News writing
by M. Lyle Spencer · English · Gutenberg #30765 · 782,186 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of News writing
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: News writing
The gathering , handling and writing of news stories
Author: M. Lyle Spencer
Release date: December 26, 2009 [eBook #30765]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30765
Credits: Produced by Audrey Longhurst and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NEWS WRITING ***
Produced by Audrey Longhurst and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)
NEWS WRITING
THE GATHERING, HANDLING
AND WRITING OF NEWS STORIES
BY
M. LYLE SPENCER, PH.D.
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, LAWRENCE COLLEGE
ON THE STAFF OF "THE MILWAUKEE JOURNAL"
D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT, 1917,
BY D. C. HEATH & CO.
TO
THOMAS B. REID
DEAN OF THE WISCONSIN NEWSPAPER MEN
PREFACE
The first week of a reporter's work is generally the most nerve-racking
of his journalistic experience. Unacquainted with his associates,
ignorant of his duties, embarrassed because of his ignorance, he wastes
more time in useless effort, dissipates more energy in worry, and grows
more despondent over his work and his career than during any month of
his later years. Yet most of his depression would be unnecessary if he
knew his duties.
To acquaint the prospective reporter with these duties and their proper
performance is the purpose of this volume, which has been written as a
practical guide for beginners in news writing. Its dominating purpose is
practicalness. If it fails in this, its main purpose will be lost.
Because of this practical aim the attempt has been made to approach the
work of the reporter as he will meet it on beginning his first morning's
duties in the news office. After an introductory division explaining the
organization of a newspaper and acquainting the beginner with his
fellows and superiors in the editorial rooms, the book opens with an
exposition of news. It then takes up sources of news, methods of getting
stories, and the preparation of copy for the city desk.
In discussing the writing of the story, it has seemed necessary to
devote much attention to the lead, experience showing that the point of
greatest difficulty in handling a story lies in the choice of a proper
and effectively worded lead. Likewise, it has been necessary to discuss
the sentence at great length and to touch the paragraph only lightly,
because the one is so much a matter of individual judgment, the other
subject to such definite laws,--laws of which, however, most cub
reporters are grossly ignorant. In some classes in news writing the
instructor will find it possible and advisable to pass hastily over the
chapter on The Sentence, but as a rule he will find a careful study of
it profitable. In Part III, that dealing with types of stories, emphasis
has been laid on interview, crime, and sports stories, because it is
these that the cub reporter must be most familiar with on taking up his
work in the newspaper office. For the same practical reasons the volume
omits editorial and copy reading, and makes no attempt to teach the
beginner to be a dramatic critic or a city editor. It aims to give him
only those details and that instruction which shall make him a
competent, reliable reporter for the city editor who first employs his
services.
The book is written also with the belief, based on practical experience,
that news writing as a craft can be taught. It is not contended that
schools can produce star reporters. The newspaper office is the only
place where they can be developed. But it is maintained that the college
can send to the city room men and women who have been guided beyond the
discouraging defeats of mere cub reporting, just as schools of law,
medicine, and commerce can graduate lawyers, doctors, and business men
who know the rudiments of their professions. And this contention is
based on experience. During the last four years the studies here offered
have been followed closely in the class room, from which students have
been graduated who are now holding positions of first rank on leading
American dailies. Some too, though not all, had had no previous
experience in newspaper work.
All the illustrations and exercises except two are taken from published
news articles, most of the stories being unchanged. In some, however,
fictitious names and addresses, for obvious reasons, have been
substituted.
For aid in the preparation of this volume my thanks are due to Mr. C. O.
Skinrood of _The Milwaukee Journal_, Mr. Warren B. Bullock of _The
Milwaukee Sentinel_, and Mr. Paul F. Hunter of _The Sheboygan Press_,
who have made numerous criticisms upon the book during its different
stages. Their suggestions have been invaluable. For permission to
reprint stories from their columns my thanks also are due to the
_Appleton Post_, _Atlanta Constitution_, _Boston Transcript_, _Chicago
American_, _Chicago Herald_, _Chicago Tribune_, _Des Moines Register_,
_Indianapolis News_, _Kansas City Star_, _Los Angeles Times_, _Milwaukee
Journal_, _Milwaukee Sentinel_, _Minneapolis Tribune_, _New York
Herald_, _New York Sun_, _New York Times_, _New York Tribune_, _New York
World_, _Omaha News_, _Philadelphia Public Ledger_, and the _Washington
Post_.
M. L. S
APPLETON, WISCONSIN
_March 12, 1917_
CONTENTS
PART I
ORGANIZATION OF THE PAPER
I. INTRODUCTION 3
II. THE EDITORIAL ROOMS 5
III. THE MECHANICAL DEPARTMENT 13
IV. THE BUSINESS DEPARTMENT 20
PART II
THE NEWS STORY
V. WHAT NEWS IS 25
VI. NEWS SOURCES 34
VII. GETTING THE STORY 42
VIII. ORGANIZATION OF THE STORY 57
IX. THE LEAD 68
X. THE BODY OF THE STORY 84
XI. THE PARAGRAPH 97
XII. THE SENTENCE 99
XIII. WORDS 116
PART III
TYPES OF STORIES
XIV. INTERVIEWS, SPEECHES, COURTS 125
XV. ACCIDENT, CRIME 149
XVI. SPORTS 164
XVII. SOCIETY 199
XVIII. FOLLOW-UPS, REWRITES 212
XIX. FEATURE STORIES 224
XX. CORRESPONDENCE STORIES 235
APPENDIX
STYLE BOOK 249
MARKS USED IN CORRECTING COPY 273
CORRECTED COPY 275
SPECIMEN PROOF 276
TERMINOLOGY 278
EXERCISES 285
INDEX 353
PART I
ORGANIZATION OF THE PAPER
NEWS WRITING
ORGANIZATION OF THE PAPER
I. INTRODUCTION
=1. The City Room.=--The city room is the place where a reporter
presents himself for work the first day. It is impossible to give an
exact description of this room, because no two editorial offices are
ever alike. If the reporter has allied himself with a country weekly, he
may find the city room and the business office in one, with the owner of
the paper and himself as the sole dependence for village news. If he has
obtained work on a small daily, he may find a diminutive office, perhaps
twelve by fifteen feet, with the city editor the only other reporter. If
he has been employed by a metropolitan journal, he will probably find
one large room and several smaller adjoining offices, and an editorial
force of twenty to thirty or forty helpers, depending upon the size of
the paper.
=2. Metropolitan Papers.=--The metropolitan paper, of course, is the
most complex in organization, and is therefore the one for a beginner to
examine. The chances are two to one that the cub will have to begin on a
so-called country daily, but if he knows the organization of a large
paper, he will experience little trouble in learning the less
complicated system of a small one. For this reason the reader is given
in Part I an explanation of the organization of a representative
metropolitan newspaper.
=3. All Papers Different.=--The reader is cautioned, however, against
taking this exposition as an explanation of anything more than a typical
newspaper. The details of organization of various papers will be found
to differ somewhat. The number of editors and their precise duties will
vary. One journal will be a morning, another an afternoon, paper; a
third will be a twenty-four-hour daily, employing a double shift of men
and having one city editor with day and night assistants. One paper will
have a universal copy desk with a single copy editor handling all
departments. Another will have, instead of a state editor, a section
editor, a man who handles all special matter not carried by the press
service from possibly half a dozen states. Thus the organizations vary
in certain minor details, sometimes materially so; but, on the whole,
one general system will prevail. And it is to give the student an
understanding of a typical newspaper plant that Part I is written.
II. THE EDITORIAL ROOMS
=4. Beginning Work.=--As stated in the preceding chapter, the place at
which the reporter presents himself for work the first day is the city
room. Before coming, he will have seen the city editor and received
instructions as to the time. If the office is that of a morning paper,
he will probably be required to come some time between noon and six P.M.
If it is that of an afternoon paper, he will be asked to report at six
or seven A.M. Let us suppose it is a metropolitan afternoon journal and
that he is requested to be in the office at seven, the hour when the
city editor appears. The ambitious reporter will always be in his place
not later than 6:45, so that he may see the city editor enter.
=5. Copy Readers.=--When a reporter appears on his first morning, he
will find a big, desk-crowded room, deserted except for two or three
silent workers reading and clipping papers at a long table. These men
are known variously as the gas-house gang, the lobster shift, the
morning stars, etc. They are the reporters and copy readers who read the
morning papers for stories that may be rewritten or followed up for
publication during the day. They have been on duty since two or three in
the morning and have prepared most of the material for the bull-dog
edition, the morning issue printed some time between 7:00 and 10:00 A.M.
and mainly rewritten from the morning papers. On the entrance of the new
reporter they will look up, direct him to a chair where he may sit until
the city editor comes, and pay no more attention to him. They, or others
who take their places, edit all the news stories. They correct spelling
and punctuation, rewrite a story when the reporter has missed the main
feature, reconstruct the lead, cut out contradictions, duplications, and
libelous statements, and in general make the article conform to the
length and style demanded by the paper; and having carefully revised the
story, they write the headlines and chute it to the composing room. On
the whole, these men are the most unpopular on the force, since they are
subject to double criticism, from the editors above them and the
reporters whose copy they correct. The city editor and the managing
editor hold them responsible for poor headlines, libelous statements,
involved sentences, and errors generally; the reporters blame them for
pruning down their stories, changing leads, and often destroying what
they regard as the very point of what they had to say.
=6. Other Reporters.=--As the new reporter waits by the city editor's
desk, he will notice the arrival of the other members of the staff, who
immediately begin their work for the day. One of these is the labor
reporter. His business is to obtain and write news relating to labor and
unions. Another is the marine reporter. He handles all news relating to
shipping, clearing and docking of vessels, etc. Another reporter handles
all stories coming from the police court. Another watches the morgue and
the hospitals. Another, usually a woman, obtains society news. Still
another visits the hotels. And so the division of reporters continues
until all the sources of news have been parceled out.
=7. The City Editor.=--Then the city editor enters. If the reporter
wishes to make good, let him love the law of the city editor. He is the
man to whom all the reporters and some of the copy readers are
responsible, and who in turn is responsible to the managing editor for
the gathering and preparation of city news. He must know where news can
be found, direct the getting of news, and see that it is put into the
paper properly. When news is abundant, he must decide which stories
shall be discarded, and on those rarer occasions when all the
world--the good and the bad--seems to have gone to sleep, he must know
how to make news. Every story written in the city room is first passed
on by the city editor, who turns it over to the copy readers for
correction. Even the length of each story is determined by him, and
often the nature of it, whether it shall be humorous, pathetic, tragic,
or mysterious. To his desires and idiosyncrasies the reporter must learn
quickly to adapt himself. Sometimes the city editor may err. Sometimes,
during his absence, he may put in authority eccentric substitutes,
smaller men who issue arbitrary commands and require stories entirely
different in style and character from what is regularly required. But
the cub's first lesson must be in adaptability, willingness to obey
orders and to accept news policies determined by those in authority. He
must therefore follow to the letter the wishes of the city editor (or
his assistants) and must always be loyal to him and his plans.[1]
[1] For an admirable exposition of the way in which the city
editor handles his men and big stories, the student is
advised to read two excellent articles by Alex. McD.
