"Those were the anxious days of the Civil War," the lecturer continued,"and every-one was worked up to a high pitch of excitement most of thetime. When it was rumored that a battle had been fought the newspaperssold 'like hot cakes.' Any other boy would have been satisfied if hecould supply as many papers as people wanted and let it go at that. Butthat was not the way with young Edison. He was not content with hopingfor an opportunity. He made his opportunity.
"In spite of his getting into trouble so often, Al was a most likablelad, and a real boy,--earnest, honest and industrious. He had a bigstock of horse sense and a great fund of humor. Though his life seemedto be 'all work and no play,' he took great pleasure in his work. In thecourse of his daily routine at Detroit, he could hardly help makingfriends on the _Free Press_, the greatest newspaper there. In this heresembled that other great inventor, also a great worker as aboy--Benjamin Franklin.
"Young Edison had a friend up in the printing office who let him seeproofs from the edition being set up, so that he kept posted as to whatwas to be in the paper before it came off the press. After the _FreePress_ came out, he had to get an armful and hustle for his train. Inthis shrewd way the train-boy was better off than 'he who runs mayread,' for he _had_ read, and could _shout_ while running: 'All aboutthe big battle!' So he sold his papers in short order. He had learned toestimate ahead how many papers the news of a battle ought to sell, andso he stocked up well beforehand. One day he saw in the advance proofs aharrowing account of the great two-days' battle of Shiloh. He graspednot only the news value but also the strategic importance of thatvictory.
"Running down to the telegraph office at the Grand Trunk Station inDetroit, he told the operator all about it. Edison has told us himselfabout the offer he made that telegrapher:
"'If you will wire to every station on my run and get the station masterto chalk up on the blackboard out on the station platform that there hasbeen a big battle, with thousands killed and wounded, I'll give you_Harper's Weekly_ free for six months!'
"The operator agreed and that Edison boy tore back to the _Free Press_office.
"'I want a thousand papers!' he gasped. 'Pay you to-morrow!' This wasmore than three times as many as he had taken out before, so the clerkrefused to trust him.
"'Where's Mr. Storey?' demanded the lad. The clerk snickered as hejerked his head toward where the managing editor was talking with a'big' man from out of town. Young Edison was forced to break in, but theeditor noticed how anxious and business-like he was. When the boy hadtold him what he wanted, the great newspaper man scribbled a few wordson a scrap of paper and handed it down to him, saying:
"'Here, take this. Wish you good luck!'
"Al handed the clerk the order and got his thousand papers at once. Hehired another 'newsie' to help him down to the station with them. Longafter this, he told the rest of the story:
"'At Utica, the first station, twelve miles out of Detroit, I usuallysold two papers at five cents each. As we came up I put my head out andthought I saw an excursion party. The people caught sight of me andcommenced to shout. Then it began to occur to me that they wantedpapers. I rushed back into the car, grabbed an armful, and sold fortythere.
"'Mt. Clemens was the next stop. When that station came in sight, Ithought there was a riot. The platform was crowded with a howling mob,and I realized that they were after news of Shiloh, so I raised theprice to ten cents, and sold a hundred and fifty where I never had gotrid of more than a dozen.
"'At other stations these scenes were repeated, but the climax came whenwe got to Port Huron. I had to jump off the train about a quarter of amile from the station which was situated out of town. I had paid a bigDutch boy to haul several loads of sand to that point, and the engineersknew I was going to jump so they slowed down a bit. Still, I was quitean expert on the jump. I heaved off my bundle of papers and landed allright. As usual, the Dutch boy met me and we carried the rest of thepapers toward the town.
"'We had hardly got half way when we met a crowd hurrying toward thestation. I thought I knew what they were after, so I stopped in front ofa church where a prayer-meeting was just closing. I raised the price totwenty-five cents and began taking in a young fortune.
"'Almost at the same moment the meeting closed and the people camerushing out. The way the coin materialized made me think the deacons hadforgotten to pass the plate in that meeting!'
"In those days they commonly called trainboys 'Candy Butchers'; theterms 'Newsies' and 'Peanuts' may have been used then also but were notso common. They are not so common on trains nowadays, except in the Westand South, but formerly they were even more of an institution than thewater cooler or the old-fashioned winter stove. The station-shoutingbrakemen were no more familiar or comforting to weary passengers thanthe 'candy butchers' and their welcome stock."