1914 Jan. 2 Noodles Fagan (Part 3)

“In a week made memorable for Hamilton newsboys , there has been no feature which quite equaled the performance given by the newsies themselves at the Lyric last night. From the first to last the youngsters enjoyed themselves to the full, and in proof thereof they cheered to the echo everything and everybody – including themselves.”

Hamilton Spectator.  January 3, 1914¹

Noodles Fagan, sponsored by the Hamilton Spectator, had entertained a huge number of Hamilton newsboys, with members of the families, at the Lyric on the morning of January 1, 1914.

Noodles was a vaudeville performer, as well as the celebrated “King of the Newsies” and he was part of a long list of performers engaged to appear at Hamilton’s Lyric Theatre during the first part of January 1914.

For the bill at the Lyric on January 2, 1914, there was a special addition to the bill.

The Spectator had acquired a large block of tickets in the balcony of the theatre and had invited for the newsboys employed specifically by the Spectator to attend that evening’s entertainment.

The Spectator had called for its newsboys to gather in front of the newspaper’s office on James Street South at 7:30 p.m. but the boys began to arrive there fully an hour before :

“By the time it was half-past seven o’clock, the boys were blocking James street, and making more noise than when Home-run Baker walloped the ball over the fence and won the first game for Connie Mack’s hired men.

“Then ‘King Noodles the First’ – otherwise ‘Noodles’ Fagan, uncrowned king of the newsboys and headliner at the Lyric this week – arrived on the scene and marshalled the boys into some kind of shape. Before a start could be made, however, cheers had to be given for the Spectator and then more cheers for Noodles, their friend, mentor and guide.”¹

¹ “Newsboys’ Funfest as Guests of Spectator : Theatre Rafters Ring With Shouts of Glee : King Noodles Leads Grand Parade to Lyric.”

Hamilton Spectator. January 3, 1914.

It was a scene to remember as 500 newsboys, with King Noddles leading them, paraded down King street to the Mary street theatre. Although quite noisy during the march, the boys entered the theatre, proceeded to the balcony in an orderly fashion, and, for the most part, behaved themselves during the show :

“But it was their night, and they meant to enjoy it to the utmost. Weren’t they there as guests of the Spectator, and wasn’t their friend ‘Noodles’ going to come out on the stage shortly all dressed up like a regular feller? Sure, sure, both times. Well they should smoke an onion – oh! that’s right, Noodles said they musn’t smoke”¹

The newsboys politely applauded the other performers on the bill, although perhaps occasionally at the wrong time, but there was one performer that they were waiting for :

“For Noodles, of course, the boys had a big reception. They joined in the chorus of his songs and laughed gleefully at his sallies. He understands newsboys, Noodles does, having been one himself, and their admiration for him is unbounded. So was their applause, and they almost lifted the roof off with their plaudits at the conclusion of his act.”¹

After the end of the scheduled performances on the bill, there was a special treat – the performance, on stage, of the newsboys themselves :

“For most of them, it was their first appearance as ‘regular actors’ upon any stage, but it takes more than that to frighten a newsboy. Noodles had charge of this part of the program, and at his request the boys swarmed out of the balcony and upon the stage.”¹

Only 100 of the 500 newsboys at the Lyric actually went on stage, but those who didn’t shouted encouragement to those who did, and fully enjoyed what ensued, “ a series of ‘contests’ peculiar to newsies – games which only the inventive genius of quick-witted boys who sell papers for a living could imagine.”¹

With Noodles introducing each game in his usually enthusiastic, humorous way, the newsboys’ portion of the evening began with a boxing match, a boxing match with a difference as both boy combatants stood in wooden barrels.

The next contest involved a line of six boys who were required to eat two crackers each and then attempt to whistle. The contestants were convulsed with giggles and unable to produce any sort of whistling sound with the exception of the littlest chap, not over three feet six inches high, who was able to emit a faint, very faint, whistle. The little guy was declared winner.

The next event was a yelling contest in two sections. First up were boys over fourteen years who were directly in turn to yell at the top of their voices the following “The Hamilton Spectator, all about the big Fire!” :

“The winner of this was a big fellow with a roar which sounded very much like the report of a twelve-inch gun. If at short range he shouted at a prospective customer like that the probabilities are that he would scare a man to death before he could sell a paper.

“There was also a yelling contest for boys under twelve years ago age, in which the palm was awarded to a boy who unwittingly substituted the word ‘suicide’ for ‘fire.’ The laughter which followed sounded very much like a miniature gale and fairly rocked the house.”¹

The next contest involved the consumption of a mixture of bread and water which one boys had to feed another boy by spoon. Another contest involving food consisted of wieners attached to a wooden bar. The boys, with their hands behind their backs had to try and eat one of the wieners. The contest was made more challenging as Noodle gently moved the bar to and fro.”

The last contest was perhaps the funniest of all. A huge pile of white flour, placed in a big container, contained a paper bag filled with prizes. The boys, again holding their hands behind their backs, could only look for the hidden prize by going into the pile face first.

As described by the Spectator reporter who obviously enjoyed this assignment, it was an evening to remember:

“For each of these various games, ‘Noodles’ had a different name, such as monkadoo, spiddo ump. Gluck, wobbling etc., but while the boys cared little what the games were called, it is safe to say that memory of ‘Noodles’ and the carnival provided for them last night will not be forgotten by them in many a day.”¹