Stoddart: "When a Gaynor is Shot," _Independent_, August
25, 1910, and "Telling the Tale of the Titanic,"
_Independent_, May 2, 1912.
=8. The News Editor.=--As a reporter's acquaintance grows, he will come
to know other editors in the city room,--the news, telegraph, state,
market, sporting, literary, dramatic, and other editors. Of these the
news editor, sometimes known also as the make-up or the assistant
managing editor, is most important. He handles all the telegraph and
cable copy and much of what is sent in by mail. He decides what position
the stories shall take in the paper, which articles shall have big heads
and which little ones, which shall be thrown out, and in general
determines the make-up of the pages. The news editor is always a bright
man of wide knowledge, thoroughly conversant with state and national
social and political movements, and more or less intimately acquainted
with all sections of the United States.
=9. Telegraph Editor.=--Next to the news editor, and usually his chief
assistant, is the telegraph editor. On some papers the two positions are
combined. This man handles all telegraph copy from without the state,
including that of the press bureaus and special correspondents in
important American and European cities. Frequently in the largest news
offices there are as many as a dozen telegraph operators who take his
stories over direct wires. Like the news editor, he must be a man of
wide acquaintance in order to know the value of a story from a distant
section of the United States or the world. Since the outbreak of the
European war, his has been an unusually responsible position because of
the immense amount of war news and the necessity of knowing the exact
importance of the capture of a certain city or the fall of a fort.
=10. State Editor.=--Next comes the state editor, who is responsible for
all the state news and helps with the telegraph copy and local news when
it becomes too bulky for the other copy readers to handle. The state
editor manages the correspondents throughout the state and is
particularly valuable when his paper is in the capital city or the
metropolis of the state. Most of his copy comes by mail or long-distance
telephone from correspondents residing or traveling in the state. Nearly
all this copy needs editing, coming as it does largely from
correspondents on country dailies and weeklies. In addition to editing
stories sent in by correspondents, the state editor keeps a space book,
from which he makes to the cashier in the business office a weekly or
monthly report of the amount of material contributed by each
correspondent.
=11. Sporting Editor.=--Unless given a place in the sporting department,
the reporter will not soon meet the sporting editor, who, with his
assistants, is usually honored with a room to himself and is independent
of the city editor. But some day, by accident perhaps, the cub will get
a peep through a door across the hallway into a veritable den. That is
the sporting room. The four walls are covered with cuts of Willard,
Gotch, Johnston, Matthewson, Travers, Hoppe, and dozens of other
celebrities in the realm of sports. There the sporting editor--often a
man who has been prominent in college athletics--reigns. Because of the
intense interest in sports he must publish the news of his department
promptly, and in consequence he often is privileged to make expenditures
more freely than other editors. The sporting editor of a big daily must
be an authority in athletic matters and should be able to decide on the
instant, without looking up the book of regulations, any question
relating to athletic rules or records.
=12. Exchange Editor.=--Another editor, who usually will be discovered
in a room by himself, is the exchange editor. He will be found all but
buried in piles of exchanges, now and then clipping a story not covered
on the wires, an editorial, a criticism of his own paper, or a comment
of any kind that may be worth copying or following up. He must know
thoroughly the bias of his paper, to know what to clip and publish.
Favorable references to his paper he reprints. Criticisms he refers to
the managing editor, who reads them and throws them into the waste
basket, or else keeps them for a reply in a later issue. Most of the
jokes, anecdotes of famous men and women, stories of minor inventions
and discoveries, and timely articles relating to current events,
fashions, beliefs, etc., published on the editorial page and in the
feature sections of the Sunday issue, are the result of the exchange
editor's long hours of patient reading of newspapers mailed from every
section of the United States.
=13. The Morgue.=--One of the chief duties of many exchange editors is
to supply the morgue with material for its files. The morgue, sometimes
called the library, is an important adjunct of every newspaper office.
In it are kept, perhaps ready for printing, obituaries of well-known
men, stories of their rise to prominence, pictures of them and their
families, accounts of great discoveries, inventions, and disasters, and
facts on every conceivable newspaper topic,--all ready for hasty
reference or use. If the President of the United States were to drop
dead from apoplexy, the papers would have on the streets in a quarter of
an hour's time columns of stories giving his whole career. When the
steamer _Eastland_ turned over in the Chicago River, causing the death
of 900 persons, the papers published in their regular editions boxed
summaries of all previous ship disasters. When Willard knocked out
Johnson at Havana, reviews of Willard's and Johnson's ring careers were
printed in numerous dailies. All such stories are procured from the
morgue, from files supplied mainly by the exchange editor. In some of
the larger offices, however, these files are maintained independently of
the exchange editor, and are under the charge of the librarian and a
staff of assistants who keep catalogued lists of all maps, cuts,
photographs, and clippings. On a moment's notice these may be obtained
for use in the paper.
=14. Other Editors.=--Other editors, who may be passed with brief
mention because of their minor importance in this volume, are the
market, dramatic, literary, and society editors, and the editorial
writers. The market editor handles all matters of a financial nature.
Sometimes on the largest dailies there are both a market and a financial
editor, but usually the work is combined under a single man whose duties
are to keep in close touch with markets, banks, manufactories, and large
mercantile companies, and to write up simply and accurately from day to
day the financial condition of the city and the country. The duty of the
literary editor is often little more than book reviewing. Frequently he
does not have an office in the building, and on small papers his only
remuneration is the gift of the book he reviews. The society editor, in
addition to reporting notes of the social world, generally handles
fashion stories, answers letters regarding etiquette, love, and
marriage, and edits all material for the woman's page. The work of the
editorial writers is explained by their name. They quit work at all
sorts of hours, take two hours off for lunch, and are known in the city
room as "highbrows." But many an editorial writer who comes to work at
nine in the morning has worked very late the night before, searching for
facts utilized in a half-column of editorial matter.
=15. Cartoonists and Photographers.=--The business of the cartoonist is
to draw one cartoon a day upon some timely civic or political subject.
He is responsible to the managing editor. Under him are other
cartoonists who illustrate individual stories or do cartoon work for
special departments of the paper. The sporting editor has one such man,
and the city editor has one or two. Finally, there are the
photographers, subject to the city editor, who rush hither and thither
to all parts of the city and state, taking scenes valuable for cuts.
=16. The Managing Editor.=--The men whose work we have been discussing
thus far are those whom the reporter meets in his daily work. Above all
these is an executive officer whom the cub reporter rarely sees,--the
managing editor, who has general supervision over all the news and
editorial departments of the paper. He does little writing or editing
himself, his time being taken up with administrative duties. All unusual
expenditures are submitted for his approval. The size and make-up of the
paper, which varies greatly from day to day on the large dailies, is a
matter for his final decision. The cartoonist submits to him rough
drafts of contemplated drawings. The city, telegraph, and news editors
confer with him about getting important stories. The Sunday editor
consults with him with regard to special features. To him is submitted a
proof of every story, which he reads for possible libel and for general
effectiveness. Now and then he returns a story to the city editor to be
lengthened or to be pruned down. Occasionally he may kill an article.
Always he is working at top speed, from the time he gets to his office
at 8:00 A.M., or 2:00 P.M., until he sits down to compare his paper with
the first edition of rival publications. For the managing editor
scrutinizes with minute care every daily in the city, and when he finds
anything to his paper's discredit, he begins an immediate investigation
to learn how the slip happened and who was responsible.
=17. Editor-in-Chief.=--Above the managing editor is the
editor-in-chief, often the owner of the paper. Of him the sub-editors
say that his chief business is playing golf and smoking fat cigars. As a
matter of fact, his duties are at once the most and the least exacting
of any on the paper. He is either the owner or the personal
representative of the owner, who looks to him for the execution of his
policies. But since such policies necessarily must be subject to the
most liberal interpretation, the final responsibility of the editorial
rooms falls on the shoulders of the editor-in-chief. To make known the
plans of the paper, the editor-in-chief holds with the editorial
writers, the managing editor, and the city editor weekly, sometimes
daily, meetings, at which are discussed all matters of doubt or
dissatisfaction relating to the editorial rooms.
=18. Conclusion.=--In conclusion, then, we have the editor-in-chief, who
is responsible for the general policies of the paper. Immediately
beneath him is the managing editor, who executes the editor-in-chief's
orders. Responsible to the editor-in-chief or the managing editor are
the editorial writers, the news, city, sporting, exchange, literary, and
dramatic editors, and the cartoonist. Beneath the city editor are a few
of the copy readers and all the reporters. Such is the organization of
the editorial staff of a typical metropolitan newspaper.
III. THE MECHANICAL DEPARTMENT
=19. Division.=--Beyond the editorial rooms is the mechanical
department, with which every reporter should be, but rarely ever is,
acquainted. Because of the heavy machinery necessary for preparing and
printing a paper, the mechanical department is often found in the
basement. This department is divisible into three sub-departments, the
composing room, the stereotyping room, and the press room.
=20. The Copy Cutter.=--When a story has been revised by the copy reader
and given proper headlines, it is turned over to the head copy reader or
the news editor, who glances over it hastily to see that all is rightly
done and chutes it in a pneumatic tube to the basket on the copy
cutter's table or desk in the composing room. The copy cutter in turn
glances at the headlines and the two or three pages of copy, and records
the story upon a ruled blank on his desk. Then he clips the headlines
and sends them by a copy distributor to the headline machine to be set
up. The two or three pages of copy he cuts into three or four or five
"takes," puts the slug number or name on each, and sends the "takes" to
different compositors, so that the whole story may be set up more
quickly than if it were given all to one man. If the time before going
to press is very short, the pages may be cut into more takes. The slug
names, sometimes called guide or catch lines, are marked on each take to
enable the bank-men to assemble readily all the parts after they have
been set in type.
=21. The Linotype Machine.=--Each compositor on receiving his take
places it on the copy-holder of his linotype or monotype machine and
begins composing it into type. The linotype machine consists of a
keyboard not unlike that of the typewriter, which actuates a magazine
containing matrices or countersunk letter molds, together with a casting
mechanism for producing lines or bars of words. By touching the keys,
the compositor releases letter by letter an entire line of matrices,
which are mustered automatically into the assembling-stick at the left
and above the keyboard, ready to be molded into a line of type. When the
assembling-stick is full of matrices, enough to make a full line, the
operator is warned, as on the typewriter, by the ringing of a tiny bell.
The machinist then pulls a lever, which releases molten lead on the line
of matrices and casts a slug of metal representing the letters he has
just touched on the keys. The machine cuts and trims this slug of lead
to an exact size, conveys it to the receiving galley for finished lines,
and returns the matrices to their proper places in the magazine for use
in a succeeding line. When the operator has composed twenty or
twenty-five of these slugs, his take is completed. He then removes the
slugs from their holder, wraps them in the manuscript, and sends them to
the bank to be assembled with the other takes of the same story. The
proof of the compositor's take looks something like the matter at the
top of the next page.
