was a child molester, he wouldn't mind. I'm going to stop. But there is also something like I knew a kid. I knew a kid in a high school who was always weird. And when I didn't see him for a couple years, I ran into him and he was like the leader of a gang of like 10 year olds and he was like 16. And so I was like, not, you know, like he would just hang out with like 10 year olds. And I think part of the reason was because he was just, he just didn't, he felt very important to a group of people who would just straight up respect the fact that he had age on them and, you know, was like could, could have

had access to other stuff. You know, so it made him feel popular, I guess. I'm just saying we don't need to assume. That he's a child molester? Well, look, he probably was. I mean, good lord. This is the dollar. But still, there is, you know, I just don't believe anybody does that with 211 boys. Look, okay, I love Oliver. He's basically swimming in a sea of street boys. Well, all right, we're one person. You're surrounded by 211 boys, 211 boys. Uh-huh. Just think about that. Sounds kind of cool. Okay. I mean, especially if you're throwing dimes. By the 1890s. Fight! Joseph Pulitzer. Mm. The publisher. That doesn't ring a bell. Of the New York Evening World and William Randolph Hearst, owner of the New York Journal,

were engaged in a newspaper war. They engaged in yellow journalism and a sensational type of reporting. Yellow journalism had five characteristics. Shocking headlines and huge print, often of minor news. Lavish use of pictures or imaginary drawings. So far, this is our book. Use of faked interviews, misleading headlines, pseudoscience, and a parade of false learning from so-called experts. Emphasis on full color Sunday supplements, usually with comic strips. Dramatic sympathy with the underdog against the system. It doesn't. It's not familiar. Reporters and readers were not all that concerned with distinguishing among fact-based reporting,

opinion, and literature. Fake news. Fake news. Hearst and Pulitzer started paying more and more attention to the Cuban struggle for independence. Cuba was a Spanish colony and their revolutionary movement intensified during the 1890s. The papers accentuated the harshness of Spanish rule and nobility of the revolutionaries and they sometimes printed rousing stories that were totally false. Well, cheers. Cheers to progress. The coverage sold a lot of papers for both publishers. An artist for Hearst's paper recounted an anecdote about when he telegrammed Hearst to tell him all was quiet in Cuba and, quote, there will be no war. He claimed Hearst responded with, quote,

please remain. You furnish the pictures and I'll furnish the war. So he was ready for war. I'll furnish the war. I'll furnish the war. I'll furnish the war. At least that. You'll need love seats. That's not happening. When he says furnish, he doesn't mean it. No. Okay. We need drapes. No. Okay. How about an Ottoman? No. End tables, anyone? On February 15th, 1898, an explosion sunk the U.S. battleship,

the main in the Havana Harbor, killing 268 men. Both papers pointed the finger at the Spanish. An investigation blamed a mine but did not know who was responsible. But by then, people were fired up. This is just, it gets very difficult to constantly hear the same shit we're doing. No, you think? Yeah. In early May, the Spanish-American war had begun. And of course, paper sales shot up. Right. Several publishers raised the cost of a newsboy bundle of 100 papers from 50 cents to 60 cents. Oh, that's garbage, mister. Right? Yeah. So now that's, that's 10%. That's money for us. Boy, I'm going to end up living in that safe again.

The San Francisco Call, 1898, quote, that William Hearst deserves to be placed in irons and sent under armed escort to the nearest prison is a plain matter of fact. Unless he can establish the plea of insanity, he merits the reward of the traitor. He is the yellowest of yellow journalists. Hearst writes but fails to think. Since the opening of the war, much misinformation has been sent out of Cuba and many correspondents have wired ridiculous tales. But to the present, nothing so senseless has been forwarded to this country as Hearst's editorials. Maybe the Cuban heat has poached the brain of the editor-in-chief of the journal. He has no friends loyal enough to kick over his ink pot and counsel him not to be an ass. Good men are being killed every day.

Similarly, Mr. Joseph Pulitzer publishes the nastiest paper he knows how in order to admonish. Well, to progress. So it is just a matter of stoking the fear and anger of. Yeah, it turns out it's really easy. Yeah, it turns out. At least it's gone. The Spanish American War lasted 10 weeks. Pulitzer's secretary recorded that the newspaper war cost his newspaper an estimated 8 million during its battle against the journal. Okay, so it was a bad move. Well, I guess so. After the war was over, the evening world and evening journal would not reduce their price from 60 cents to 50 cents per hundred. But stuff was less interesting. Yeah, they're not selling as many papers, but they're not reducing their the price that went up because of. Time for

something to happen. The price had gone up 60 cents when the war started. Now that was over, the papers were not in great demand and the newsboys wanted it back down to 50 cents. They could only make 25 cents a day at current prices. Other newspapers had lowered their price. Okay. On July 21st, 1899, the newsboys went on strike. Okay. The cutest strike ever. Right. Adorable protest. I'm on strike. Don't read all about it. Yeah. Like that. What do we want? Lots of stuff. When do we want it? Christmas. Oh, that's shitty. Well, they're not buying them. They buy their own stuff. They don't have parents, so they're not. Yeah, but they want money. I don't think newsies believe in Santa Claus. I don't think they believe in much of anything. That's true.

