Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"The kirre is one of the more vicious animals of the forests and jungles of Athas." It resembles an 8 foot long tiger with 8 clawed legs, a pair of large horns, and a barbed tail. In combat it attacks 7 times: twice with front claws, bite, gore with horns, twice with secondary claws, and stab with tail (1-4/1-4/1-6/1-8/1-4/1-4/1-6). It also has natural psionic abilities, like many creatures of Athas. (AD&D 2nd ed Monstrous Manual, 1993)
Unsigned, but several elements like pose and shading resemble Dave Simons' work. He was credited in this book for "normal animals, almost normal animals, and squishy things." His usual signature is missing throughout the book.
Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man #84 (Mantlo/Simons, Nov 1983). Felicia checks out of the hospital, and the city foots the bill since she helped stop Doc Ock and the Owl. Pete was so anxious, he never thought to ask!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
5,000 STRIKERS SWARM IN AND AROUND NEW IRVING HALL
No More Violence, Their Orators Tell Them, and a Voice Responds, "Oh, Soytenly Not!"—East Side Politicians Catch On and Boom the Strike—It's Broadening Out
The striking newsboys would up a day of hard campaigning in their fight against the evening editions of the World and the Journal with a meeting last night in New Irving Hall, at Broome and Norfolk streets, which was a remarkable gathering. A citizen unused to the ways of the New York newsboy might have thought it was a riot. Kid Blink and his Strike Committee had sent the call for the meeting for the Bronx to the Battery, and from Brooklyn to Jersey City, and the arriving delegations choked Broome street from Essex to Norfolk and drove the neighborhood indoors. By 8 o'clock there were 5,000 boys on the block. Two thousand came from Broooklyn [sic], led by Racetrack Higgins, and carrying with them a huge floral horseshoe, the gift of the Brooklyn Eagle. Jersey City sent a hundred boys, and the rest came mostly from Manhattan and the Bronx.
Five policemen and a roundsman undertook to keep the boys in check until the hall opened, but in fifteen minutes the roundsman had sent for help. Fifteen policemen responded, but they were as helpless as the five had been. It was utterly impossible to handle the boys. They were a shrieking mob, and when the proprietor of the hall refused to open up at 8 because the meeting wasn't to begin until 8:30 o'clock, they charged on the door and smashed it open.
Two thousand managed to get in, and there wasn't an inch of room unoccupied in the hall. The outsiders were good-natured and yelled their approval every time the sounds of applause came to them through the open windows.
Nick Myers of the Mail and Express was Chairman of the meeting, and he struggled for fifteen minutes before he could make himself heard. When the boys quieted down he stated the object of the meeting, and called on Mr. Joe Bernstein, the pugilist, who used to sell papers himself, and Reiss, the yellow-barrel lemonade man of Printing House Square, to keep order. Messrs. Bernstein and Reiss armed themselves with far-reaching switches and took up positions. They had their hands full for the rest of the evening.
The first speaker of the evening was Leonard A. Suitkin, who was introduced as "a lawyer feller what's got a message for us."
Mr. Suitkin stated that he came as the representative of Assemblyman Charley Adler; that Mr. Adler was with the boys heart and soul, and that he sent them his best wishes.
"You've made a firm stand, boys," he said, "and have made a better showing than the motormen either here on in Brooklyn. Hang together and you'll win."
There was a yell of applause, and then—after Bernstein and Reiss had done some switching—Frank B. Wood, who used to send chills up people's backs with his "Well, well, well!" at the Polo Grounds, was introduced.
"Hooray for the strike!" began Mr. Wood in G below. "You boys have been successful so far, and you must stick it out to the end now."
Ex-Assemblyman Phil Wissig, the next speaker, said that he was a newsboy himself in 1860 and that he was heart and soul with the newsboys in their strike.
"What right have these fellows got to hold out 10 cents on you?" he said. "Not a bit, and don't you stand for it. Keep the law, boys, and don't let me hear of you using any dynamite. You can win peacefully. Just try it and see."
A large floral horseshoe came into the hall at this juncture, and Nick Myers announced that a florist had sent it around to be given to the newsboy that made the best speech. There were roars of applause, and in boosting the chances of their favorites about a score of the boys fell to fighting. There was some lively punching among the little fellows, but the larger boys banged a few heads together, and then Dave Simons, the President of the Newsboys' Union, read a set of resolutions. The last paragraph of the resolutions was addressed to the public and read:
"Please don't buy the World or Journal, because we refuse to sell these papers until some satisfactory terms can be reached. The World and the Journal demand arbitration for the striking railroad men, but why don't they arbitrate with the newsboys? If you have any sympathy with us help us to boycott these papers by not reading them. Take out your advertisements; as no one sells these papers no one will be able to see them. * * * You will find all the news in Tʜᴇ Eᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ Sᴜɴ, Telegram and Daily News. They give us a chance to make a living. Buy them and help us, and we will thank you very kindly. We remain yours humbly, Tʜᴇ Nᴇᴡsʙᴏʏs' Uɴɪᴏɴ."