The big _three's_ are the compositor's slug number. This take was set up
by the workman operating machine number 3. The _Loops_ is the catch
line, or slug name, by which the story is known, every take of the story
being named _Loops_, so that the bank-men may easily get the parts of
the story together. The letters at the right of _Loops_, in the same
line, are merely any letters that the compositor has set up at random by
tapping the linotype keys to fill out the line.
----------------------------------------
THREE THREE
----------------------------------------
LOOPS... ... ... ...) rna..8an........
ARMY BIRDMEN BREAK
RECORDS FOR LOOPS
San Diego, Cal., Sept. 25.--Sergt. William Ocher and Corporal
Albert Smith, attached to the United States army aviation corps
at North Island, made fifteen loops each while engaged in
flights, shattering army and navy aviation records. Both
officers used the same machine equipped with a ninety horsepower
motor, and designed for long distance flying.
This take, which was picked up at random in the editorial rooms of the
_Milwaukee Journal_, was followed by this:
----------------------------------------
SEVEN SEVEN
----------------------------------------
Folo Loops........................ETAOIN
FALLS 1,000 FEET, UNHURT.
Omaha, Sept. 25.--Francis Hoover, Chicago aviator, fell 1,000
feet at David City, Neb. He alighted in a big tank and was not
injured.
The compositor in this case was at machine number 7, and the slug name
given the story was _Folo Loops_: that is, it was a follow story, to
come after the one slugged _Loops_.
=22. The Proofs.=--On receipt of the different takes by the bank-man,
the various parts of the story are assembled, with the proper head, in a
long brass receptacle called a galley, and the first, or galley, proof
is "pulled" on the proof press, a small hand machine. Three proofs are
made. One goes to the managing editor, on whom rests responsibility for
every story in the paper; one to the news editor; and one, with the
original copy, to the head proofreader, who is responsible for all
typographical errors. The head proofreader in turn gives the proof to an
assistant and the manuscript to a copyholder, who reads the story to the
assistant for the detection of typographical errors. A corrected galley
proof will be returned in the form shown in the specimen proof sheet
printed on page 276.
=23. The Form.=--After all corrections have been made and the position
of the story in the paper has been determined by the news editor, it is
inserted in its proper place among other articles which together make up
a page of type, or what printers know as a form. This form is locked in
an enveloping steel frame, called a chase, and carried to the
stereotyping room, the second department in the mechanical composition
of the paper. In the small newspaper offices, the sheet is printed
directly from the form. But since the leaden letters begin to blur after
15,000 impressions have been made, and since it has been found
impossible to do fast printing from flat surfaces, it is necessary for
the larger papers to cast from four to twelve stereotyped plates of each
page.
=24. Stereotyping Process.=--These stereotyped plates are circular or
semicircular in shape, so that they fit snugly on the press cylinders.
They are made in the following way: When the form is brought into the
stereotyping room, it is placed, face up, on the flat bed of a strongly
built press. Over the face of the columns of type are spread several
layers of tissue paper pasted together. Upon the paper is laid a damp
blanket, and a heavy revolving steel drum subjects the whole to hundreds
of pounds of pressure, thus squeezing the face of the type into the
texture of the moist paper. Intense heat is then applied by a steam
drier, so that within a few seconds the moisture has been baked entirely
from the paper, which emerges a stiff flat matrix of the type in the
form.
=25. The Autoplate.=--This matrix in turn is bent to the shape of the
impressing cylinder that later stamps the page, and is put into an
autoplate, or casting machine, which presses molten metal upon the paper
matrix, cools the metal, and turns out in a few moments the finished,
cylindrical plates ready to be put on the press for printing. Duplicates
follow at intervals of from fifteen to twenty seconds, so that several
impressions of the same page may be made at once in the press room and
the whole paper printed more quickly than if a single impression of a
page were made at one time.
=26. The Press Room.=--The press room, the third and final stage in the
mechanical composition of the paper, is where the printing is done on
highly complicated machines. The larger the number of pages of the paper
printed, the more complicated the presses, the marvel of them being
their adaptability to running full, or half, or third capacity,
according to the needed output, or to printing a double or triple number
of small sized papers in a third or half the usually required time. The
large presses of the great dailies print, fold, cut, paste, and count,
according to the size of the sheet, 50,000 to 125,000 papers an hour. A
double sextuple press has a limit of 144,000 twelve-page papers an hour.
=27. The Printing Press.=--It is on the cylinders of these presses that
the circular stereotyped plates are fitted, two plates filling nicely
the round of the cylinder. All the plates for the inside pages of the
paper are stereotyped and screwed on their cylinders a half-hour or more
before press time, the pages with the latest news being held until the
last possible moment. Usually the last page to come is the title page,
and as soon as the last locking lever has been clamped, the wheels of
the big press begin to turn. As the cylinders with their plates revolve,
raised letters on the surface of the plate come in contact, first with
the inked rollers, then with the paper, which is spun from large rolls
and drawn through the press, obtaining as it goes the impression of the
pages of type. As the printed ribbon of paper issues from beneath the
cylinders, it is cut into pages, folded, and counted, ready for the
circulation department. The whole period of time elapsing between the
chute of the last story from the city room and the delivery of the
printed pages to the newsboys will not have exceeded ten minutes.
=28. Speed in Printing.=--Even this brief time is materially cut when
great stories break. The result of the Willard-Johnson fight in 1915 and
all the details up to the last few rounds were cried on the streets of
New York within two minutes after Johnson had been knocked out in
Havana. This was made possible by means of the "fudge," a device
especially designed for late news. This is a small printing cylinder,
upon which is fitted a diminutive curved chase capable of holding a few
linotype slugs. When the fudge is used, a stereotyped front page of the
paper is ripped open and a prominent blank space left, so that if the
press were to print now, the paper would appear with a large unprinted
space on its front page. To this blank space, however, the fudge is
keyed, so that as the web of paper passes the main cylinder, the little
emergency cylinder makes its impression and the page appears to all
appearances printed from a single cylinder.
=29. Speed Devices.=--The value of the fudge, of course, is that, by
printing directly from the linotype slugs, it saves the time expended in
stereotyping. Its speed, too, is increased by reason of the fact that
every great newspaper has in the press room near the fudge a composing
machine to which a special telegraph wire is run, and a special operator
to read the news direct from the wire to the compositor. This enables
the papers to meet the baseball crowd on its way home with extras giving
full details of all the plays, and during the last quarter of the
football game to sell in the bleachers a complete account to the end of
the first half. But even this speed is not always sufficient. Where the
outcome of a big piece of news may be predicted, advance headlines are
set up and held ready to be clamped on the press. In the case of the
Willard-Johnson fight, two heads were held awaiting the knockout: JESS
WILLARD NEW CHAMPION and JACK JOHNSON RETAINS TITLE. When President
McKinley died in September, 1901, one prominent Milwaukee newspaper man
held locked on his presses from 8:00 A.M. until the President died at
midnight the plates that would print the whole story of Mr. McKinley's
life, assassination, and death. Then when the flash came announcing the
dreaded event, the presses were started, and ten seconds afterward
newsboys were crying the death of the President of the United States.
Such are some of the devices editors use to publish news in the shortest
possible time.
IV. THE BUSINESS DEPARTMENT
=30. Divisions of the Business Department.=--When the paper issues from
the press, it passes into the hands of the circulation manager, whose
duties are in an entirely different department of the newspaper
organization,--the business department. This department is divided into
two or three more or less closely connected divisions, presided over by
the circulation manager, the advertising manager, and the cashier. Over
all these is the business manager, who supervises the department as a
whole.
=31. The Circulation Manager.=--The work of the circulation manager has
been termed simple by outsiders. But the simplicity exists only for
outsiders. The distribution of a hundred thousand to a million papers a
day is not a small task in itself, particularly when one considers the
scores of trains to be caught, the dozens of delivery wagons and wagon
drivers to be guided, and the hundreds of newsboys and newsstands to be
supplied with the very latest editions at the very earliest moment. Yet
the circulation manager's duties are even more multifarious than this.
All the canvassers for new subscriptions are under his supervision. The
organization of the newsboys for selling his paper is his duty,--and it
is marvelous how the good-will of the newsboys, even when they handle
all rival publications, can boost the sales of some particular
circulation manager's papers. The advertising of the paper's past and
forthcoming news features, such as stories by special writers, exclusive
dispatches, etc., are the brunt of his work, because in so far as he
makes people believe in the superiority of his news, they will buy the
papers. Even the outcries against public grievances and the publication
of subscription lists for charitable purposes are often the thoughts of
the circulation manager, because they invite more readers. Some
managers, under the guise of helping the down-and-outs, even publish
free all "Situations Wanted" advertisements, because they believe that
the loss in advertising will be more than paid for by the gain in the
number of readers, with the resultant possibility of higher advertising
rates or more advertising in other departments because of the increased
circulation.
=32. The Advertising Manager.=--Closely associated with the circulation
manager is the advertising manager, who is dependent upon the former for
his rates. It makes a great difference with the advertising manager's
rates whether the circulation is a hundred thousand or a quarter of a
million, and whether the circulation is double or one half that of the
rival morning publication. The advertising manager's duties are as
manifold as those of his associate. He directs the advertising
solicitors and advises prospective advertisers about the place, prices,
space, and character of their advertisements. A chewing tobacco ad is
worth little in the column bordering the society section; the back page
is far more valuable for advertising than the inside; and the columns
next to reading matter are worth more than those on a page filled only
with advertisements. The advertising manager, too, has the power of
accepting or rejecting advertisements. Liquor, soothing syrup, and
questionable ads are barred by many managers. Some will not even accept
so-called personal ads. Yet at the same time that they are rejecting ads
in this class, such managers are straining every point to gain desirable
ones. One way of obtaining these is by advertising solicitors. Another
is by advertising in one's own paper and in publications in other
cities. Many of the metropolitan dailies exchange whole and half-page
advertisements, directing attention to their circulation figures and the
number of agate lines of advertising matter printed within the
preceding month or year. Some of these papers publish audited
statements, too, of the relative number of advertising lines printed by
their own and rival publications. But the advantage is always in their
own favor.
=33. The Cashier.=--The third division of the business department is the
cashier's office, frequently known as the counting room. Briefly put,
the cashier directs the pay-roll and all receipts and disbursements of
the paper. He keeps the books of the publishing company. From him the
reporter receives his pay envelop, and to him are sent all bills for
paper, ink, machinery, telegraph and telephone messages, and similar
expenses. Rarely has the cashier served an apprenticeship in the
editorial department, but he knows thoroughly the business of
bookkeeping, money changing, banking, and similar work, which is all
that is required in his position.
PART II
THE NEWS STORY
THE NEWS STORY
V. WHAT NEWS IS
=34. Essentials of News Writing.=--To write successful news stories,
four requisites are necessary: the power to estimate news values
properly, the stories to write, the ability to work rapidly, and the
power to present facts accurately and interestingly.