Death in Texas. They're the only two doors short things. Yeah. The next morning, 300 newsies gathered in Park Row near the main distribution centers of the two papers. The boys created an arbitration group, but it was denied any real discussion. So strange. Okay. So these guys are gonna arbitrate for us. Here's a team of lawyers. They're 11. Would you like to talk to? No. Okay. All right. All right. So the boys decided that, quote, the time is over right for action. Oh boy. Jack Sullivan was their leader. He said, quote, they take what cravens, but we'll show them that we ain't. The cops won't have no time for us. What is the sense of the meeting? Is it strike? Sure. Half a dozen voices piped up. Well, then the strike is ordered. There must be no half

measures, my men. If you seize anyone, selling the world or the join all swat them. Swat them. You mean swipe the papers? Sure, tear them up, throw them into river. Any old thing. If there's no further business, the meetings adjoined. The group heard Sullivan's words and quickly moved throughout the city, searching for any news boy who decided to defy the strike and sell papers. Oh God. What? I'm worried that a boy is selling papers somewhere. Of course he is. Oh God. New York Sun, the news boy strikers so thoroughly controlled the situation that it was all but impossible to buy an extra on any of the downtown streets. In Park Row, the man who asked for one was likely to be hooded at as a scab if not made the target for rock throwing. Oh God. Jesus. Hey, can I get a paper?

What the fuck? It was a tie up so tight as to make the streetcar strikes ridiculous in comparison. Okay. So they're bringing it. Yeah. I mean eight year old, ten year olds, eight, ten year olds are on strike as a fucking nightmare. It's also a really weird thing to see. No, super weird. Children seem to be on strike generally. Yeah. I mean bad ones. I hear what you're saying, but the ones that are not controlled. I get it. Sure. The ones that are... No, I don't think we're... The ones that should be rounded up. No, now we're definitely saying different things. Are we sure? Absolutely. The ones that are out playing in a park are deserved to be rounded up. They're not things, absolutely different things. I think. Different things. So you think they should be allowed to

be free and not... Yes. Running around. Yes. Children. Yes. Yes. How do we get the coal out of the mines? We stop. We stop what? Getting the coal out of the mines. Well, yeah, if we can't round up the children. No, I don't want it. This is circular. This is circular. No. We're not sending children down to mines to dig up coal. How do we get the coal out of the mines? We send miners down there. No. Thank you. No. Oh. Thank you. No. We came to an agreement. No. I enjoy our discussions. I don't. On commerce. Not fun. The first encounter came when the delivery wagons came to the office to get the early additions. No sooner did the wagons drive up than the air was filled with rocks and the drivers and helpers sent a hurry call to the Oak Street Station for

relief. Two very much used up policemen responded. What does that mean? I don't know. Used up. And we're advised by the boys to go to bed. Was this the first time someone said, I'm getting a little too old for this shit? That's good. You should say that more often. So they responded and they were advised by the boys to go to bed and sleep it off. Go to bed. Hey, Kappa, why don't you go hit the sheets? That's gotta be real weird when an eight-year-old is telling you your bedtime. Yeah, it's terrifying. Time to go to bed. Don't eat any sugar otherwise you'll be up all night too. Why don't you go home and watch children of the corn? They were kept busy trying to protect the wagons until word came that the world and

journal had reduced their prices. All right. That caused the boys to rush to the distribution points. But then the boys asked the delivermen if the new price was there to stay and the delivermen could not answer the question. A quote. Shout one up. Don't touch the scar papers. They're trying to work us. These are sharp children. Yeah, they really are. They're fucking really are. The six or so boys who had taken the papers. I'm not falling for that three times in one lifetime. You're five. You are five years old. I ain't no robe. The six or so boys who had taken the papers were attacked by the others. Why would you just, what is the problem? It's just so children of the flies. Who's got the conch?

Quote. Pound it and kick them. Burn the papers with fatty's glasses. Quote. Pound it and kick them and trample the papers underfoot. No boy dare touch the forbidden papers. Lord. It's good. It's not. It's good. Can they read boys? These boys. I would assume so because they kind of have to read the headlines, right? It just seems maybe they don't. I mean, they're not all that young. Some are a little bit older. Okay. Around 1 30 p.m. 100 newsboys formed a mob and armed with sticks, marched down. Can you imagine seeing this? No, it's crazy. 100 children with sticks pissed. Yeah, terrifying. Terrifying. I mean, I would just be like, oh, we're moving. I mean, I can't stay here. I want to move to Boston. The kids are the tough guys.

They shouted and banged their sticks on the ground. Whenever they caught a newsboy who was not with them, they punched him until his nose bled and then he would join up with the mob. Okay. Yeah, I'm in. Ow. Now that I'm bleeding out of my face, I think I'm going to join you. Yeah. They swept into the financial district to clear it of scabs. Each one they found, they would attack and tear up their papers. What do you think if you see a mob of kids beat up another new sea and then he joins them? They're getting stronger. They're just growing in numbers. Good Lord. The Wall Street brokers really enjoyed the strike. Crowds gathered to watch the mob move up and down, wall, bond, and new streets. The brokers tossed coins down from

their office windows to the boys who scrambled and fought over the money. I mean, that while terrible, that is a fun game. An American tradition. Yes, yes, yes. So what I've learned is that Wall Street people have always been horrible. Uh-huh. Yeah. Because there's nothing better than watching children fight over money. I mean, the power that you feel when you throw a quarter into the street and you just watch a mob of boys. I mean, that is... Boys attack each other again. Yeah. You're just like, well, I don't need... I'm not eating lunch today. I'm going to play my favorite game, Boy Coin. This is the most American... Come play Boy Coin. This is the most American the game I've ever done. Boy Coin. A gang of tenderloin newsboys

