Tom was unusually strong and active for one of his years, and he expected to have trouble from the envy of the other boys.

When he purchased his fifty Heralds, long before daylight, there seemed to be an army of newsboys ahead of him, and he was looked upon and muttered about in the most threatening manner.

He had scarcely reached the sidewalk when he was set upon by a couple of vigorous gamins, with the evident intent of discouraging him in the new business.

The others gathered around to see the fun.

They saw it.

The fiery urchins, though both were as large as, and no doubt older than,
Tom, were literally “nowhere” in the fight.

He conquered them in less than a minute without receiving a scratch, and then, turning to the crowd, remarked that if there was any one or two or a dozen there that wanted to tackle him, all they had to do was to come forward.  No one came, and Tom sauntered off to sell his newspapers.

It was exceedingly distasteful; but he was spurred on by necessity, and he went at it with the impetuosity of a veteran.

His success was below his expectations.

There seems to be a right way of doing everything, no matter how insignificant, which can only be learned by practice.  Despite his natural quickness, Tom failed in more than one respect.

He hadn’t the right change in several instances, and the men wouldn’t wait while he darted into a store for it, but bought of some other boy who thrust himself forward.  No matter where he turned, it seemed to the young hero that some more wide-awake newsboy was ahead of him, leaving only the aftermath for him to gather.

He boarded several of the crowded street-cars, and was kicked off one of them because he accidentally trod on a gouty old gentleman’s toes, he being the president of the road.

However, all this, and much more indeed, is the sad accompaniment of the poor little gamins who fight each other in their strife as to who shall have the preference in leaving the morning sheet smoking hot at our doors while we are wrapped in slumber.

After carefully balancing accounts that evening, Tom found he was exactly seven cents ahead.

On the next day he fell nine cents behind, but on the third there was exciting war news, and he not only rushed off his usual supply, and the same number repeated, but he obtained in many instances fancy prices, and cleared several dollars.

This was encouraging, but the day was marked by the greatest mortification of his life.

He had rushed in his impetuous manner into a streetcar, when some one called his name, and he turned about and saw Sam Harper and his sister, both of whom had been his classmates at the Briggsville school, and Tom was accustomed to look upon Nellie as a little above ordinary mortals.

Sam shook hands with Tom, and made some jocose remark about his new business; but Nellie sneered, and looked out the car window.