The age-herald., 1898-06-05
Not Reconcentrados
Only NeWsboYs


 They are not reconcentrados. they are not even insurgents. There is no senti- mental halo, surrounding their young lives, if they are sometimes hungry, and me- times need ordinary clothing to keep away the stiEging cid fir m their fr-.i young bodies.
 They do not live within sound of the murmuring, signing blue waves, which Kiss the Cuban shores through the long sum- mer days.
 No great government ships. filed with food will ever anchor at their doors; no Red Cross nurses will tenderly care for them when pain and fever come. They are fighting their battles alone. without outside intervention and whatever the result may be. there will be no chang of foreign policy to disturb the political parties of the na- tion. They are neither reconcentrados nor insurgents. but only two little Birmingham newsboys, who, rain or shine, warm or cold traverse these busy street from be- fore the early dawn until night comes again to cover the siekening ills or n1e Wltn a kindly palD, crying out With chiiulsn' strident voices, "Ere s your paper ere your paper" When the great town clock etrixes 2 At night these two little news boy brothers find their way to The Age Herald building, and with a refreshing pro- pr.etary air, march back into the press room and almost before you can recover from the surprise of seeing the two young sters apparently in charge of the lower floor of the big journals quarters they are fast asleep on the big rolls of paper In the great dark room, while the maehlnes are click-clockfng on the upper floor, ana just above them the editorial 1ofce IS working, working, Work nB, NHis hs world sleeps.
 But nose and the exp ndtture or rerVe and mental force do not disturb these two weary little fellows; they nesd rest ana sleep and must have it b f5re the mug press begins it's Work ana tne papeis e'ie ready for sale.
 There are not so very many hours be- tween 9 at night and 33) o'c ock in the morning for the weary boys to secure fe- pose. but if you were to peep into that great press room during these hours you would find two little Jumps of human clay coiied up among the paper, too tired even to dream and all the guns Of Sampsons fleet would scarcely awaken them IT they thundered above their curly hea1s. Ere the dawn comes, while the press Is nd1ng out thousands of papers for eager readers the little boys awake, rub their eyes and begin to prepare for the days battle
 They are on the streets early, selling the morning popers; they offer you tEe Con stitution and the New York journals at midday, and as the sun dec ines in the west they sell News and Ledgers to add to their meagre income. One day Is but the reptition of the day that went before, but these newsboys never complain, and never lose heart Thsy have the rlIck and nerve of mature panbood, although only and 10 short years stand to their ac- count.
 If you ask them how they are farirg they look up courageously into your ffce ara answer "Oh we are dong all ri h.; ve made quarter today and thirty cents yes terday, and you know boys can't be hungry when they have that much money. We give mother all we can spare, because she has a mighty hard time washing and iron l ing. But she and the little children ant starving, and they ain't going to as long l as there's papers for us to sell
 If you inquired why they slept in the | press room instead of at home with their | mother they will tell you that they must l wake up every morning at 3:30 o'clock and l the press room is the only place to insure | this. As the brave little fellows passed into | the dark room a few nights ago to drop | to sleep upon their beds of surplus papers | I bade them "good-nlght," to which they | brightly and cheerily responded "good- l night" as the great door closed and shut | them out from the noise of the passing, | busy. bustIing city I fell to speculating | about American inhumanity to American humanity, the reconcentrados, the insur- | gents; the Red Cross nurses; the ships filled | with food for Cuban sufferers, until drop ped into restless dreams, in which foreign l and domestic policies became weefully | mixed, and the poor little newsboys were | transferred into Miss Cisneros and Karl | Decker and ever afterward lived on the | ssfat of the land"