=35. The "Nose for News."=--Recognition of news values is put first in
the tabulation of requirements for successful writing because without a
"nose for news"--without the ability to recognize a story when one sees
it--a reporter cannot hope to succeed. Editorial rooms all over the
United States are full of stories of would-be reporters who have failed
because they have not been able to recognize news. The following is a
genuine first paragraph of a country correspondent's letter to a village
weekly in Tennessee:
|There is no news in this settlement to speak of. We|
|did hear of a man whose head was blown off by a |
|boiler explosion, but we didn't have time to learn |
|his name. Anyhow he didn't have any kinfolk in this|
|country, so it don't much matter. |
Then follow the usual dull items about Henry Hawkins Sundaying in
Adamsville and Tom Anderson autoing with a new girl.
=36. Need of Knowing News.=--The fault with this correspondent was that
he did not know a good story. He lacked an intuitive knowledge of news
values, and he had not been trained to recognize available news
possibilities. A clear understanding of what news is, and an analysis of
its more or less elusive qualities, is necessary, therefore, before one
may attempt a search for it or may dare the writing of a newspaper
story.
=37. Definition of News.=--In its final analysis, news may be defined as
any accurate fact or idea that will interest a large number of readers;
and of two stories the accurate one that interests the greater number of
people is the better. The student should examine this definition with
care as there is more in it than at first appears. Strangeness,
abnormality, unexpectedness, nearness of the events, all add to the
interest of a story, but none is essential. Even timeliness is not a
prerequisite. If it were learned to-day that a member of the United
States Senate had killed a man in 1912, the occurrence would be news and
would be carried on the front page of every paper in America, even
though the deed were committed years ago. And if it should transpire
that Csolgosz was bribed by an American millionaire to assassinate
President McKinley in 1901, the story would be good for a column in any
paper. Freshness, enormity, departure from the normal, all are good and
add to the value of news, but they are not essential. The only
requirements are that the story shall be accurate and shall contain
facts or ideas interesting to a considerable number of readers.
=38. Accuracy.=--The reason for emphasizing so particularly the need of
accuracy in news requires little discussion. _Accuracy First_ is the
slogan of the modern newspaper. If a piece of news, no matter how
thrilling, is untrue, it is worthless in the columns of a reputable
journal. It is worse than worthless, because it makes the public lose
confidence in the paper. And the ideal of all first-class newspapers
to-day is never to be compelled to retract a published statement. This
desire for accuracy does not bar a paper from publishing, for example, a
rumor of the assassination of the German Crown Prince, but it does
demand that the report be published only as an unverified rumor.
=39. Interest.=--The statement, however, that interest is the other
requisite of news requires full explanation, because the demand
immediately comes for an explanation of that elusive quality in news
which makes it interesting. In other words, what constitutes interest?
Any item of news, it may be defined, that will present a new problem, a
new situation, that will provoke thought in the minds of a considerable
number of readers, is interesting, and that story is most interesting
which presents a new problem to the greatest number of people. It is a
psychological truth that all men think only when they must. Yet they
enjoy being made to think,--not too hard, but hard enough to engage
their minds seriously. The first time they meet a problem they think
over it, and think hard if need be. But when they meet that problem a
second or a third time, they solve it automatically. A man learning to
drive a car has presented to him a new problem about which he must think
keenly. The steering wheel, the foot-brake, the accelerator, the brake
and speed levers, the possibility of touching the wrong pedal,--all
demand his undivided attention and keep him thinking every moment of the
time. But having learned, having solved his problem, he can run his car
without conscious thought, and meanwhile can devote his mind to problems
of business or pleasure. As Professor Pitkin says:
Whatsoever we can manage through some other agency we do so
manage. And, if thinking is imperative for a while, we make that
while as brief as possible. The baby thinks in learning to walk,
but as soon as his feet move surely he refrains from cogitation.
He thinks over his speech, too, but quickly he outgrows that,
transforming discourse from an intellectual performance to a
reflex habit. And he never thinks about the order and choice of
words again, unless they give rise to some new, unforeseen
perplexity; as, for instance, they might, were he suddenly
afflicted with stammering or stage fright. This is no scandal,
it is a great convenience. Thanks to it, men are able to concern
themselves with fresh enterprises and hence to progress. Indeed,
civilization is a titanic monument to thoughtlessness, no less
than to thought. The supreme triumph of mind is to dispense with
itself. For what would intellect avail us, if we could not
withdraw it from action in all the habitual encounters of daily
life?[2]
[2] _Short Story Writing_, pp. 64-65.
=40. What Provokes Thought is News.=--Men apply the same principle, too,
in their news reading. Whatever presents a new problem, or injects a new
motive or situation into an old one, will be interesting and will be
read by those readers to whom the problem or situation is new. It is
not, therefore, that American men and women are interested in the sins
and misfortunes of others that they read stories of crime and unhallowed
love, but that such stories present new problems, new life situations,
or new phases of old problems and old situations. A story of innocence
and hallowed love would be just as interesting. When the newspapers of
the United States make the President's wedding the big story of the day,
it is not that they think their patrons have never seen a wedding, but
that a wedding under just such circumstances has never been presented
before. And every published story of murder or divorce or struggle for
victory offers new thought-provoking problems to newspaper readers. Men
are continually searching for new situations that will present new
problems. And any story that will provoke a reader's thought will be
enjoyed as news.
=41. Timeliness.=--But there are certain definite features that add
greatly to the interest of stories. Timeliness is the first of these.
Indeed, timeliness is so important in a story that one prominent
writer[3] on journalism deems it an essential of a good story. Certainly
it figures in ninety per cent of the published articles in our daily
newspapers. The word _yesterday_ has been relegated to the scrap heap.
_To-day_, _this morning_, _this afternoon_ should appear if possible in
every story. And the divorce that was granted yesterday or the accident
that happened last night must be viewed from such an angle that _to-day_
shall appear in the write-up. Close competition and improved machinery
have made freshness, timeliness, all but a requisite in every story.
[3] Professor Willard Grosvenor Bleyer. See his
_Newspaper Writing and Editing_, p. 18.
=42. Closeness of the Event.=--Next to nearness in time comes nearness
in place as a means of maintaining interest. Other things being equal,
the worth of a story varies in inverse proportion to its closeness in
time and place. A theft of ten dollars in one's home town is worth more
space than a theft of a thousand in a city across the continent. A visit
of Mrs. Gadabit, wife of the president of our city bank, to
Neighborville twenty miles away is worth more space than a trip made by
Mrs. Astor to Europe. Whenever possible, the good reporter seeks to
localize his story and draw it close to the everyday lives of his
readers. Even an accidental acquaintance of a man in town with the noted
governor or the notorious criminal who has just been brought into the
public eye--with a brief quotation of the local man's opinion of the
other fellow, or how they chanced to meet,--is worth generous space in
any paper. Oftentimes a resident man or woman's opinion of a statement
made by some one else, or of a problem of civic, state, or national
interest, is given an important place merely by reason of the fact that
the story is associated with some locally prominent person. Always the
effort is made to localize the news.
=43. The Search for Extremes.=--Again, say what one may, the American
public loves extremes in its news stories. If a pumpkin can be made the
largest ever grown in one's section, or a murder the foulest ever
committed in the vicinity, or a robbery the boldest ever attempted in
the block, or a race the fastest ever run on the track, or anything else
the largest or the least ever registered in the community, it will be
good for valuable space in the local news columns. A record breaker in
anything is a new problem to the public, who will read with eager joy
every detail concerning the attainment of the new record.
=44. The Unusual.=--The exceptional, the unusual, the abnormal is in a
sense a record breaker and will be read about with zest. A burglar
stealing a Bible or returning a baby's mite box, a calf with two heads,
a dog committing suicide, a husband divorcing his wife so that she may
marry a man whom she loves better,--such stories belong in the list with
the unique and will be found of exceptional interest to readers.
=45. Contests.=--The description of a contest always makes interesting
news. No matter whether the struggle is between athletic teams, business
men, society women, race horses, or neighboring cities, if the element
of struggle for supremacy can be injected into the story, it will be
read with added zest. Such stories may be found in the search of
politicians for office, in the struggles of business men for control of
trade or for squeezing out competitors, in contests between capital and
labor, in religious factions, in collegiate rivalry, and in many of the
seemingly commonplace struggles of everyday life. The individual,
elementary appeal that comes from struggle is always thrilling.
=46. Helplessness.=--Opposed to stories depicting struggle for supremacy
are those portraying the joys or the sufferings of the very old or very
young, or of those who are physically or mentally unable to struggle.
The joy of an aged mother because her boy remembered her birthday, the
undeserved sufferings of an old man, the cry of a child in pain, the
distress of a helpless animal, all are full of interest to the average
reader. Helplessness, particularly in its hours of suffering or its
moments of unaccustomed pleasure, compels the sympathy of everyone, and
every reporter is delighted with the opportunity to write a "sob story"
picturing the friendlessness and the want of such unprivileged ones.
These stories not only are read with interest, but often prove a
practical means of helping those in distress.
=47. Prominent Persons.=--Directly opposed to stories about helpless
persons or animals are those of prominent men and women. For some reason
news about the great, no matter how trivial, is always of interest, and
varies in direct proportion to the prominence of the person. If the
President of the United States drives a golf ball into a robin's nest,
if the oil king in the Middle West prefers a wig to baldness, if the
millionaire automobile manufacturer never pays more than five cents for
his cigars, the reading public is greatly interested in learning the
fact. Nor is it essential that the reader shall have heard of the
prominent man. It is sufficient that his position socially or
professionally is high.
=48. Well-known Places.=--The same interest attaches to noted or
notorious places. A news item about Reno, Nevada, is worth more than one
about Rome, Georgia, though the cities are of about the same size. A
street traffic regulation in New York City is copied all over the United
States, notwithstanding the fact that the same law may have been passed
by the city council in Winchester, Kentucky, years before and gone
unnoticed. And so with Coney Island or Niagara Falls or Death Valley, or
any one of a hundred other places that might be named. The fashions they
originate, the ideas for which they stand sponsors, the accidents that
happen in their vicinity, all have specific interest by virtue of their
previous note or notoriety. And if the reporter can fix the setting of
his story in such a place, he may be assured of interested readers.
=49. Personal and Financial Interests.=--Finally, if a news story can be
found that will bear directly on the personal or financial interests of
the patrons of the paper, one may be sure of its cordial reception. If
turkeys take the roup six weeks before Thanksgiving, or taxes promise a
drop with the new year, or pork volplanes two or three cents, or an ice
famine is threatened, or styles promise coats a few inches shorter or
socks a few shades greener, the readers are eager to know and will
applaud the vigilance of the editors. For this reason, a reporter can
often pick up an extra story--and reporters are judged by the extra
stories they place on the city editor's desk--by occasionally dropping
in at markets, grocery stores, and similar business houses and inquiring
casually for possible drops or rises in price. For the same reason, too,
new styles as seen in the shop windows are always good for a
half-column. And one cannot think of covering a dressmakers' convention,
an automobile show, a jewelers' exhibition, or a similar gathering
without playing up prominently the new styles. A clever San Francisco
reporter covering a convention of insurance agents once produced a
brilliant story on new styles in life insurance policies.
