But now the income of the family was cut down more than one-third, and the food demand was cut only one-eleventh, so that they were worse off than ever.  Also they were borrowing money from Marija, and eating up her bank account, and spoiling once again her hopes of marriage and happiness.  And they were even going into debt to Tamoszius Kuszleika and letting him impoverish himself.  Poor Tamoszius was a man without any relatives, and with a wonderful talent besides, and he ought to have made money and prospered; but he had fallen in love, and so given hostages to fortune, and was doomed to be dragged down too.

So it was finally decided that two more of the children would have to leave school.  Next to Stanislovas, who was now fifteen, there was a girl, little Kotrina, who was two years younger, and then two boys, Vilimas, who was eleven, and Nikalojus, who was ten.  Both of these last were bright boys, and there was no reason why their family should starve when tens of thousands of children no older were earning their own livings.  So one morning they were given a quarter apiece and a roll with a sausage in it, and, with their minds top-heavy with good advice, were sent out to make their way to the city and learn to sell newspapers.  They came back late at night in tears, having walked for the five or six miles to report that a man had offered to take them to a place where they sold newspapers, and had taken their money and gone into a store to get them, and nevermore been seen.  So they both received a whipping, and the next morning set out again.  This time they found the newspaper place, and procured their stock; and after wandering about till nearly noontime, saying “Paper?” to every one they saw, they had all their stock taken away and received a thrashing besides from a big newsman upon whose territory they had trespassed.  Fortunately, however, they had already sold some papers, and came back with nearly as much as they started with.

After a week of mishaps such as these, the two little fellows began to learn the ways of the trade—­the names of the different papers, and how many of each to get, and what sort of people to offer them to, and where to go and where to stay away from.  After this, leaving home at four o’clock in the morning, and running about the streets, first with morning papers and then with evening, they might come home late at night with twenty or thirty cents apiece—­possibly as much as forty cents.  From this they had to deduct their carfare, since the distance was so great; but after a while they made friends, and learned still more, and then they would save their carfare.  They would get on a car when the conductor was not looking, and hide in the crowd; and three times out of four he would not ask for their fares, either not seeing them, or thinking they had already paid; or if he did ask, they would hunt through their pockets, and then begin to cry, and either have their fares paid by some kind old lady, or else try the trick again on a new car.  All this was fair play, they felt.  Whose fault was it that at the hours when workingmen were going to their work and back, the cars were so crowded that the conductors could not collect all the fares?  And besides, the companies were thieves, people said—­had stolen all their franchises with the help of scoundrelly politicians!