Joshua's Song by Joan Hiatt Harlow

Author:Joan Hiatt Harlow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books

Snowball Fight!

THE SNOW HAD BECOME HEAVY by the time joshua’s last copy of the afternoon paper was sold. At least he didn’t have to go back and divvy up with Charlie. He was cold and wet, and he decided to take the subway from the Common back to the El station.

As he was crossing Tremont Street, Joshua noticed a crowd of well-dressed boys gathered by a lamppost. Their blaring voices sounded familiar. The Beacon Hill Boys! Kids from the academy! His old friends! The boys were pounding snow into an artillery of snowballs.

They’ve come to fight the North End kids, Joshua thought eagerly.

Snowball fights were a tradition on the Hill. The Beacon Hill boys would lie in wait for the North Enders to gather their forces and invade the Common. Joshua now knew why Charlie had a chip on his shoulder. He and the other poor kids from the North End resented the wealthy boys from Beacon Hill who had everything.

Joshua recognized a tall boy in a heavy green jacket and woolen hat “Hey, Frankie!” he yelled. “Can I fight, too?”

The boy stopped and peered into the twilight. “Who are you?” he asked.

“It’s me. Joshua Harper.”

The boys looked at Joshua curiously.

“Hi, Josh,” said Frankie walking closer. “Where’ve you been? Kids say you’ve quit school.” Frankie looked Joshua up and down, his eyes resting on the Boston Traveler bag around Joshua’s shoulders. Joshua had forgotten to tuck it into his pocket. “Are you a newsboy?”

Joshua hastily stuffed the bag in his jacket. “Um . . . I was just doing someone a favor today,” he said. “A kid whose family is sick.”

Some of the other boys had joined Frankie. “You’re a newsboy,” jeered Robert, one of the class big shots. “Joshua’s joined the newsboys!” he yelled to the others.

“Are you going to fight with your Irish pals from the North End?” a boy named Henry taunted.

“I don’t have any pals from the North End,” said Joshua. “What are you talking about?”

“My father saw you hawking papers down on State Street,” said Robert. “Couldn’t believe his eyes. He said your dad would roll over in his grave if he knew what’s become of the famous singer Joshua Harper.”

“Yeah, he’s still singing,” Henry scoffed. “He’s singing out the headlines!”

“Well, at least I’ve got my own business now,” said Joshua.

Henry continued badgering. “Josh is in business—on the street.”

“That’s more than you’ll ever do,” Joshua snapped. “The only jobs you’ll ever get are the ones your fathers get for you. You couldn’t get work anywhere else.”

Henry grabbed a snowball from the pile and hurled it at Joshua.

The hard-packed missile hit Joshua in the face. The icy snow smarted his skin, then slipped down his cheeks.

“How’d you like snow in your face?” Henry laughed. “Or don’t newsboys wash their faces?”

Furious, Joshua pounced on the larger boy, knocking both of them to the ground.

Joshua smacked a fistful of snow in Henry’s face. “How do you like snow in your face!” he yelled.

Henry struggled and punched aimlessly at Joshua, but Joshua sat on his chest and whammed him with more snow.

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