=50. Summary.=--By way of summary, then, it may be said that the only
requirements of an event or an idea to make it good story material are
that it be presented accurately and that it possess interest for a
goodly number of readers; and any fact or idea which presents a
situation or poses a problem differing, even slightly, from preceding
situations or problems encountered by the readers of a paper is sure to
possess interest. Timeliness is of vital worth, but is not a necessity.
The geographical nearness of an event adds to its value, as does the
fact that the event or the product or the result is a record breaker or
is unique in its class. Contests of all sorts invariably possess
interest, and stories of the helplessness of old persons, children, or
animals never fail to have an emotional appeal. Any news item concerning
a well-known person or place is likely to attract attention, and any
story that touches the home or business interests of the public is sure
to command interested readers. All these features are valuable, and any
one will contribute much to the worth of a story, but none is essential.
The prerequisite is that the news shall be true and shall present a new
situation or problem, or a new phase of an old situation or problem.
VI. NEWS SOURCES
=51. Second Essential of News Writing.=--As explained in the preceding
chapter, the first essential in news writing is a proper appreciation of
news and news values. The second essential is the possession of a story
to write. This chapter will discuss news sources, leaving for Chapter
III an explanation of the methods of getting stories.
=52. Gathering News.=--The prospective reporter who supposes that
newspaper men wander aimlessly up and down the streets of a city,
watching and hoping for automobiles to collide and for men to shoot
their enemies, will have his eyes opened soon after entering a news
office. He will learn that a reporter never leaves the city room without
a definite idea of where he is going. If newspapers had to police the
streets with watchers for news as the city government assigns officers
of the law, the cost of gathering news would be prohibitive.
=53. Police as News Gatherers.=--As a matter of fact, a paper has
comparatively few paid men on its staff, though it has hundreds of
non-paid watchers who are just as faithful. The police are the chief of
these. As every reporter knows, a policeman is compelled to make to his
captain a full and prompt report of every fire, robbery, murder,
accident, or mishap involving loss of, or danger to, life or property
occurring on his beat. This report is made to the local precinct or
station, whence it is telephoned to police headquarters. At the central
station the report is recorded in the daily record book of crime, known
familiarly to the public as the "blotter." Not all of the reports
recorded on the police blotter are made public, because hasty
announcement of information received by the police oftentimes would
forestall expected arrests; but such information as the desk sergeant is
willing to utter is given out in brief bulletins, sometimes posted
behind locked glass doors, sometimes simply written in a large ledger
open to public inspection. Whether written in the ledger or displayed on
a bulletin board, these bulletins are known always as slips, of which
the following are typical examples:
Oct. 4 Suicide Attempt
Theodore Pavolovich, 24 yrs., arrested Oct. 1, 1915,
fugitive, abandonment, Chicago, attempted suicide by
stabbing with a fork while eating dinner. Sent to
Emergency Hospital, ambulance 4.
12:50 P. M. Conway
Oct. 4 Clothing Found
Woman's coat, hat, and purse found on bank of Lake
Michigan, foot of Pine St., 4:10 P. M. Skirt taken
from water, same place, 4:30 P. M., by patrolman
Heath. Clothing identified as Mrs. George Riley's,
18 Veazy St., missing since noon.
4:40 P. M. Nock
Oct. 18 Leg Broken
Mary Molinski, 40 yrs., single, 492 Grove St., fell
down stairs, 7:05 P. M. Leg broken. Conveyed to St.
Elizabeth Hospital by patrol 3.
7:30 P. M. Pct. 3.
Oct. 19 Calf Carcass Found
Calf carcass, black and white hide, weight about
85 pounds, found at 11th and Henry Ave.
6:30 A. M. Oper
These slips need little explanation. The name signed to each is that of
the police officer reporting. The _Pct. 3_ signed after the third
indicates merely the local precinct from which the report was made. The
time at the end of each slip signifies the exact time at which the
report was received at police headquarters.
=54. Arrest Sheets.=--In addition to the slips there are the "arrest
sheets," on which all arrests are recorded. These sheets are open always
to public inspection, as the public has a right to know of every arrest,
lest a man be imprisoned unjustly. On page 37 is given a verbatim
reproduction of the arrests recorded in a city in the Middle West. The
_M_ or _S_ at the top of the fifth column stands for _married or
single_, and _R_ and _W_ at the top of the eighth, for _read and write_.
The _D and D_ charge against the second offender is _drunk and
disorderly_. It will be noted that the cases entered after ten o'clock
had not been disposed of when this sheet was copied. From these arrest
sheets and the slips, as the reader may readily see, the reporter is
able to get a brief but prompt and accurate account of most of the
accidents and crimes within the city. And with these advance notices in
his possession he can follow up the event and get all available facts.
=55. Other News Gatherers.=--But there are numerous other non-paid news
gatherers. Doctors are required to report to the health department every
birth, death, and contagious disease to which they have been called in a
professional capacity. To the coroner is reported every fatal accident,
suicide, murder, or suspicious death. The county clerk keeps a record of
every marriage license. The recorder of deeds has a register of all
sales and transfers of property. The building inspector has a full
account of buildings condemned, permits granted for new buildings, and
fire devices required. The leading hotels have the names of important
guests visiting or passing through the city. Thus by regular visitation
of certain persons and places in the city, a newspaper through its
representatives, the reporters, is able to get most of the news of its
neighborhood.
AN ARREST SHEET
=======+=======+========+====+====+=======+===+=====+=============
Name | Ad- | Occu- | A | M | Where | C | R | Charge
| dress | pation | g | or | born | o | and |
| | | e | S | | l | W |
| | | | | | o | |
| | | | | | r | |
-------+-------+--------+----+----+-------+---+-----+-------------
John | 16 | Cook | 32 | S | U.S. | W | Yes | Vagrancy
Glass | Lake | | | | | | |
| St. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Chas. | 124 | Tailor | 28 | M | " | " | " | D and D
King | John | | | | | | |
| St. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Ben | 50 | Ped- | 41 | M | " | " | " | Violating
Loti | Third | dler | | | | | | Health
| St. | | | | | | | Laws
| | | | | | | |
Nell | 38 | House- | 19 | S | " | " | " | Drunk
Smith | West | work | | | | | |
| Ave. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Nick | 1630 | Barber | 24 | M | " | " | " | Abandonment
White | D St. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Edw. | 6 | Broker | 47 | M | " | " | " | Violating
Meyer | Palm | | | | | | | Speed Laws
| St. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Jane | 2935 | House- | 44 | M | " | " | " | Keeping
Gray | Elm | wife | | | | | | Disorderly
| St. | | | | | | | House
| | | | | | | |
Peter | 66 | Line- | 23 | S | Ger. | " | " | Seduction
Amt | State | man | | | | | |
| St. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Alex | St. | But- | 24 | M | U.S. | " | " | Fugitive
Bass | Louis | cher | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
Geo. | 1916 | Watch- | 31 | M | " | " | " | Murder
Holt | 4th | man | | | | | |
| St. | | | | | | |
-------+-------+--------+----+----+-------+---+-----+-------------
=======+=========+=========+=======+=======+======+=============
Name | Comp- | Officer | Date | Time | Cell | Disposition
| lainant | & Pre- | | | & |
| | cinct | | | Ward |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
-------+---------+---------+-------+-------+------+-------------
John | Jacobs | Jacobs | Oct. | 8:00 | 6 3 | 10
Glass | | 3 | 15 | AM | | days
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Chas. | Hays | Hays | " " | 8:30 | 7 3 | Bound
King | | 6 | | AM | | over
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Ben | Jones | Oper | " " | 10:40 | 8 3 |
Loti | | | | AM | |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Nell | Hays | Hays | " " | 10:50 | 2 2 |
Smith | | 7 | | AM | |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Nick | Chief | Olson | " " | 11:10 | 3 2 |
White | Police, | 3 | | AM | |
| Atlanta | | | | |
| | | | | |
Edw. | Thiel | Thiel | " " | 3:25 | 4 2 |
Meyer | | 8 | | PM | |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Jane | J. B. | Walker | " " | 11:10 | 7 1 |
Gray | Katz | 1 | | PM | |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Peter | Vera | Towne | " " | 11:30 | 6 1 |
Amt | Mann | 4 | | PM | |
| | | | | |
| | | | | |
Alex | Chief | Bower | " " | 11:45 | 5 1 |
Bass | Police, | 2 | | PM | |
| St. | | | | |
| Louis | | | | |
| | | | | |
Geo. | Mrs. | Owens | " " | 11:50 | 2 1 |
Holt | Holt | 3 | | PM | |
| | | | | |
-------+---------+---------+-------+-------+------+-------------
=56. Regular News Sources.=--Places that serve as news sources are known
as "beats" or "runs." The chief ones and the kinds of news found at each
are:
Associated Charities Headquarters: destitution, poverty, relief
work.
Boards of Trade, Brokers, Commission Men: market quotations;
sales of grain, stocks, and bonds; financial outlook.
Boxing Commission: boxing permissions and regulations.
Building Department, Real Estate Dealers, Architects: new
buildings, unsafe buildings.
Caterers: banquets, society dinners.
Civic Organizations: reform movements, speakers, etc.
Civil Courts: complaints, trials, decisions.
Commercial Club: business news.
Coroner's Office: fatal accidents, murders, suicides, suspicious
deaths.
County Clerk: marriage licenses, county statistics.
County Jail: arrests, crimes, executions.
Criminal Courts: arraignments, trials, verdicts.
Delicatessen Stores: banquets, society dinners.
Fire Department Headquarters: fires, fire losses, fire
regulations, condemned buildings.
Florists: banquets, dinners, receptions, social functions.
Health Department: births, deaths, contagious diseases, reports
on sanitation.
Hospitals: accidents, illnesses, deaths.
Hotels: important guests, banquets, dinners, social functions.
Labor Union Headquarters: labor news.
Morgue: unidentified corpses.
Police Headquarters: accidents, arrests, crimes, fires, lost and
found articles, missing persons, suicides, sudden or suspicious
deaths.
Political Clubs and Headquarters: county, state, and national
political news.
Probate Office: estates, wills.
Public Works Department: civic improvements.
Railway Offices: new rates, general shipping news.
Referee in Bankruptcy: assignments, failures, creditors'
meetings, appointments of receivers, settlements.
Register of Deeds: real estate sales and transfers.
Shipping Offices: departure and docking of vessels; cargoes,
shipping rates, passenger lists.
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals: arrests,
complaints, animal stories.
Superintendent of Schools: educational news.
Vice Commission: arrests, complaints, raids.