The resolutions were adopted with shouts that could be heard over on the Bowery. When the ardor of the boys had been suppressed by the keepers of the peace Simons continued:
"We're goin' to win this fight, boys, only we must stick together and hold firm. The Journal and World has got the money, but we got the situation in our hands, and they know it. Now, I'm goin' to ask you not to use no more violence. Let up on the scabs."
"Oh, soytenly," came a voice from the rear of the hall.
"Now, I mean it," continued Simons. "We can't gain nothing by banging these fellers around. Let's fight on the level, and see if we can't win out that way."
"Who's been a-talkin' to yer like that, Dave?" inquired a shock-headed boy about 11 years old.
"It goes, Shorty," replied the speaker, "an' you kids are to remember it, see?"
Shorty and the kids around him had a great laugh over the "no-violence" attitude of the leaders, and became orderly again only when they were threatened with instant expulsion. Warhorse Brennan, who has been selling papers at West Broadway and Chambers street for twenty years, and Jack Tietjen, who has a stand at Church street and Park place, reported that the strike was going on finely in their localities, and that the scabs were getting it in the neck.
Bob the Indian, whose surname is Stone, then rose to make a few remarks. Bob's friends greeted him effusively.
"Whatcher goin' ter say, Bob?" queried one, and other remarks hurled at him were:
"Speak up, Bob." "Hello, cigar sign." "Don't take no bluffs, Bob, but say what yer wanter."
"I'm here for union and nothin' else," said Bob. "I want this strike kept agoin' until we get these fellers what's chokin' us down. Say, what d'yer think Hearst says to-day? He says he can't afford to sell two fer a cent. Now did yer ever? Say, he says he might cave if the World would give in, but he can't sink first. Honest, ain't that sickening? Now, I'm to tell yer that yer not to soak the drivers any more."
"Oh, no! soytenly not!" from the rear ranks.
"No, you're not to soak 'em. We're a-goin' to try to square this thing without violence; so keep cool. I think we'll win in a walk--on the level I do."
"Mr. Kid Blink, our master workman, will now address the meeting," announced the Chairman. Kid Blink buttoned his shirt, brushed back his hair and walked forward, to be greeted by a storm of applause and a thousand friendly remarks.
"Yer know me, boys!" began the Kid, and there were cries of "yer bet we do." "Well, I'm here to say if we are goin' to win this strike we must stick like glue and never give in. Am I right?" [Cries of "Yes! yes!"]
"Ain't that 10 cents worth as much to us as it is to Hearst and Pulitzer, who are millionaires? Well, I guess it is. If they can't spare it, how can we?"
"Soak 'em, Blink," yelled an enthusiast.
"Soak nothin'," remarked the Kid. "I'm tellin' the truth. I'm tryin' to figure how 10 cents on a hundred papers can mean more to a millionaire than it does to a newsboy, an' I can't see it. Now, boys, I'm goin' ter say like the rest: No more violence. Let up on the drivers. No more rackets like that one the other night where a Journal and a World wagon was turned over in Madison street. Say, to tell the truth, I was there myself."
"You bet yer was, Blink, an' a-leadin', too," came a voice.
"Well, never mind, we're goin' to let up on the scabs now and win the strike on the square. Kid Blink's a talkin' to yer now. Do yer know him? We won in 1893 and will win in 1899, but stick together like plaster."
"Boys, the next speaker is one of our old friends," said the Chairman. "I won't introduce him, because you all know Crazy Aborn."
Crazy Aborn related an incident of the day. He said he had run across two tramps hired by the World at $2 a day to sell papers. They were hiding their papers in a dark hallway, he said, and looked so ashamed when he came up that he really felt sorry for them. They both promised not to take papers out again, and showed that they meant it by tearing up the papers they had.
Mr. Fitzgibbons, a delegate from the Tenderloin, was introduced, and was about to begin an eloquent address when there was a tumult in the back of the room. The commotion kept increasing, and those on the platform couldn't understand it until a shrill young voice yelled:
"Hey, Annie! Hey, Annie! Hooray for Annie!"
Annie's arrival was really the event of the evening. Outside the hall and inside the boys cheered her, and it wasn't until she went up on the platform and bowed three times that the boys consented to allow Mr. Fitzgibbons to resume. The Tenderloin delegate reported all well up his way, and wound up by saying:
"But you all know what you're up against, and there ain't no use my knocking the realization of it into your nuts."
Mr. Fitzgibbons say down and there were yells for a speech from Annie. Annie blushed and shook her head, but the Chairman went ahead, and after a glowing introduction, in the course of which he referred to the next speaker as the brick of all women and the most faithful of the strikers, called on Annie for a speech. Annie was really rattled. She had to be poked with the gavel before she'd get up, and then she only said:
"Well, boys, you know I'm with yer through thick and thin. Stick together and we'll win."
Annie sat down again and it was several minutes before the applause subsided. Racetrack Higgins of Brooklyn was then called upon.