tipped over a journal newspaper wagon at Broadway and 33rd Street at five o'clock. Good Lord. Tipped over a wagon. I mean, this is scary. It's just getting real. Yeah. Milo Green, a 15-year-old newsboy. So I'm a roller. Sure. Tried to sell the banned papers in the doorway of the uptown office of the world last evening. So he's in the doorway of the newspaper building. Selling the papers. But the strikers gathered across the street and threatened him until a woman came along and tried to buy a paper from him. Oh, God. At that point, the strikers ran across the street, snatched the paper from the woman's hands, and tore it to pieces. Oh, my God. Then one jumped on Milo Green, but Hugh Coleman, a lawyer, was nearby. He grabbed a meal, who was the kid,

and quote... Put a torturous name for a starving child. It's a bad name at that time, too. What's your name? A meal? What do you want? A meal. So bad. So Hugh Coleman took a meal and quote, took him over his knee and spanked him soundly. Shut up. Children spanking children? No, this is an adult lawyer. Oh, that's the adult lawyer. Okay, right. But still. Yeah, it's still quite a move. No, but also it is a child, so you're like... Is it? What? Is it a child? It's a child? Or is it a man in baby flesh? I mean, it's a... It's a child. It's a weathered child. It's a child. It's still a child. It's beyond spanking age. Yes. Yes. But you, as an adult, you're like, well, you spank these things, and then they learn a lesson. Not these things. The newsies then

attacked Coleman. You don't pet a pit bull the same way you pet like a chihuahua. You have different styles. They're both dogs. Yeah. The different styles. Yeah. The newsies then attacked Coleman and beat him until a policeman came and rescued him. Good God. And then a meal... How was work? Oh, my God. A pop of boys beat me senseless when I tried to spank one. A pack of young ones. Oh, my Lord. A meal was then arrested. A meal was then arrested. The next day... In the most adorable incarceration in history. May heaven be in... The next day, papers reported every news boy in the city was now on strike. The final group to join were the news boys of Grand Central Station. It's mini-warriors. Oh, yeah. I mean, they're just gang... I mean, that is... Totally. Good Lord.

There were between 50 and 75 news boys who worked around the station and each had his own turf. Okay. Jersey City, Newark. I just love that the Grand Central Station is broken up into little turfs. No, it's gerrymandered. It's fucking crazy. Yeah. Jersey City, Newark, Hoboken, Manhattan, from End to End, and Brooklyn from the bridge entrance to Long Island City were overrun with the strikers and plastered with mottos urging the public not to buy the evening world or evening journal newspapers. Okay. So it's fucking shit's going wild. Right. There's a campaign. Messenger boys then joined in on the strike. The 45 boys who worked at the postal telegraph walked out. The next evening, the newsies held a mass meeting at New Irving Hall. It was called a

quote, remarkable gathering. This is so strange to picture. 5,000 boys. Oh, my God. 5,000 boys. What does that even look like? Oh, it's not good. Serious boys. Like, come on, guys, we're serious. It's terrifying. Oh, my God. Is that same kid still leading? Oh, there's gonna be a bunch of different kids now. Okay. They had wanted to have a parade with a band before the meeting. Of course. But News Boy racetrack Higgins. So I started out at 40. Yeah. Like what boys racetrack racetrack. I play the ponies. That's my Christian given name. My daddy named me racetrack. I'm nine. Racetrack said the chief of police, Deverey refused to give the boys a permit. 2000 boys came from

Brooklyn carrying a huge floral horseshoe, which was a gift from the Brooklyn Eagle newspaper. Okay. Five policemen and a guardsman were there to keep order, but that clearly wasn't enough, so they sent for help. I can't imagine. Like, if there was a meeting of 5,000 children being led by children today, it wouldn't happen. No. There's no way. No fucking way in hell. But instead, the cops are showing up like, we don't want anything crazy to happen. Come on, boys. Come on, nothing weird tonight. Just have your meeting, kindergarteners. So 15 cops responded, but it was impossible to handle the boys. Quote, they were a shrieking mob. When the proprietor of the hall refused to open up at eight because the meeting wasn't to begin until 830, they charged the door

and smashed it open. Okay, eight. We'll do eight. Eight's fine. Eight's fine. You guys can come in. Eight's fine. Guys, open it. It works. I guess eight. And leave whenever. The New York Sun. Quote, quote, among the well-known members of the striking newsies there to state their grievances were Little Mike, the Newsboy Order, and Crazy Arborne. The strike is now on the hands of an executive committee commosed of Jim Gaety, Young Monix, Barney Peanuts, Cohen, Crutch Morris, Scabooch. I can't handle it already. You're gonna need to start again. Okay. Little Mike, crazy. Just great right away. Crazy Arborne. Insane. Jim Gaety, Young Monix, Barney Peanuts. Barney Peanuts. Cohen, Crutch Morris,