=57. News Runs.=--These runs are distributed among the different
reporters, sometimes only one, sometimes three or four to a person. On a
small paper all of the runs, or all to be found in that town, may be
given to one reporter, the number assigned depending upon the size of
the town, the nature of the territory covered, and the willingness or
unwillingness of the owners to spend money in getting news. On the
larger papers, however, police headquarters generally provide work for
one man alone, known as the "watcher." In many cases he does no writing
at all, but merely watches the slips and the sheets for reports and
arrests, which he telephones to the city editor, who assigns other
reporters to get the details and write the stories. Another reporter
watches the city clerk's office and perhaps all the other departments in
the city hall, which he visits at random intervals during the day, but
without such close attention to any one office as is given to police
headquarters. Still another goes to the shipping offices and two or
three other places which he will visit ordinarily not more than once a
day. But whether he goes five times a day or only once, a reporter is
held responsible for all the news occurring on his run; and if he falls
short in his duty or lets some more nimble-witted reporter scoop him on
the news of his beat, he had better begin making himself friends of the
mammon of unrighteousness to receive him into their habitations; for a
scoop, even of a few minutes, by a rival publication is the unpardonable
sin with the city editor. The wise reporter never neglects any news
source on his run.
=58. Dark Runs.=--Before we take up methods of getting stories, one
other news source should be noted,--what reporters know as "dark runs,"
runs that are consistently productive of news, but which must be kept
"dark." Such places are garages, delicatessen stores, florists' shops,
and similar shops providing flowers, cakes, and luxuries for private
dinners and receptions. An unwritten law of trade makes it a breach of
professional etiquette for a shopkeeper to tell the names of purchasers
of goods, but many a proprietor, as a matter of business pride, is glad
to recount the names of his patrons on Lakeside Drive and their splendid
orders just given. Garage men, too, wishing it known that millionaire
automobile owners patronize their shops, often are willing to tell of
battered cars repaired by their men. All such sources are fertile with
stories. Many a rich man's automobile crashes into a culvert or a
telegraph pole and nobody knows of it but the mechanic in the repair
shop. Many a prominent club-man indulges in orgies of revelry and
dissipation of which none knows but the caterer and a few chosen,
non-committal friends. Many a society leader plans receptions and
dinners of which the florist learns before the friends who are to be
invited. And by skilfully encouraging the friendship of these tradesmen,
a shrewd reporter can obtain exclusive facts about prominent persons who
cannot understand, when they see their names in the morning paper, how
the information was made public. These "dark runs" justify diligent
attention. They produce news, and valuable is the reporter who can
include successfully a number of such sources in his daily rounds.
=59. Value of Wide Acquaintance.=--Attention may be directed, too, to
the need of deliberately cultivating friendships and acquaintances, not
only on these "dark runs," but wherever one goes--both on and off duty.
In the stores, along the street, on the cars, at the club, the alert
reporter gathers many an important news item. The merchant, the cabman,
the preacher, the barkeeper, the patrolman, the thug, the club-man, the
porter, all make valuable acquaintances, as they are able often to give
one stories or clues to the solution of problems that are all but
invaluable to the paper. And such facts as they present are given solely
because of their interest in the reporter. One should guard zealously,
however, against betraying the confidence of such friends. The reporter
must distinguish the difference between publishing a story gained from a
stranger by dint of shrewd interviewing, and printing the same story
obtained from a fellow club-man more or less confidentially over the
cigars and coffee. The stranger's information the reporter must publish.
No newspaper man has a right to suppress news obtained while on duty or
to accept the confidence of anyone, if by such confidence he is
precluded the right to publish certain facts. The publication or
non-publication of such news is a matter for the city editor's decision
alone. But a story obtained confidentially from a friend at the club or
in the home of a neighbor may not be used except with the express
permission of those persons. Many a man has seen himself and his paper
scooped because he was too honorable to betray the trust of his friends;
but such a single scoop is worth nothing in comparison with the
continued confidence of one's friends and their later prejudiced
assistance. Personal and professional integrity is a newspaper man's
first principle.
VII. GETTING THE STORY
=60. Starting for a Story.=--In the preceding chapter attention was
directed to news sources, to definite places for obtaining news. The
reporter's situation changes radically, however, when he is sent for a
story and is told merely that somebody at Grove and Spring streets has
been shot. There are four corners at Grove and Spring streets, and the
shooting may have occurred, not on the corner, but at the second or
third house from any one of the four corners, and maybe in a rear
apartment. On such an assignment one should have on hand cards and
plenty of paper and pencils. Every reporter should keep several sharp,
soft lead pencils. Folded copy paper is sufficient for note-taking. The
stage journalist appears always with conspicuous pencil and notebook,
but the practical newspaper man displays these insignia of his
profession as little as possible. A neat, engraved business card is
necessary because often it is the only means of admittance to a house.
=61. Use of the Telephone.=--If the name of the person shot at Spring
and Grove streets has been given him, the reporter may look it up in the
telephone and city directories, in order to get some idea of the man and
his profession. If the house has a telephone, the reporter may sometimes
use this means of getting information, but this step generally is not
advisable, as the telephone cannot be trusted on important stories. A
person can ring off too easily if he prefers not to answer questions,
and his gestures and facial expressions, emphasizing or denying the
statements that his lips make, cannot be seen. The telephone is rather
to be used for running down rumors and tips, for obtaining unimportant
interviews, and for getting stories which the persons concerned wish to
have appear in the paper. If in this case the reporter has doubts about
the shooting, he may telephone to a nearby bakery or meat market to
verify the rumor, but he had better not telephone the house. Let him go
there in person.
=62. City Maps.=--If the reporter does not know the name of the
individual shot or the location of Grove and Spring streets, he should
consult his city map to learn precisely where he is going. If he is in a
hurry, he may examine the map on his way to the car line, or while he is
calling a taxi. Actually he ought to know the city so well that he need
not consult a map at all (and the man whose ambition is to be a
first-class reporter will soon acquire that knowledge), but to a
beginner, a map is valuable.
=63. Finding the Place.=--Having arrived at Grove and Spring streets,
the reporter should go first to the policeman on the beat. Unless the
shooting is one that for some reason has been hushed up, the policeman
will know all the main details. Usually, too, if approached courteously,
he will be glad to point out the house and tell what he knows. If he
knows nothing or pretends ignorance, the reporter must seek the house
itself; nor must he be discouraged if he fails to get his information at
the first, second, or third house, nor indeed after he has inquired at
every door in the adjacent blocks. There are still left the neighborhood
stores,--the groceries, bakeries, saloons, meat markets, and barber
shops,--and maybe in the last one of these, the barber shop, a customer
with his coat off, waiting for a shave, will remember that he heard
somebody say a man by the name of Davis was shot "around the corner."
But he does not know what corner, or where the man lives, or his
initials, or who gave him his information.
=64. Regular Reports to the City Editor.=--The reporter's first step now
is to go to the corner drugstore and examine the telephone and city
directories for every Davis living in the neighborhood. While in the
drugstore he may call up the city editor and report progress on the
story. When away on an assignment there is need always of reporting
regularly, particularly if one is working on an afternoon paper. Some
city editors require a man to telephone every hour whether he has any
news or not. A big story may break and the city editor may have nobody
to handle it, or the office may have fuller information about the story
which the reporter is investigating. Besides, on an afternoon paper
where an edition is appearing every hour or so, every fresh detail,
though small, may be of interest to readers following the story.
=65. Retracing One's Work.=--If no Davises are listed in the city or
telephone directories, or none of those whose names appear knows
anything of the shooting, the reporter's work of inquiry is still
unfinished. He must go back to the patrolman on the beat and inquire if
any person by the name of Davis has recently moved into the
neighborhood,--since, for instance, the last city directory was
published. Failing again, he must make once more the rounds of the
houses on or near the four corners and of the neighborhood shops,
inquiring in each instance for Mr. Davis. If there is a grocery store, a
bakery, or a laundry in the vicinity, he must be sure to inquire there,
particularly at the laundry, as the proprietors of those places are the
first to get the names of newcomers in a neighborhood. The laundries
must have names and addresses for deliveries, while housewives exchange
gossip daily in the other places between purchases of vegetables and
yeast cakes.
=66. Need of Determination.=--If the reporter still fails, he must not
give up even yet without first resorting to every other measure that the
special circumstances of the case make possible. There is never a story
without some way to unearth it, and every such story is potentially a
great one. A telephone message to the leading hospitals may bring
results. Inquiry at the corner houses in the four adjoining blocks may
disclose a Mr. Davis. Inquiry of the children skating along the sidewalk
may unearth him. But in any event, the reporter must not give up until
he has investigated every available clue. The city editor does not want
and will not take excuses for failures to bring back stories; he wants
stories.
=67. Gaining Access for an Interview.=--If at his last place of inquiry,
perhaps from one of the skating children, the reporter learns it was not
Mr. Davis at all who was shot, but Mr. Davidson, who may be found three
blocks down at Spring and Grosvenor streets, his task now immediately
changes to gaining access to Mr. Davidson, or to Mrs. Davidson, or to
some one in the building who can give him the facts. Here is where his
card may serve. If Mr. Davidson has rooms in a hotel, he may send his
card up by a bellboy; if in a club, he may give it to the porter at the
door. If the house at Spring and Grosvenor streets, however, is plainly
one where a card would be out of place, he may simply inquire for Mr.
Davidson. It is not at all improbable that Mr. Davidson was only
slightly injured and one may be permitted to see him. If, however, the
person answering the door states that Mr. Davidson cannot be seen, as he
was injured that morning, the reporter may express his interest and
inquire the cause, thus making a natural and easy step toward what
newspaper men generally consider the most difficult phase of
reporting,--the interview.
=68. Requirements for Interviewing.=--Broadly speaking, there are six
requirements for successful interviewing: a pleasing presence, the
ability to question judiciously, a quick perception of news even in
chance remarks, a retentive memory, the power to detect falsehood
readily, and the ability to single out characteristic phrases.
Technically, an interview is a consultation with a man of rank for the
sake of publishing his opinions. In practice, however, because the term
_man of rank_ is hazy in its inclusiveness, the word has come to mean
consultation with any person for the purpose of reporting his views. And
in this sense the word _interview_ will be used in this volume.
=69. A Pleasing Presence.=--The first requisite for successful
interviewing, a pleasing presence, must be interpreted broadly. In the
term are included immaculacy of person and linen, as well as tact,
courtesy, and all those qualities that make for ease of mind while
conversing. Clothes may not make a man, but the lack of them will ruin a
reporter. An unshaven face or a collar of yesterday's wear will do a
newspaper man so much harm in some persons' eyes that all the shrewd
questions he can ask during the interview will be of little value. Lack
of tact in approaching or addressing a man will have the same
unfortunate result. Many reporters think that by resorting to flattery
they can induce men to talk; then they wonder why they fail. A reporter
must keep in mind that the persons he interviews usually possess as keen
intellects as his own and mere flattery will be quickly detected and
resented.
=70. Courtesy.=--Above all things in his purpose to present a pleasing
presence, the interviewer must possess unfailing courtesy. He must never
forget that he is a gentleman, no matter what the other person may be.
