Miscellaneous.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1636, 30 December 1882, Page 6

Miscellaneous.

A VBRYvBICH NEWSBOY. " Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis, San JYancisco, and Kansas City morning papers 1" This cry has been heard on "the streets of Denver for years. It is uttered by a square built, smooth-faced, matter-of-fact looking man, whose voice has struck a certain pitch which has increased in force with long practice. , His name is Mykins, and he is, without a doubt, the richest newsboy in the United States. Mykins has discovered no gold mines ; he' is no bonanza king. He has made his money by selling papers at ten cents apiece, and blacking boots at ten cents per shine. He invested his money in property in Denver, and loaned it out, and he is worth to-day from $40,000 to $50,000. A queer fellow is Mykins. Night and day he hawks his papers on the street. He knows just where a paper can be sold. He is at the depdts at the right hours; he knows just when to go to the hotels, and he can spot a stranger on the street, and sell him a paper, while one is wondering what piaeebe came from. " Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis, San ■ Francisco, and Kansas City morning papers I" There the cry is heard where many people are gathered together, and many dimes are raked in. One day Mykins passed. "Do you see that newsboy?" said a gentleman to the man 'of news. "He is worth $50,000." • " How does he make it ?" "He came here a few years ago ■ and commenced selling Eastern papers 1 and blacking boots/ He averaged $10 per day at' -the former business and no inconsiderable amount from the latter; 'He 'invested his money and now owns several fine residences on Lawrence and Fourteenth streets, two or three of those Grant houses on Welton street, some fine property on California street, and besides has any amount of money loaned out at interest. He is a rustler, arid >wm black your boots for a dime — at least he would a few months ago." The speaker led the way to the newsboy's stand. r An old coal box near the corner of Sixteenth and Larimer streets r with a bootblacking chair and apparatus at one end of it,* marked the place of business of a' man who was worth enough to make' him 'comfortable for a lifetime. "'< > ' , " Why'doh't you interview Mykins ?" 1 But this was easier said than done. .' Mykins is evidently a man of sterling .business/ principles. One dime realised from the 'sale of one paper is evidently more to him than an hour's conversation with the most interesting gentleman in the world. He did not desire to tell; anything 'about his'business. : Yes, he sold a good many 1 papers. '■; Sometimes he 1 had a boy to help him. ' He had' 1 been here several 1 years — yes. ■■ Most of :these' papers are shipped through to Mykins direct. They cost him from two ' to 'four ''cents. _ He • sells, them for ten -"cents Ja 'number. f ' ! He prefers to peddle them on- the street, 'and; ' doubtless}* has' found- that » the most profitable way of conducting his business. He knows the value of 'his-, trade, >and, that = 'srriall are often more profitable than large one's; - By careful He has '^work&lyip #$line' tiff.' customers to whom he? fleHvleW#ap6rs<»lf«fifty cento sper week.', k X-, * - i;f:Myk^fei B fitfimarrie'd.'^He^6b''kS;ilikefihe- ? man^itlMi&he is'^His > #ace iff byph^ed.-'by^expopure td^the sup'-ahd* as'sharfeSn'd^iefcing ' as^years \of conlinued^ lexlrtiolpn%nt>sMiiiitean'ny£e;it. t»MV v : , #KoMtftrtfed*;/tb^' J '.train { of mihough^ 'about itiieWdm*ihe^