Scabooch Wolf. What the hell? Blind Diamond. Blind Diamond? What is he, a ski slope? Buy your papers. He's just tagging from me. I can't see shit. Blind Diamond. And what was the one before? Scabooch Wolf. Scabooch Wolf. I don't know. I don't know. Okay. Little Mike yelled no more violence to which some of the boys replied, oh, certainly not. Sounds like a little sarcasm. The first speaker of the evening was introduced as quote, a lawyer, a lawyer feller who's got a message for us. They just don't have a grasp of society, but they're still trying to control us. He said he came as a representative of Assemblyman Charlie Alder. I'm sorry,

I think there's been some sort of mix up. I have a speaking engagement tonight. I didn't realize I was speaking to boys. Yeah, we was the one who hired you. Get up there and tell us all your lawyer stuff. Oh, okay. Yeah, you got stuff to tell us to tell us. All right. What are we talking about? Throw rocks. No. Throw rocks. So the lawyer was there to say that Mr. Adler was with the boys heart and soul and that he had sent them as best witches and then they all applauded. So the alderman's like, I'm with you. Kids. Awesome. An ex assemblyman spoke next and told them to hold out for the 10 cents. Okay. The horseshoe of flowers was brought in. A big deal. It's a big thing. And the newsboys

were told that the newsboy who gave the best speech would get it. Oh boy. And they all roared and applause. Okay. I can't wait to get that horseshoe of flowers and bring it back to my stench bond. I have nothing and that's something. I put that in my safe. I live in it. Yeah. Then a dozen of the boys started fighting. Oh, gosh. So they saw the horseshoe of flowers. They wanted it. I wanted them. They're still children. The bigger kids bang the heads together of some of the smaller kids and put a stop to it. So there's Stooges. Dave Simmons, the president of the newsboys union, read a set of resolutions. The last paragraph of the resolutions was addressed to the public and it read. The last one asked the public not to buy the evening world or New York

Journal and asked if the publications would not arbitrate with the newsboys. Some people were told to buy the evening sun telegraph and daily news who were giving the boys a chance to make a living. Resolutions were adopted. All in favor. Swidely. Opposed. Opposite of Swidely. Whatever the opposite of Swidely is. Simmons then asked the newsies to stop using violence and ease up on the scabs. He was subsequently beaten within an inch of his life. Quote, Bob the Indian then rose to make a few remarks. What? Of course. What? Well, I just, I mean, it's a real who's who. Welcome to the nickname convention. I'm here for union and nothing else. So, Bob the Indian is a child? Yeah. Is he? Yes. He's a child. Is he at all? We don't know that.

Okay. He probably not. Right. I'm here for union and nothing else. I want this strike, kept a going until we get what's choking us down. Say what do you think her says today? He says we can't afford to sell two for a cent. Now did you ever say he says he might cave if the world would give him, but he can't sink first. Honest ain't that sickening? Now I'm to tell you that I think we'll win by staying on the level. Well, someone is about to be one flower horseshoe richer. Next kid blink spoke. His early albums are good. I do like kid blinks. Kid blinks? I got it because I kind of blink because my eyes dry out if not. No, he was blinded when I. Oh, I did it on account of the fact that one of my eyes don't work. So I blink weird.

He buttoned his shirt, brushed back his hair and walked up and was. I don't want to look weird. He was greeted by storm of applause. Quote, you know me, boys. They responded. Yeah, bet we do. Well, I'm here to say if we are going to win the strike, we must stick like glue and never give in. Am I right? The crowd went into a frenzy screaming yes. Ain't that ten cents worth as much to us as it is to haste and pull it to who a millionaire's. Well, I guess it is. If they can't spare it, how can we? Okay, the kids are winning me over. The kids are smarter than most people today. Yeah. I mean, honestly, if we had this sort of sensibility today, the kids are like, I understand the power of labor. Yeah, right. And people today like a solid strike like

a job at Walmart. Well, no, because then they'll fire us. Yeah, exactly. Yeah. If we don't walk out, then they'll fire us. Yeah, but they won't be able to run the store. Yeah, but if we don't walk out, then we won't have a job. No, they won't be. I like how even our grown-ups have high voices. I'm trying to figure out how ten cents on a hundred papers can mean more to a millionaire than it does to a newsboy and I can't see it. No, boys, I'm going to say like the rest, no more violence. Let up on the drivers, normal rackets like that one the other night where a journal and a World Wagon was turned over in Madison Street. To tell you the truth, I was there myself. Look, I'll be honest. I'm not throwing stones in the glass house. I am at some of the speakers.

I might have said flip that over and then flipped it over, but now I'm saying let's not do that. All right. News with me. Racetrack Higgins of Brooklyn stood up next. Quote, we took up a collection last night and got enough money to hire a band to lead us over here. I went up to Chief DeVay today to get a permit and what do you think he said? He says, get out you slobs. Get out you slobs. I told him we wasn't slobs, but honest boys trying to make an honest living, but he wouldn't give up the permit, so we had to leave and the band had to go home. That band must have been like weirdest gig ever. What the hell was this? Got hired by a bunch of eight-year-olds and now it's canceled. Who was our booker?

I told you, no more Boy Strikes. Unbelievable. That should be a festival. No more Boy Strikes? Boy Strikes. I can only say to you boys to stand firm and we'll win. I ain't made 20 cents this week, but I can stand a heap of that and so can all the Brooklyn boys and they all cheered. Next, Hungry Joe Kernan. Oh, has anyone seen a meal? The News Boy mascot. Sang a song about a one-legged news boy. Stop, Dave. Dave. My head's gonna pop. Okay. Name again? Hungry Joe Kernan. Hungry Joe Kernan. And he is the News Boy's mascot. Uh-huh. And he did a song about a one-legged news boy. Yeah. Okay.