He cannot afford to permit himself even to become angry. Anger does not
pay, for two reasons. In the first place, when a reporter loses his
temper, he immediately loses his head. He becomes so absorbed in his own
emotions that he cannot question shrewdly or remember clearly what is
said by the man from whom he would extract information. In the second
place, anger creates hostility, and a hostile man or woman not only does
not willingly give information, but will be an enemy of the paper
forever afterward. Always, therefore, the interviewer must be courteous,
knowing that kindness begets kindness and that the other fellow, if
approached rightly, will respond in the end to his own mood.
=71. Asking Questions.=--Concerning the second requirement for
interviewing, judicious questioning, only general precepts can be given.
The reporter must rely largely on himself. As a rule, however, the
personal equation should be considered. Every man is interested in
himself and his work, and the interviewer often may start him talking by
beginning on work. The essential thing is to get some topic that will
launch him into easy, natural conversation. Then, with his man started,
the interviewer may well keep silent. Only a cub reporter will interrupt
the natural flow of conversation for the sake merely of giving his own
views. If the man runs too far afield, the reporter may guide the
conversation back to the original topic; but he may well subject himself
to much irrelevant talk for the sake of guiding his informer back
gracefully to the topic of interest.
=72. Persons Seeking Advertisement.=--From the standpoint of the
newspaper man, there are three classes of persons one encounters in
interviewing: those who talk, those who will not, and those who do not
know they are divulging secrets. Concerning the first little need be
said. Such persons talk because they enjoy seeing their names in print.
It is a marvel how many men and women object with seeming sincerity to
their names being made public property, yet at the same time give the
reporter full details for the story he wishes and hand him their cards
so that he may spell their names correctly. Many such celebrities will
stand for any kind of interview, so that the reporter need only
determine in advance what he would have them say to make a good story.
With them advertisement is so much personal gain; they are glad to
accede to any sort of odd statement for the sake of possible public
notice. Such persons are to be avoided; advertisements are written by
the advertising manager or his helpers and fixed prices are charged.
=73. Persons Refusing to Talk.=--With the second and third classes,
however, the interviewer must be careful, particularly with the second.
Men who will not talk are usually well acquainted with the world.
Sometimes they may be forced into making statements by asking them
questions that will almost certainly arouse their anger and so make them
speak hastily, but the reporter himself must be doubly careful in such
cases to keep his own temper sweet. Oftentimes such men, particularly
society criminals and others who possess an especial fear of having
their wrong-doing known among their friends, try to keep from being
written up by saying they are unwilling to make any kind of statement
for publication, but that they will do so in court if anything is
published about them. The reporter will not let such a threat daunt him.
He will get the facts and present them to the city editor with the
person's hint of criminal action, then let the city editor determine the
problem of publication.
=74. Persons Divulging Secrets.=--Frequently a person of the second
class may be slyly converted into the group of those who do not know
they are divulging secrets, by the reporter deliberately leading away
from the topic about which he has come for an interview, then circling
round to the hazardous subject when the person interviewed is off his
guard. Probably the most ticklish situation in all reporting is here. To
make a person tell what he knows without knowing that he is telling is
the pinnacle of the art of interviewing. As Mr. Richard Harding Davis
has so exactly expressed it:
Reporters become star reporters because they observe things that
other people miss and because they do not let it appear that
they have observed them. When the great man who is being
interviewed blurts out that which is indiscreet but most
important, the cub reporter says: "That's most interesting, sir.
I'll make a note of that." And so warns the great man into
silence. But the star reporter receives the indiscreet utterance
as though it bored him; and the great man does not know he has
blundered until he reads of it the next morning under screaming
headlines.[4]
[4] _The Red Cross Girl_, p. 7.
It is for such reasons that a quick perception of news even in chance
remarks is a requisite for interviewing. If one does not grasp instantly
the value of a bit of information, the expression of his face or his
actions will give him away later when a full realization of the worth of
the news comes to him, or else he will not be able to recall precisely
the facts given.
=75. Retentive Memory.=--It is for the same reason, too, that a
retentive memory is necessary. Fifty per cent of those interviewed will
be frightened at the sight of a notebook. And all men become cautious
when they realize that their statements are being taken down word for
word. The reporter must correlate properly and keep firmly in mind the
facts gleaned in the interview, then get as quickly as possible to some
place where he can record what he has learned. Many an interviewer will
listen a half-hour without taking a note, then spend the next half-hour
on a horse-block or a curb writing down what the person interviewed has
said. Other reporters with shorter memories carry pencil stubs and bits
of specially cut white cardboard, and while looking the interviewed man
in the eye, take down statistics and characteristic phrases on the
cards. Some even, as on the stage and in the moving pictures, take
occasional notes on their cuffs,--all this in an effort to make the one
interviewed talk unrestrainedly.
=76. Use of Shorthand.=--A word may be said here concerning shorthand.
Its use in interviewing and in general news reports should not be too
much encouraged, even when a man is entirely willing to have his exact
words recorded. Often it deadens the presentation of news. Shorthand has
its value as far as accuracy and record of occasional statements are
concerned, and may well be used, but its too faithful use has a tendency
to take from news stories the imagination that is necessary for a
complete and truthful presentation. The stenographic reporter becomes so
intent upon the words of the person he is quoting that he misses the
spirit of the interview and is liable to produce a formal, lifeless
story. The reporter may well use shorthand as a walking cane, but not as
a crutch.
=77. Precise Questions in Interviews.=--If one finds exactness of
statement a requisite, one may obtain shorthand results by bringing
along a sheet of typewritten questions for submission to the person
interviewed. These questions the person must answer definitely or else
evade, in either case furnishing story material. But whether a reporter
comes armed with such a list of questions or not, he must at least have
definitely in mind the exact purpose of his visit and the precise
questions he wants answered. In the majority of cases the reason that
interviewers meet with such unwelcome receptions from great men is that
the latter are too busy to waste time with pottering reporters.
Certainly the men themselves say so. President Wilson declares that of
the visitors to the White House not one in ten knows precisely why he
has come, states definitely what he wants, and leaves promptly when he
has finished. Such persons are an annoyance to busy men and women, and
the newspaper man who can dispatch quickly the business of his visit
will more likely meet with a favorable reception next time.
=78. Learning a Man's Career.=--As an aid to interviewing prominent men,
whether one typewrites one's questions in advance or merely determines
what in general one will ask, the reporter should have a good general
knowledge of the man's career and what he has accomplished in his
particular field, so that the noted man may not be forced to go too much
into detail to make his conversation clear to the interviewer. Some men
seem annoyed when asked to explain technical terms or to review
well-known incidents in their lives. Such facts may be obtained from the
files of the morgue, from encyclopedias, from the _Who's Who_ volumes,
and from local men associated in the same kind of work. Frequently one
will find it advisable to consult the city editor and other members of
the staff, as well as local or less known men, by way of preparation for
interviewing a prominent visitor.
=79. Ability to Detect Falsehood.=--The fifth requirement for successful
interviewing, and the last to be discussed in this chapter,[5] is the
ability to detect falsehood readily. All persons who talk for
publication speak with a purpose. Sometimes they talk for
self-exploitation; occasionally they wish to pay a grudge against
another man. Sometimes their purpose is what they say it is; often it is
not. Sometimes they tell the exact truth; frequently they do not, even
when they think they are speaking truthfully. It may seem odd, but it is
true that comparatively few of the persons one questions about even the
most commonplace occurrences can give unbiased reports of events. They
were too much excited over the affair to observe accurately, or they are
too much prejudiced for or against the persons involved to witness
judicially. The reporter, therefore, must take into consideration their
mental caliber and every possible motive they may have for acting or
speaking as they do. If the person who met the reporter a moment ago at
Mr. Davidson's door was his wife and she refused to talk about the
shooting, or said he was not shot, she evidently had a motive for her
statement. And if the woman next door recounts with too much relish and
in too high-pitched tones the cat-and-dog life of the Davidsons or their
declared intentions each of killing the other, the reporter had better
take care. She is probably venting an old-time grudge against her
neighbors, whose son last month broke a window-pane in her house.
Countless libel suits might have been avoided had the reporters been
able to detect falsehood more readily.
[5] The value of characteristic phrases and gestures
in the interview is discussed on page 130.
=80. Questioning Everyone.=--Because of these sharp discrepancies in
men's natures and the fact that everyone sees an event from his own
individual angle, it is necessary for a reporter to question everybody
in any way connected with a story. He should see not only Mr. and Mrs.
Davidson, if possible, but other witnesses of the shooting,
acquaintances in the neighborhood, the servants in the house, and anyone
else, no matter how humble, likely in any way to be connected with or to
have knowledge of the occurrence. Oftentimes a janitor, a maid, or a
chauffeur will divulge facts that the mistress or the detective bureau
would not disclose for large sums of money. Frequently a child in the
yard or on the back steps will give invaluable information. This is
particularly true when the older persons are attempting to conceal facts
or are too much excited from a death or an accident to talk. Children
usually are less unstrung by distressing events and can give a more
connected account. Moreover, they are almost always willing to talk, and
they generally try to tell the truth.
=81. A Person's Previous Record.=--It is also well to inquire
particularly about the past history or the previous record of the person
involved. If the woman is a divorcee or the man an ex-convict, or if one
of the children previously has been arraigned in police court for
delinquency, or if any one of the participants has ever been drawn into
public notice, such items will be worth much in identifying the
characters in the story. If the man whose house is burning lost another
house, well insured, a year ago; if the widow has married secretly her
chauffeur two months after her husband's sudden death from ptomaine
poisoning; if the man who spoke last night was the preacher who declared
all protestant churches will some day return to the confessional;--if
such facts can be obtained, they will add greatly to the interest and
the value of the story, and the reporter should make every effort to
obtain them. Their interest lies, of course, either in the fact that
they aid the public in identifying the persons, or that they provide
material for interesting conjectures as to probable results. Sometimes,
indeed, this correlation of present and past facts grows so important
that it becomes the main story.
=82. Full Details.=--While questioning different persons in an attempt
to get all the facts, one should take care to record all details. It is
far easier to throw away unneeded material when writing up the events
than to return to the scene for neglected information. In particular,
one should learn the name and address of every person in any way
connected with the story, no matter how much trouble it may require to
get the information. A man who is merely incidental at the beginning of
the inquiry may prove of prime importance an hour later or in the
follow-up next day. Even the telephone number of persons likely in any
way to become prominent--or where such persons may be reached by
telephone--should be obtained. For, try as one will to get all the
facts, one often needs to get additional information after returning to
the office. In such a plight, it is of great value to know where a man
may be reached who does not have a telephone in his own home. Pictures,
too, of the persons concerned are valuable. The news-reading public
likes illustrations, and whether the photograph is or is not used, it is
easily returnable by next day's mail. All papers promise to return
photographs unharmed.
