Chapter 2201: Chapter 2201

While talking to Jenkins, the boy scanned the street for potential customers. But on a rainy day , few people wanted to carry a newspaper through the downpour, aside from someone like Jenkins, who had ulterior motives. The weather’s impact on his business was obvious.

“Have you... never considered a different kind of life?”

Jenkins asked again, hoping his question wouldn’t make the boy suspicious.

The boy’s eyes tracked a passing two-wheeled carriage, his voice a little distracted. He was probably hoping the noble passenger would lean out, glance his way, and buy a paper, but of course, that hope was dashed.

“What other possibility could be better than me inheriting that old widower’s carriage?”

The boy clearly had little respect for his future mentor.

“Like learning to read and then finding a respectable job as a clerk. Or studying arithmetic—you can count coins accurately, so you must have some grasp of numbers. With a little more learning, it wouldn't be hard to become an accountant. Your life has only just begun. There are countless possibilities waiting for you.”

The young newsboy had thought things through quite a bit. He wasn't naive. A boy his age, making a living on the streets and managing to claim a spot to sell papers, could hardly be naive.

“So you're satisfied with this plan? You don't have any other ambitions?”

Jenkins asked once more. The boy's reply was quick:

With that, he hurried out from under the eaves, clutching his satchel, and approached an old gentleman walking unhurriedly under an umbrella as if admiring the rainy scenery. The man had refined clothes and a neatly trimmed goatee; he was clearly a well-born nobleman.

“Sir, would you like a newspaper?”

the newsboy asked. The old gentleman turned to look at him, seemingly intrigued, but still shook his head slowly. The boy didn't pester him, returning to the shelter of the silversmith's eaves with a disappointed expression.

Jenkins took another copper coin from his small pouch.

“How about we talk for another penny's worth?”

Their previous conversation had earned Jenkins more of the boy's trust. This time, he didn't refuse, happily accepting the coin and not forgetting to thank Jenkins for his generosity.

Jenkins decided to change his approach. Since he couldn't spark the boy's ambition for a better life, he would try to entice him in other ways.

“Do you read knightly novels?”

Most boys loved knightly novels—not for any racy content, but for the thrill of their fantastical plots, just like the original Jenkins. He had been drawn to them precisely because he knew he could never experience such adventures himself, so he read and imagined instead.

The newsboy looked at Jenkins, puzzled.

“Sir, what makes you think I can read?”

Jenkins had been careless. While there were books that were mostly pictures, they were usually illegal, racy publications. He wanted to use the plots of knightly novels to make the boy realize how exciting life could be, but proper knightly novels required a significant vocabulary.

“You can’t read a single word?”

“I know some. I sell newspapers, after all.”

He proudly patted his satchel.

“If I couldn't read at all, I wouldn't even be able to hawk the headlines. Sir, I'm the best news hawker around here!”

As he said this, the boy's eyes lit up.

“Sir, how about I give you a demonstration?”

He was still thinking he couldn't just take Jenkins's money for nothing.

Jenkins said with a smile. The boy cleared his throat and shouted:

“Queen Isabella declares a special pardon! Notorious political prisoner Old Potter to be released!”

His voice carried through the rain, drawing glances from people nearby. Though no one came to buy a paper, the boy was still delighted.

“Sir, what did you think?”

“Excellent. You're the best news hawker I've ever seen.”

A huge smile spread across the boy's face. Only then did Jenkins feel that he was, after all, just a child.

“Since you job so much, why not keep doing it?”

Jenkins felt he had finally found the right angle.

“Because you can’t make much money selling papers. It’s not even enough to support myself, just enough to help out at home. Besides, have you ever seen older boys selling papers on the street? This kind of small change is only worth it for kids who can’t do other work. And people are more willing to buy from a kid.

Even if I can't get that job with the old widower, I can't sell papers here forever. Even though I really job... I love the smell of fresh ink.”

He lifted his satchel slightly, brought his nose close to the remaining newspapers, and took a deep breath, a look of bliss on his face.

“If you really love newspapers, there are other jobs you could do, you know.”

The newsboy, who claimed to only want a stable life, didn't immediately refuse this time. So Jenkins pressed on:

“You know, if you learn to read properly, your future will have so many more possibilities. You like newspapers, right? A simple job would be a porter at a newspaper office, though that pays less than driving a carriage. But have you ever thought... that you could become a reporter?”

The boy knew what a reporter was, but he couldn't believe he could ever be one. That was a job for educated people.

“Sir, you’re not joking, are you?”

“Joking? Of course not. Did you know, you can start doing a reporter’s work right now? Newspaper offices need stories, but they can't possibly know everything that happens in the city. They're just ordinary people, after all.”

Jenkins winked at the boy.

“So, how do you think they find out about all that news?”

“Someone tells them!”

the boy answered instantly. His eyes were no longer scanning the street for customers; they were fixed on Jenkins.

“That's right. The newspaper offices have their own informants... people who provide them with fresh news. So, why can't you become an informant for a newspaper? Besides selling papers and looking after your younger siblings, don't you have plenty of time to spend out on the streets?” Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on NovєlFіre.net