One of the newspapers called it a pathetic song. Well, they probably didn't see the paper. I think it was to make everyone sad and make them like, you know, feel for the one-legged news boy. Yeah. And then they go out and fight for the one-legged news boy. And he's real? I don't know. He could just be like a mythical news boy. He's mythical. I find him to be mythical. After a couple more speeches, the news, uh, the boys left the hall, quote, yelling like demons and spent the rest of the evening celebrating the successful strike and their great meeting. The next day, the two boycotted newspapers paid men boycott two dollars to sell papers. Another pillant

paying men to sell papers. Okay. Only to have 75% of the men quit before they had sold the single one. Wow. The boy. Okay, go ahead. So that's just men taking two dollars and then going and drinking. Right. Okay. That's basically what that is. Boy, this plan didn't work. The boys did not have trouble persuading the Bowie residents to join them in their strike. Oh boy. A few men were loyal to their employers and sold some papers, but the newsies were convinced the papers, uh, would grow tired of the strike and give in. Right. The news boy arbitration committee went to the journal office in the afternoon, but the editor refused to see them and they were chased out. The news boy arbitrators. They just got a bunch of kids together and

they're like, well, the arbitration committee. No, you're not. You're a group of kids. No, we're arbitrators. Uh, so amazing. They decided to keep up the fight and that they would make no more advances to the journal people, two world drivers, newspaper drivers, and one, uh, journal driver quit work because they didn't want to fight with boys anymore. The power of those little fists. Jesus Christ. I just want to stop punching kids. I mean, I'm really my hand hurt. I'm so look how bloody my nickels. I mean, they're pretty. This is all boy blood on my fists. I got to fight my way to a truck every day, just punching kids. William Reese, a black man, was distributing pamphlets for the striking news boys at 3rd Avenue and 42nd Street. He was handing

them to people passing by. An employee of the evening world newspaper was sent out to find a cop to have Reese arrested. Quote, don't you see what he's doing? They're advertising about the paper telling people not to buy it. The policeman then took Reese to the Yorkville police court. The newspaper wanted him charged with conspiracy. Well, how? For handing out flyers and don't buy the paper. Is that conspiracy? Not even remotely. Yeah. Nothing close to a conspiracy. Right. I believe it's called free speech. I believe it should be. Which is an ironic thing for a newspaper. Is it? He was finally charged with violating a corporate ordinance. Reese said he did not think he was breaking any law. Because he wasn't. And the magistrate warned him not to do it again

and discharged him. And discharged him? Yeah. Okay. Well, but they did whatever. Five men were selling the forbidden papers at 125th Street and 3rd Avenue at around noon when 300 striking news boys attacked. Got the papers. Run, run, run, run, run, run, run. They took the papers and tore them up, filling the streets with fragments. They then chased the men onto trolley cars and the platform, platforms with the elevated roads. At 125th Street and 8th Avenue, they chased away six men and destroyed their stock. They found eight men at 116th Street and 8th Avenue and tore up their papers and chased them off the corner. Mickey Fischler, a 12-year-old boy, was part of a crowd of newsies beating some non-union boys who were selling papers at 5th Avenue and 23rd Street.

A policeman caught Mickey and took him to the magistrate where he was fined $1. Mickey paid it and left crying. What else you got? Oh, crying. That is so... Well, they're boys. I know. It's so... So, like, it truly... It's hard to not focus on the fact that this is funny and that they're totally adults, but they... They're boys. They're kids. Like, at the end of the day, when they're not a mom, it's a little kid. Yeah, and then there's an authoritative figure threatening you. I mean, you get sad. Yeah, I know. I just want to know. I just want to know. I just want to know. I just want to know. That is so amazing. Crying. Pull little scamps. At one o'clock, there was a demonstration in front of the world and journal offices by a couple hundred newsies. Some carried banners.

They whistled, yelled, and hooted until two detectives were sent to scatter them. Two of the ring-leaders were arrested. Later that day, police caught two more boys who were leading a loud gang on Park Row and carrying banners. These leaders were arrested. Three more boys were arrested for fighting that evening. That night, a crowd of boys were throwing rocks at a journal delivery wagon when a stone smashed a glass plate window at a jeweler's store. From the New York Sun, quote, one of the crowd of parading news boys jumped on a 3rd Avenue car at Fifth Street and snatched a paper from the hand of an old man. The old man grabbed the boy. The boy explained what was happening, and then the old man apologized and contributed a dime to the strike fund. They are very compelling

little boys. That's a save. A mob of several hundred striking news boys found two piles of worlds and journals at a newsstand on 2nd Avenue and 42nd Street. They charged the stand, tipped it over, grabbed the papers, and tore them into little strips. Wasn't there a point where they said they were going to be less violent? Well, I mean, not... Hurting people? Yeah, it's just property destruction. I don't think property destruction... I don't consider property destruction to be violence. Okay. I consider it to be a reasonable attack on predatory capitalism. Okay. Well, listen, don't paint me on the other side of that asshole. I'm with you. Then they ran through the streets yelling in triumph and threatened to do the same

to anyone selling or buying worlds or journals. A policeman tried to disperse the boys, so they attacked him, throwing sticks, stones, and old cans. He stood as long as he could. Use words! Use words! He retreated to a nearby store. Among the things thrown on him was a bar of iron six inches long. Man. That's long. In the evening, 500 news boys marched up 3rd Avenue in Harlem and destroyed every copy of the world and journal they could find. The boys then marched... Was the main story not psycho news boys hate papers? No, they were... Was that when I was in the papers? They had a blackout against you? Yeah, they're just not printing that it's happening. Right, okay.

