Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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Down the street Teege walked, faster and faster. His excitement seemed to propel his legs. Soon his eyes lit upon a two story building, drab and musty look- ing. Glandestien's at last! His heart playing a steady tatoo with his footsteps, he entered a long, narrow, low-ceilinged room which displayed everything from com- mon pins to supposedly Oriental rugs. A thin. Scrooge-like man with stooped shoulders, small sunken-in-eyes and a wide mouth with thin, tight lips which betrayed his false smile of friendliness and disclosed a life-time of shrewdness, spoke. Hello, Sonny, what can I do for you? Well, Sir, I d like to see some of your pocket-books.” then as an after thought, the best you have. Well, Son, I have just the kind you want, yes, just the kind you want,” replied Mr. Glandestien. He proceeded to drag out a greenish-black suede bag of undeterminable age. Teege looked at it uncertainly. “Are you sure that’s the best you have? he asked Mr. Glandestien. How much is it? the inexperienced twelve year old asked. Well now. seeing it’s you, it’s only three dollars and seventy-five cents. Oh.” said Teege, with dismay. I have only two dollars and fifteen cents. Hmmm, I’ll tell you what to do. You can give me that two dollars and fif- teen cents as a down payment and I’ll promise not to sell the bag until you get the rest of the money. How’s that?” Gee. that will be swell, said Teege and with a last lingering look at the bag. went out and proceeded down the street to his corner. Suddenly Teege stopped short. Why it couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t be true. But it was true. There was the Worm. He had taken Teege’s corner. He had broken the rule. He had taken somebody else’s corner. In a newsboy’s eyes that was an unpardonable sin. Teege walked up to the culprit. Hello, Worm. I suppose you know this is my corner. Ya mean it urns your corner, dontcha? Suddenly Porky and Coco came around the corner. Sensing the situation Porky said, Whatcha doin’ on Teege’s corner. Worm? You know it’s against the rules.” That’s a rule you fellas made, not me, so I ain’t in on it. In the first place Twenty-two

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oLi'iiOiv tlijt'i OLi'iU L .JvivhnJ QUINCY, MASS. Hfke cWonna tuiriA By MARIE COLETTI W uxtryl Wuxtry! That was the call of Teegc Finnegan from seven o’clock in the morning until seven at night. Teege was a newsboy of twelve years. He was the eldest of five children of Mrs. Finnegan whose husband had died three years ago, leaving Teege as one of the principal supporters, the other being his mother, who earned a few dollars by tak- ing in washing. Teege was a thin, wizen-faced boy. with a bright red mop of bristled hair, and huge gray-green eyes that popped from their sockets and stared at the dull and dreary world. Teege belonged to a newsboys’ club. It consisted of four members: Teege, Porky, a slightly tubbish-Iooking fellow who had just passed his ninth birthday, George Washington Brown, familiarly known as Coco Brown, a colored lad of eleven years, who idolized Teege so that he was sometimes called Teege’s Shadow and the last, but certainly not least, member of this club was the Worm, why so called no one knew. The Worm was a queer fellow. He was a thin, ragged-looking individual. No one knew where he lived and no one really cared. He was a mean-looking fellow with a sly, over-experienced look in his eyes for a boy of fourteen years. He never associated with any of the other newsboys and had invited himself into Teege’s group, much to the resentment of Porky and Coco. However, Teege ac- cepted him for there wasn’t much else he could do. It was only three weeks before Christmas and as Teege was on his way to his customary corner to sell his papers, he thought of what he was going to get his mother and brothers for Christmas. His mind was occupied most with what he was to get his mother. Then suddenly a thought struck him. “Gee, he said, “Ma never had a pocket-book. She always has to tie her money in a hanky. I know what I’ll do. I am going down to Glandestien’s and look ’em over.” Twenty-one

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this is a better corner and in the second place I’m staying here and there’s nothing you can do about it, so get along.” With that he turned away and commenced selling papers again. Coco rolled his big black eyes. Porky heaved a sigh of disgust, and Teege stuck his hands way down deep in his pockets. Thus the three walked on slowly down the street. Teege turned homeward that night and many nights afterward, with heavy footsteps. He never could get a real good corner again and his family needed the money. Besides he just had to get his mother that pocket-book although there would never be much money in it and therefore, not much use to his mother. But then who was to think of that? Certainly not twelve-year-old Teege. Meanwhile the Worm was getting all of Teege’s trade. But the neighborhood did not forget what he had done to Teege. Now we know why they call him the Worm,” they said. In the meantime, the Worm found no glory in what he had done. The neigh- bors would not let him forget. He was used to it, he would say. He had done it before to other newsboys and nothing had ever happened like this. Oh well, they’ll get over it, he said. But he still couldn’t explain that queer, choked-up feeling, when he saw any of the other boys, and his head just had the tendency to hang down. Finally two days before Christmas, the Worm decided he couldn’t keep the corner any longer. Meanwhile, Teege had gone to Glandestien’s to tell him he couldn’t buy the pocket-book as he had only sixty-two cents. Well, Son. seeing it’s Christmas and all. I’ll let you have it for the two dol- lars and eighty-seven cents. Teege thanked him, and with the precious package clutched in his long, thin fingers, he went on home. ou may be sure Glandestien did not lose too much money in that transaction. And so it was that as Teege went trudging up the path to his front door he spied a piece of paper tied to the door-knob which read: THE KONER IS WAITING FOR YO” THE WORM Teege s eyes lit up brighter than the solitary candle in the window. It was Christmas and the Worm had turned. Twenty-three