"There's 2,000 of us here from Brooklyn tonight," he said, "but I think most of the gang got shut out. Never mind, though; we're with the New York boys and we're going to stick with them to the end. We took up a collection last night and got enough money to hire a band to lead us over here. I went up to Chief Devery to-day to get a permit, and what dy'er think he said? He says: 'Git out, yer slobs.' I told him we wasn't slobs, but honest boys trying to make an honest living, but he wouldn't give up the permit, so we had to leave the band home. I can only say to you, boys, to stand firm, and I bet we'll win before Dewey comes home. Say, we struck six of those $2-a-day World and Journal fellers in front of Dennett's in Brooklyn this afternoon—you know Sinker Dennett's place—and we shamed them into giving up their jobs. They took their Journals back to Sloman and their Worlds back to Barber Clark and said they wasn't going to help any paper do up a lot of boys. Now, wasn't that square? [Applause.] I think we'll win this fight all right. I ain't made 20 cents this week, but I can stand a heap of that and so can all the Brooklyn boys. Don't you touch Worlds or Journals until they give us a decent deal. We're putting them out of business fast and they know it."
Hungry Joe Kernan, the newsboy mascot, sang a pathetic song about a one-legged newsboy, and then Mickey Myers and one of two others made brief speeches. Then the boys left the hall, yelling like demons, and spent the rest of the evening celebrating the successful strike and their great meeting.
The boys regard yesterday as the most successful day they have had since the strike began, because the boycotted papers went to the expense of paying men $2 a day to sell papers, only to have 75 per cent. of the men quit before they had sold a single paper. The boys had little trouble persuading the Boweryites to join them. The few dozen that remained loyal to their employers sold few papers, and the strikers think the enemy will soon tire of waging this kind of a warfare against them.
The Arbitration Committee, which was to meet Mr. Hearst yesterday to get his answer to the proposition that he reduce the Evening Journals from 60 to 50 cents a hundred, went to the Journal office in the afternoon, but say they were "chased out" and that the editor refused to see them. They got no answer, and so decided to keep up the fight and make no more advances to the Journal folks.
The parade that was planned for yesterday morning had to be given up because Chief Devery refused to issue a permit to the boys. Two World drivers and one Journal driver quit work yesterday, according to the strike leaders, because they didn't care to combat the boys any longer.
William Reese, a negro, was arrested while distributing circulars for the striking newsboys at Third avenue and Forty-second street yesterday. The negro had a bundle of the circulars under his arm and was handing them to passersby. An agent of the World called upon Policeman Phelan to arrest Reese.
"What for?" asked the policeman.
"Why, don't you see what he's doing?" rejoined the World man. "They're advertisements about the World advising people not to buy the paper. The office sent me out to have any one giving out such things arrested."
The policeman haled the negro to the Yorkville Police Court, and there the World man wanted to make a charge of conspiracy against the prisoner. The policeman finally made a charge of violating a corporation ordinance. Reese said he was a newsboy and distributed the circulars to help along the other boys who were on strike. He did not think he was breaking any law. Magistrate Zeller warned him not to do it again and discharged him.
About noon 300 of the striking newsboys swooped down on five men who were selling the forbidden papers at 125th street and Third avenue. The boys seized the papers and tore them up, filling the streets with the fragments. They chased the men into trolley cars and to the platforms of the elevated roads. At 125th street and Eighth avenue they chased away six men and destroyed their stock. They found eight men at 116th street and Eighth avenue, tore their papers and chased them off the corner. One of the boys, Edward Rowland, was arrested.
Mikki Fischler, 12 years old, and a crowd of other boys were casually clubbing some non-union boys who were selling the boycotted papers at Fifth avenue and Twenty-third street. A policeman caught Mikki and Magistrate Crane fined him $1. Mikki paid the dollar and retired weeping. John Falk, a negro newsboy, was caught belaboring with a club two men who were selling the papers on the Rialto. Magistrate Crane fined him $3.
One of a crowd of parading newsboys jumped on a Third avenue car at Fifth street and snatched a paper from the hand of an old man. The old man grabbed the boy. The boy explained. The old man apologized and contributed a dime to the strike fund.
A crowd of several hundred striking newsboys and their sympathizers discovered two piles of Worlds and Journals on a newsstand at the northeast corner of Second avenue and Forty-second street yesterday afternoon. They charged on the stand, tipped it over, grabbed the papers and had reduced them to strips before the newsdealer knew it. They they went parading through the streets, yelling in triumph and threatening to do up anybody they found either selling or buying Worlds and Journals. Policeman Zuck of the East Fifty-first street station attempted to disperse the boys. They attacked Zuck, hurling sticks, stones and old cans at him. Zuck stood it as long as he could and then retired to a nearby store. Among the things hurled at him was a bar of iron six inches long.
The Staten Island newsboys refused yesterday to buy the boycotted papers, and in Tompkinsville, Stapleton and Clifton they held up the newspaper delivery wagons, pelted the drivers and discouraged would-be customers.