The boys marched west to 8th Avenue and continued plundering. They found 10 men who were selling the papers and the police had to get involved before the men could escape. A few days into the strike, Joseph Pulitzer sent a telegram to his secretary. Quote, Situation serious, but improving. The journal will not cut price. Dealers beginning to take the world again. 344 special men put out today to sell. Damage to circulation is 80,000. Much writing, police have taken up matter actively. I think that's what he won the Pulitzer Prize for. Yeah, no, it's very well written. On July 26, newsies in Trenton, Yonkers, New Haven, Connecticut, Troy,

Mount Vernon, and other cities formally joined the strike. On July 28, a week after the strike began, the news dealer Union decided to support the newsboys. Members were told not to handle the boycott of papers and to tell readers not to buy them. Quote, The publishers of these papers could very well afford to sell their papers at 50 cents a hundred before the Spanish-American War and only for the reason of the increased demand for papers in a time of war raised their prices, thereby simply taking advantage of the poor boys. Right. So other people are coming around. Right. It's gonna be fine. Oh, sure, surely. How could it not? Well, I think there's a certain way. Have you been to America before? I have.

Everything works out well. I don't believe it does. Then the evening and New York Journal offered free papers to boys who would sell them. That's gonna be tough. That's gonna create some scabs. About a hundred newsies following the lead of Kid Blink. Oh my God. He's got one eye. Yeah. Took them up on it. Each boy was loaded with the papers free from the publishers. As soon as the boys had taken all the papers that were to be given away free, they started destroying them. Oh boy. These papers are like, all right, we don't trust kids anymore. I mean, they're very good. Aren't they good? They're very good for that age. Yeah, really fucking shrewd. Yeah. The boys entered into a competition to see who could tear up

his bundle of free papers first. Okay. Within a few minutes, Park Row in the surrounding area was covered in torn bits of paper. New York Tribune quote, the distribution of these papers caused something like a riot in Park Row. The sweepers of the street cleaning department were called out to clean up the torn papers filled Frankfort Street to a depth of six inches. Wow. So it snowed? Well, it snowed. Yeah. Paper pieces. That's crazy. Kid Blink was arrested and locked up on a charge of disorderly conduct. Kid was bailed out later and came out saying he would lead the strike with renewed bitterness. Okay. It was a hell of a thing for a child to say. Well, these aren't children any longer. I'm going back, but I'm going back voice. But things were turning

against Kid. Word was out that he'd accepted a bribe from one or both papers to end the strike. Oh boy. What? Kid Blink. Stop it. It seems like he's blind in both eyes to the cause of his fellow child. In my opinion. He's got a blind eye of justice if you ask me. This kid can't. Yeah, I'm done. This kid showed up the next day in a new suit. Hey, everyone. You know, I was thinking earlier. Maybe we are being too hard on the newspapers, huh? Anyone for a toothpick? No one had ever seen a news boy in a new suit. Oh, come on. I had this money a long time ago. And he had a large roll of bills. Hey, come on. Take 100. Shut the fuck up. I ain't taking money from nobody. Come on. The same charge was made against several other leaders and suddenly the

strikers were fighting amongst themselves. Oh boy. Well, yeah, you just beat up any kid in a suit. Yeah. It was said that agents from the newspaper were hanging around Park Row with large sums of money at the going rate to buy a news boy was $150. To buy a news boy? Yeah, to buy him off. Okay. Kid Bank was quoted at 200 in a new suit of clothes. So he got $200 in a new suit. I mean, they're children. Yeah, they're children. Hey, you guys want lollipops? New York Chebune, July 30th, quote, internal dissensions and doubt have had the inevitable effect upon the striking news boys, though many of them still asserted yesterday that the fight would be continued. The journal and world were being sold on the street again more than any time

since the strike began. Those boys still on strike were upset and their faith in their own strike leaders was visibly shaken. Well, you can see why because they're walking around in new suits. Oh, you would be shake. Hey, I got a Zoot suit. What are you guys doing? I'm getting stressed at your Zoot suit. Have you seen my crown? I got a new crown. Yeah, it's great. A crown. I'm King Kid. I'm on strike, but I got a brand new suit. I'm the Royal Blinkness. Hey, look at this roll of cash. How about that? Yeah, I'm on strike. So, uh, right. Oh, so the journal and world were being sold on the street again more than any time since the strike began. The boys still on strike were upset

with their own leaders. There were fewer attempts to use violence to stop the scabs. Fewer? Fewer attempts. The energy was sucked out of the boys as they watched their leaders defect, but they still held out hope because news dealers associations had taken up the cause. Another mass meeting was held and the scabs were denounced. One news boy, quote, they are mostly Italians and the sons of foreigners. So now they're, it's all Trump. They're going full Trump. But why do Italians get to be separated? It's sort of weird arbitrary. They're either Italians or not from here, okay? Think about it. We got people from other nations and Italy here.

