I am going to punch Race. Why? Well, he calls me Shortstack! When David does, it’s fine, but Race, no. Race is not THAT much taller than me and I'm glad he’s my friend. I’ve gotta go and sell my papes. July 15, 1899, 7:31 a.m.
The strike has officially started! I’m a bit worried about the younger newsies, but Jack says they’ll be okay, and I trust him. Crutchie hasn’t been walking so well the last few days, and I’m worried about him. July 18, 1899, 9:27 a.m.
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Kloppman's Favorite
FanfictionDavid doesn't allow me coffee, Kloppmann gives me coffee. Jack hides my hair ribbons, Kloppmann finds them. Race calls me Kloppmann's favorite, Kloppmann calls me princess. Am I his favorite? I don't know.
