The Pulaskian., 1921-11-24

they got desk from that nasty little tdenry Rooters mothers attic; and a table and some chairs, and d map on the wall; and that's their newspaper office. They go out and look for what's the news, and write it down in ink and then they go through the gate to the other side of the railing where the printing press is, and print it for their newspaper"
 But what do they do on the fence so much?"
 That's where they go to watch what the news is" Florence explained morosely. ''They think they're so grand, sittin' up there, pokin, around. They go other places, too; and they ask people. That's all they said I could be v Here the Iady's bitterness became strongly intensified. "They said, maybe I could be one O the ones they asked if I knew anything, some times, if they happen to think of il! I just respeetf'ly told 'em I'd decline to wipe my oldest shoes on 'em to save their lives p
 Mrs. Atwater sighed. You mustn't use such expressions, Florence
 T don't see why not" the daughter objected. "They're lot more refined than the expressions they used on mel"
 'Then I'm very glad you didn't play with them9
 But at this, Florence once more gave way to filial despair. Mama. you just can't see through anything I've said anyhow fifty times they ain't aren't playing They're getting up q real newspaper. and people buy it, and everything. They have been all over this part of town and got every aunt and uncle they have, besides their own fathers and mothers, and some people in the neighborhood, and Kitty Silver and two or three other colored people besides, that work for families they know. They're going to charge twenty-five cents a year, coIeet-in-ad- vance because they want the money first; and even papa gave 'em guar ter last night; he told me so."
 How often do they publish their paper, FIorenee2" Mrs. AtWater in- quifed somewhat absently, having re- sumed her sewing.
 Every week; and they're goin' to have the first one q week from .to- day"
 What do they call it?"
 ".fhe North End Daily Oriole. It's the silliest name I ever heard for newspaper; and I told lem so. I told em what I thought of it, I guess !''
 'Was that the reason?" Mrs. At water asked
 "Was it what reason, mama?"
 "Was it the reason they wouldn't let you he a reporter with them?"
 ''Poohl" Florence exclaimed airily. q didn't want anything to do with their ole paper. But anyway I didn't make fun O their callin' it the North End Daily Oriole till after they said I couldn't be in it. Then did, you beti
 Florence, don't say"
 Mama, got to say somep'm We'll, 1 told 'em l wouldn't be in their ole paper If they begged me on their bent ed knees; and I said if they begged me a thousand years I wouldn't be in any paper with such crazy name; and I wouldn't tell 'em any news if l knew the President of the United States had the scarlet fever! I just politely informed 'em they could say what they liked if they was dying; declined so much as wipe the oldest shoes I got on emp
 "But why wouldn't they let you be on the paper?" her mother insisted.
 Upon this Florence became analyti- cal. "Just so's they could act so inn portant!" And she added, as con- sequence: "They ought to be arrest ed''
 Mrs. Atwater murmured absently, but forbore to press her inquiry; and Florence was silent, in a breeding mood The journalists upon the fence had disappeared from view, during the conversation with her mother; and presently she sighed and quietly left the room. She went to her own apart ment, where, at small and rather battered little white desk, after pc riod of earnest reverie, she took up a pen, wet the point in purple ink, and without any great effort or any crlti' daJou;pOc rrodi1aad raop1