They're willing to work for nothing. They are fly-by-nights here today and at Coney Island tomorrow. Yeah. Most of us. Where kids belong. Where kids should absolutely be. Most of us boys have regular. They're focused on the cars. He's playing ski balls. Have you been down a cyclone? He's crazy. It's a great roller coaster. Come on. You ate now. Your roller coaster days are over. How about Nathan's hot dogs? No, you're eight. You're too old. You seen the freak show? Cyclone. Look, I got a wife and two kids at home. You're 13. I'm aware of how old I am. I am fully aware of how old I am. You shouldn't. How'd you make a baby? Two babies? Well, I'll explain that to you when you become nine, my friend. I'll tell you the birds and the

bees. Good lord. How old's your wife? I mean, I've always liked older women. What? Yeah, I do. I like older women. She's 14 and a half. Sometimes I think it's too big though. You know, stuff we just don't talk about the same stuff anymore. She's kind of just, she doesn't want to go out anymore. Yeah. She's tired. Yeah. Ever since we had the two kids, stuff in the bedroom isn't great. Of course, I mean jumping on the bed, which is what we do in there. Yeah. We're teenagers. Anyway, when are you going to settle down? I masturbate when I think about dogs. It's disgusting. Unbelievable. It's like puppies. I just like puppies. Okay, you're not, this is not a child behavior. I'm out of here. Until I get erection. I'm running.

But I want it. I'm running really fast. I want to be married like you. Nope. Nope. You don't have the lines. What? You don't have good lines. Don't lead with the masturbating dog bit. What about I like dogs? Better. And coming. No, worse. I'm running. I'm just kidding. I can't come yet. Okay. Bye. Where were we? Oh, Connie Allen. Most of us boys have regular corners and regular trade. There's one class of boys I don't blame for scabbing. These are the poor fellows who have no homes. They are not to be blamed if they do anything to make a few cents. So they're clearly weakening. Yeah, there are there are cracks developed. Yeah. On July 30th, the New York

Herald reported that Kid Blink was not in the city the previous day. He had gone to Connie Allen for much needed rest. Can you imagine reading your paper? And it's saying some of the shit that you just said. How did you hear that? Kid Blinks at Connie Island is exhausted from the race track. Higgins showed up at Park Road to defend himself quote. They say I got 300 for selling out. Do I look it? Why? Here's me trousers fringe like shawls and weighted four pounds less than a straw hat. Look at me shoes full of holes as a sand sifter. You think I'd give up me floral horseshoe for 75 cents? What the hell? Wait, did he win the floral? Wait, he won it. He did. Do you think I'd give up me floral horseshoe for 75 cents if I was getting 300 cold plunks for me

influence? He sold his horseshoe. This is the greatest sentence ever been read on this podcast. I'm going to say it again. Do you think I'd give up me floral horseshoe for 75 cents if I was getting 300 cold plunks for me influence? Cold plunks. Got to start using cold plunks. How many cold plunks I owe you? Good God, he gave up his floral horseshoe. Cold plunks. I guess I'll pod ways with my floral horseshoe. Floral horseshoe. 75 cents. I mean, that's a pretty good offer. That's a fair offer. A news boy named The Colonel gave a description of newspaper agents trying to woo one of the leaders. Well, they didn't get, well, they didn't get Dufty. This morning, an automobile drives up to Dufty's house and there was two guys smoking cigars and throwing

their chests out to beat the band. Is Dufty in the ass? I told them that it wouldn't do them any good to see Dufty for he couldn't be bought. We insist says one of them and then Dufty comes down to the sidewalk. What are your plans? Mr. Dufty says one of them. What do you propose to do today? Mr. Dufty says the other guy. Then they offers him stacks of long green. Dufty said he would starve rather than do honest boys out of their jobs. So after an offer and all kinds of money, they whipped up their automobile and coasted down the street. Good work, Dufty. Fucking Dufty. I love Dufty. He's one of the best. Yeah, he's the best. Putz Butler said he was... Dave, can I just ask a question just for the rest of this? Are there any more normal names?

I don't think there ever were. There's not any so far, but are there any coming up? I doubt it. Okay. All right, good to know. Putz Butler said he was offering $500. I mean, I can't even. Putz Butler. He was offering $500 to stop striking. Yet Oliver Park Row, there were crisp new bills. Cross-eyed Joe understood the boys taking money. Was there tension between Cross-eyed Joe and Blinky? I'm the eye kid. I wish I could see. I'd punch you in the face. Well, I wish there wasn't two of you and I knew which one to punch. Hold them a popsicle stick. It helps me focus. Okay, here's two of them. I can't grab them. God damn it! Quote, what do you expect? How do you think a man can live? Suppose you don't bring home any house money. Why he gets beaten and jumped on

when he gets home. I gotta take home $6 a week house money. Ain't that ten cents on a hundred just as good to me as it is to anybody else? Oh my god. I'm 12. I'm 12. On July 30th, the Harlem Newsboys Union held a meeting in Columbia Music Hall. The meeting was attended by around 1,000 people, newsboys and their friends. The last speaker was Henry Butler, also known as Major Butz. I mean, I didn't, I can't believe an hour ago I didn't know there was a child named Major Butz. All right, next up. Major Butz is going to speak. Corporal balls. Major Butz was the president of the Harlem Newsboy Union. He said he was offered $600 to call the strike off, but he refused, saying that he would not accept $1,000. Okay. So that means

he'd take $1,100. He's basically saying I'll take a little bit more. Well, he was probably like, I mean, that sounds good, but Major Butz. After the meeting, the boys praided the streets, blowing horns and shouting. Oh my god. On. I gotta move. On August. I can't take these boy bands. On August 1st, three newsboys said they were stopped in the street by Kid Blink. Kid said the newspapers were ready to sell them evening papers at $0.55 a hundred. All papers returnable at half price. Okay. The boys followed Kid up into the circulation office of the world. The paper manager asked them, quote, now boys, this strike is hurting both you and us and we want to settle it. Will you take 300 to stop it by six o'clock tonight?