,had fallen intoj an uneasy -|leep, from which, ibn^pJE the chUdten'arouSed-Bae^jlt^fvsj perohaps, more than ah hour' ' After Jtm^ffißlwnile I was wide a^ake, that I became cojascious of a strange presence itiftfcheroom, and 'you may weUimagine^^Jnth what; mingled feelings of joy^andfear Ijieard George's vdice,arid, 166kinglup, saw him standing by the ' bedside— saw him as pla&ly as I now see you.- He-was saying :■ ' Coiliit th^.bellfillland as he spoke I distinctly heard the^ bells* of t a^ship striking, two by two, the strokes of the hour. ' Count them,' continued my husband, and I said, •Yes, George.' I remember that when the seventh _sounded I thought that if it was'ti ship's bell there could be but one more; and, as the last sound died away, my husband said: 'Eight. bells; the Jeannette is lost 1 ' and vanished from the room. At - that moment the sitting-room clock struck the hour of fqur,,anditwas the morning of the 11th of June. At that very hour on that very morning'- the Jeannette 'went down into the fathdmtess depths of the Arctic Ocean, and the ice floe closed over her* grave. ' I am no spiritualist," continued Mrs. Melville), " nor do I believe ifl spirits. Ido not attempt to 'explain what I have just told you, but it is, every word of it, true. I never expected after that td hear ,of the safety of the crew of the Jeannette. A' few weeks after the "occurrence which I have narrated, and at the same hour in the morning, I had arisen for the day and was in the hall which you see there. Again ;I saw 'my husband — nay, I even felt his breath in my face. I was dreadfully startled, but had sufficient courage to call out : 1 George,' is that you?' when the figure disappeared as if swallowed up in the air." " And did y<?u never speak of this before ?' said the astonished reporter. "Frequently," said Mrs. Melville, " frequently to our little household, and once tb Mrs. DeLong, the unfortunate wife of the commander of the Jeannette. Last summer, or in the early fall, I met her in Philadelphia. She was hopeful, even confident of the return of her husband. I was cast down, and finally told her what I have just related to you. She was disposed to laugh at me, but I told her that I believed that the Jeannette had been lost on the 11th June. Alasl fprjpoor Mrs. DeLong, my prophecy was too true. Here is a letter, from her to my little girl on the very day the news came that Captain DeLong's dead body had been found." — Philadelphia Record. EXPEDIENCES WITH A HERMIT. A wealthy resident in one of Cincinnati's most beautiful suburbs has left one nook of his magnificent place in puris naturalibus. In this wild corner of his estate, the owner conceived the idea of erecting a hermitage, and, immediately proceeded to gratify his odd fancy by having built in the heart of the tangled'underwood aud shrubbery, a quaint, rude' structure, such as hermits are popularly supposed' to affect. Delighted with' the romantic appearance of his hermitage,' and filled with a new sense of the wild beauty of its location, the gentleman determined tb perfect his work by employing 'a hermit, and here he enoountered his first difficulty. ' Hermits who thoroughly understand their business he found it impossible to reach by the brdinary mediums of advertising; for, although he kept an advertisement standing for weeks in all of the papers, he did not receive a single application for the position. The advertisement read : " Wanted, a good live hermit ; one who does not know how old he is, has forgotten how to talk, has never heard of the war, is warranted not to wash, and who eats roots, preferred. Apply, "etc. ■" Finally deciding that it would be impossible to obtain his beau ideal hermit, he thus modified his advertisement: "Wanted a dirty old man who hates work, to live in a house on my place free of charge. None but the friendless need apply: a good salary to the right kind of a man." Two or three hundred wretched old tramps answered this advertisement the day it appeared, one of whom was v selected and duly installed as proprietor of the hermitage, and for a -few days everything went well. The abnormal appetite of his hermit for bread and roast beef was not in accord with the gentleman's pre-conceived ideas of the cravings of a hermit's inner man, which he had always understood had a natural inclination for a root and raw dog diet. In other respects, however, the hermit was highly satisfactory, and the gentleman paid him his first week's wages without demur. Then the hermit asked permission to get off for half a day ; said he wanted to run down town to buy a'few little things ; he would not [ qbe gone more than three or four hours ;' he ' could ride both iva-ya on the .Eden Park cars. The gentleman protested against such unhermit like conduct, and endeavoured to show how utterly inconsistent it would be for one of his profession to ride on horse cars or go down town, but to no purpose, and he^ finally, though 'very reluctantly, gave his hermit a half-holiday, with the understanding that it shouldn't occur again. Well, the hermit boarded a car, and, reaching town, proceeded immediately to get outside of a quantity of sour mash. Then he went to a, barber's shop and had a clean shave, a hair-cut and a shampoo, and then, acting upon the barber's advice, he sought a bath house, where he indulged in a Turkish bath. At this latter place the opportunity presented itself, and he stole the entire fashionable outfit of another bather, which he donned, leaving in their stead his cassock, cowl, girdle, sandals and staff. From thence he took in the matinee, where he mashed the girls, went out between each act, and altogether comported himself in a genteel way, and entirely becoming the tight boots and pants, short-tailed coat and low-crowned hat that he'wore. Late that night he reached the hermitage, where he was confronted by his astounded patron, who, when convinced of the identity ofghis late hermit, I*bitterly1 * bitterly reproached him. "-You have abused my trust in you and ruined your prospects," he said. "In a few short hours yon have undone the work that fifteen years of slovenliness and hunger and exposure will not replace! ' You are toney, and maybe able to do something in a bunko way, but as a hermit you are no longer available. Leave me!" And the hermitage is now vacant. I , —Saturday Night.