The boys refused to sign an agreement. So the manager walked over shoved a $10 bill into one of their hands and said, quote, that's on account. Then the detective burst through his side door and said, you're all under arrest. Oh my god. This is what happens. I mean, but that's not even proper entrapment. Well, he's got the money in his hand. Yeah, but he like threw it in there. Like I'm the justice. Yeah, well, it's good to be here. The paper said the boys came to the office and demanded 600 to settle the strike. The three newsboys were taken before a magistrate and sent to the tombs on charges of extortion sent to the tombs. Yeah. That's that's like prison. Okay. Yeah. So the paper charged them with extortion. Okay, they're right. Okay.

Joseph Pulitzer's headline was quote, August 1 blackmailers try to profit by strike demand 600 on threats of forcing the newsboys to revive the boycott. All are known as speculators. Pulitzer alleged these type of speculators organized the strike and intimidated the newsboys quote, the speculators instigated the strike and intimidated the boys who are really who really were anxious to sell papers. Now that the strike has fizzled out, the speculators were anxious to make a stake out of it. They got money from other newspapers while the strike was on. It is said a committee got $30 from the evening telegram besides posters and banners announcing the boycott. Another committee is said to have received $10 from the evening news

with which to buy banners and hire a brass band. The New York Tribune two is said to have contributed $10 to help along the boycott and attending disorder. Okay. Now Pulitzer is conspiracy. Now he's right. Right. Yeah. He's doing exactly how you get a Pulitzer. Right. Yeah. Why did this prize get named after him? I didn't have to look that up. I did not think to look that up because after this I was like leads a fucking asshole. The next day the New York Tribune said the strike was over quote, the newsboys boycott against the world and the journal seems to be at an end. Nearly every boy downtown is now handling the newspapers that were boycotted. The reason for the change the boys say is that they are permitted to make full returns on all unsold papers at the

end of the day. Okay. So the newspapers didn't give them the 60 cents, 50 cents. But they are allowed to sell the papers. So they did win a battle. And that would potentially, I mean, I guess it's hard to figure it out, but that would potentially be a better, I think, I think if you probably had a better deal, especially they're putting on more edition. Yeah, right. So now James Pulitzer would reframe the strike. Pulitzer's paper kept pumping out articles. One came out explaining the paper only made five tenths of one cent per copy while the delivery department got one tenth of one cent. But the newsboy get four tenths of one cent for every copy sold quote, almost as much simply for holding the paper in his arms as the world's

get to pay its union workers, editors, artists, photographers, pressmen, and white ink paper, ink news cable, and telegraph tolls. Okay. So they're, he's, it's fucking harsh. Josh at the boys. No, but it's fucking live. There's no way that the boys are making more money than everybody in the fucking business. Right. Paper claim newsboys made $2 to $3 a day on a regular day and $4 to $6 on big news days. And the boycott was created by rival newspapers. Quote, there is no strike of newsboys at present. The unorganized movement led by those who hoped to gain public confidence by lying about their successful rivals long ago collapsed. So that was it. So the newsboys won, but then the newspapers framed it like they

that they had evil greedy and they lost. Right. Well, that's hard when you can control the rhetoric. Yeah. We, going up against newspapers is like you can win, but you'll lose the PR battle, right? Right. Because they have the power of dictating what people will think. Yeah. Quite a powerful position if you really think about it. Well, at least they, at least they handle it well. You know what I mean? I can't imagine being so grown up at such a young age. I guess it's circumstance based, but it's still so. Reminds me of what I went through. I got to go. You know, I'm from Miranda. I have to go now. Frank County. Yeah. Nice area. Well, nice. Yeah. What did you do as a kid there?

Tennis. Sounds tough. Soccer. Sounds really tough. We ride our mountain bikes up in the hills. Oh, gosh. How did you even? Sometimes my, my mom wouldn't come home to like five. Oh, God. Oh, so you were almost the latchkey. Yeah. Good Lord. Dave, you've been through enough. You're basically the news you have today. Our cat died recently. No, I think I was, I think I was 14. Well, nobody can tell you the timeline for grieving. But that, but that's like, like, so I get childhood. Well, guys, this is an episode of the dollop. We sign cars. I get their pain. You know what I mean? I get, I understand suffering. Sure. Sure. I'm signing off. We recorded tonight at the All Things Comedy Studio. I'm English with a Welsh

name. All Things Comedy has a lot of great podcasts on, I am from garbage people, technically, absolutely. All Things Comedy has a lot of great podcasts. Check them out. We want to thank Aaron for helping us out in the studio this evening. And it's lovely to be here. They're, we signed cars. All right, P. Jose, we're going to miss you, buddy. What?