=83. Getting Names Correctly.=--It would seem unnecessary to urge the
necessity of getting initials and street addresses and of spelling
names correctly; yet so many newspaper men err here that specific
attention must be directed to it. Numerous libel suits have been started
because a reporter got an initial or a street address wrong and there
happened to be in the city another person with the printed name and
street address. Even if the story does not contain cause for libel, a
person whose name has been misspelled never quite forgives a journal for
getting it wrong. The reporter should remember that many of the Smiths
in the world are Smythes in print and many of the Catherines spell it
Katharyne in the city directory. And such persons are sensitive.
=84. Speeches.=--In covering speeches the reporter should make an effort
to get advance copies of what the speaker intends to say,--and a
photograph of him if he is an important personage. A large per cent of
the impassioned and seemingly spontaneous bursts of oratory that one
hears on church, lecture, and political platforms are but verbal
reproductions of typewritten manuscript in the speaker's inside coat
pocket, and if the newspaper man will ask for carbon copies of the
oratory, the lecturer will be glad to provide them in advance,--in order
to have himself quoted correctly. He will also be glad to provide the
photograph. These advance copies of speeches are called "release"
stories. That is, they are marked at the top of the first page,
"Release, June 12, 9:30 P.M.," meaning that no publication shall be made
of that material before 9:30 P.M. of June 12. Newspapers always regard
scrupulously a release date, and a reporter need never hesitate to give
his word that publication of speeches, messages, and reports will be
withheld until after delivery. An editor of a paper in the Middle West
once thought to scoop the world by printing the President's message to
Congress the evening before its delivery, but he was so promptly barred
from the telegraphic wires thereafter that he paid dearly for his
violation of professional honor. With these advance copies of speeches
in his possession the reporter may write at his own convenience his
account of the lecture; or if he is rushed--and has the permission of
the city editor--he may even stay away from the meeting. On the other
hand, if the speaker is of national importance, it may be well to
consult with the city editor about going out fifty miles or more to
catch the train on which the distinguished guest is coming. In this way
one can have an interview ready for publication by the time the great
man arrives and sometimes can obtain a valuable scoop on rival papers.
=85. Attending Lectures.= Where one is not able to get a typewritten
copy of a speech, the only alternative is to attend the lecture.
Newspaper men usually are provided with free tickets, which they should
obtain in advance, as the rush of the lecture hour throws unexpected
duties on those responsible for the program, and one may sometimes be
considerably inconvenienced in getting an admission card. Inside there
is generally a table close to the platform, where newspaper men may
write comfortably. If the reporter has been given an advance copy of the
speech, he should listen closely for any variations from the typewritten
manuscript, as speakers in the excitement resulting from the applause or
disapproval of the audience often lose their heads and make indiscreet
statements or disclose state secrets that furnish the best story
material for the paper next morning. If one does not have an advance
copy, one should attempt to get the speech by topics, with occasional
verbatim passages of particularly pithy or dynamic passages. As in the
case of interviews, it is better not to attempt to take too much of the
lecture word for word. The significance, the spirit of the address is of
greater worth than mere literalness. If the city editor wants a verbatim
report, he will send a stenographer.
=86. A Newspaper Man's Honor.=--In conclusion, emphasis may be laid on
the reporter's attitude toward obtaining news. He must go after a story
with the determination to get it and to get it honorably. Once he has
started after an item, he must not give up until he has succeeded. But
he must succeed with honor. Stories are rampant over the United States
of newspaper men stealing through basement windows at night, listening
at keyholes, bribing jurymen to break their oath, and otherwise
transgressing the limits of law and honor. But the day of such
reportorial methods has passed. To-day a newspaper expects every man on
its staff to be a gentleman. It wants no lawbreakers or sneaks. Stories
must be obtained honestly and written up honestly. The man who fakes a
story or willfully distorts facts for the sake of injuring a man or
making a good news article will be discharged from any reputable
newspaper in America. And he ought to be.
VIII. ORGANIZATION OF THE STORY
=87. On the Way to the Office.=--The organization of the news material
before beginning to write makes for speed, accuracy, and interest. On
the way back to the office the reporter must employ his time as
profitably as when getting the news, so that when he enters the city
room he may have his facts arranged for developing into story form and
may be able to hang his article on the city editor's hook in the
briefest time possible.
=88. Speed.=--Next to accuracy, speed is a newspaper man's most valuable
asset. Some journalists even put speed first, and Mr. Thomas Herbert
Warren but voiced the opinion of many of the fraternity when he wrote,
Thrice blessed he whose statements we can trust,
But four times he who gets his news in fust.
When the reporter starts back to the office, he has in his pocket a mass
of jumbled facts, most of which have a bearing on the prospective story,
but many of which have not. Even those facts that are relevant are
scattered confusedly among the different sheets, so that in order to
write his story he must first rearrange his notes entirely. He may
regroup these mentally while writing, by jumping with his eye up and
down the pages, hunting on the backs of some sheets, and twisting his
head sideways to get notes written crosswise on others. But all this
takes valuable time,--so much, indeed, that the wise reporter will have
on hand, either in his mind or on paper, a definite plan for his story.
=89. Accuracy.=--That the reorganization of one's notes preparatory to
writing will aid accuracy of statement and of presentation needs little
argument. To paraphrase Herbert Spencer's words on reading: A reporter
has at each moment but a limited amount of mental power available. To
recognize and interpret the facts recorded in his notes requires part of
his power; to strike in ordered sequence the typewriter keys that will
put those facts on paper requires an additional part; and only that part
which remains can be used for putting his ideas into forceful, accurate
sentences. Hence, the more time and attention it takes to read and
understand one's notes, the less time and attention can be given to
expressing the ideas, and the less vividly will those ideas be
presented. Moreover, when a writer attempts to compose from jumbled
notes, because of his attention being riveted on expressing clearly and
forcefully what he has jotted down, he is liable to include in his story
facts that do not properly belong there, or to omit some illegibly
written but important item, and so fail to present the incidents fairly
and accurately.
=90. Interest.=--Finally, the third reason for ordering one's notes
carefully before writing is to insure interest to the reader. The same
story almost always can be presented in several different ways. Every
story, too, must possess a specific point, a _raison d'être_: as, the
heinousness of the crime, the cleverness of the brigands, the loneliness
of the widow. This _point_ of the story, this angle from which the
reporter writes, is determined largely by the writer's selection of
details, which in turn is dominated by the policy of the paper and the
interest of the readers. If the paper and its patrons care particularly
for humorous stories, certain dolorous facts are omitted or placed in
unimportant positions, and the readers have a fair but amusing view of
the occurrence. If they favor sob stories, the same incident, by a
different selection or arrangement of details, may be made pathetic. But
the reporter must select his details with such a purpose in mind. And
unless he has some such definite motive and has so organized his
material before beginning to write, he will present a more or less
prosaic narrative of events with little specific appeal to the reader.
Of course, one oftentimes is too rushed to take so much care in
preparation for writing. Frequently, indeed, a reporter cannot wait
until he can get back to the office, but must telephone the facts in to
a rewrite man, who will put them into story form. But it is fair to say
that the discerning reporter never idles away his time in the smoking
compartment of the car when returning with a story. His mind is, and
should be, engrossed with the story, which he should strive to make so
good that it will appear on the front page of the paper.
=91. Four Orders of Organization.=--In organizing material for writing,
one may adopt any one or a combination of four different orders: time
order, space order, climactic order, complex order. Of these, probably
ninety-five per cent of all the news stories published are organized on
the time order or a combination of it with one or more of the other
three. Of the remaining three, probably four per cent of the stories are
written in the climactic order, leaving only about one per cent for the
space and complex orders. Numerous articles, of course, are a
combination of two or more of these orders.
=92. Time Order.=--The time order is a simple chronological arrangement
of the incidents, as illustrated in the following:
=BOY BURNS TOES IN BED=
|Fearing the wrath of his father, Kenneth Cavert, |
|5-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. George Cavert, Rankin|
|and Franklin streets, suffered in silence while fire|
|in his bed Friday evening painfully burned two of |
|his toes and caused severe burns on his body. |
| |
|The lad went to bed shortly after dark Friday |
|evening. About a half-hour later he went downstairs |
|for a drink. A few minutes later he went down again |
|for a drink. |
| |
|Shortly afterward Mr. and Mrs. Cavert smelled cloth |
|burning in the house, and going upstairs to |
|investigate, found the boy in bed, wide awake, the |
|blankets in flames, which surrounded the lad and had|
|already seared his toes. One of the bed rails was |
|burned almost in two and the bed clothing ruined. |
| |
|The lad afterward said he went downstairs to get a |
|mouthful of water to spit on the flames. "I spit as |
|hard as I could," said he, "but I couldn't put out |
|the fire." |
| |
|Although he will not tell how the fire started, it |
|is supposed he was playing with matches.[6] |
[6] _Appleton_ (Wisconsin) _Daily Post_, October 14, 1915.
=93. Space Order.=--The space order explains itself, being nothing else
than descriptive writing. The following story of the _Eastland_ disaster
in 1915 illustrates the space order:
=VICTIMS' PROPERTY LISTED=
|A line of showcases extends down the center of the |
|public hearing room on the first floor of the city |
|hall. Arranged for display are a hundred or more |
|cameras of all sizes, thermos bottles, purses, hand |
|bags, and even a snare drum. |
| |
|Around the room are racks on which are hanging |
|cloaks and coats, here a red sweater, there a white |
|corduroy cloak. Under them are heaps of hats, mostly|
|men's straw, obviously of this year's make. There |
|are several hundred women's headgear, decorated with|
|feathers and ribbons. |
| |
|Along one side are piled suit cases and satchels, |
|open for inspection. They are packed for departure |
|with toothbrushes and toothpaste, packages of gum, |
|tobacco and books. A dozen baseball bats are leaning|
|against one of the pillars near the end of the |
|showcase. There are several uniforms to be worn by |
|bandmen. In the extreme corner, surrounded by |
|hundreds of shoes, of all kinds, is a collapsible |
|go-cart. |
| |
|De Witt C. Cregier, city collector, stood behind one|
|of the showcases yesterday afternoon, with a |
|jeweler's glass, examining bits of ornament. |
| |
|Piled before him in long rows were envelops. One by |
|one, he or his assistants dumped the contents on the|
|glass case and read off descriptions of each article|
|to a stenographer: |
| |
|"One pocket mirror, picture of girl on back; one |
|amethyst filigree pendant; one round gold embossed |
|bracelet; gold bow eye-glasses; Hawthorne club badge|
|attached to fob; two $1 bills." |
| |
|As the articles were listed they were put back into |
|the envelops. Had it not been for one circumstance, |
|it might have been a pawnshop inventory. |
| |
|There was the jewelry worth more than $10,000, |
|articles for personal use, and musical instruments. |
|But under the long rows of coats, hats, and shoes, |
|there was a pool of water. It dripped from the red |
|sweater onto a straw hat beneath. It fell into shoes|
|and the place smelled of wet leather. |
| |
|When the bodies of those who perished in the |
|_Eastland_ disaster were removed from the water, |
|their clothing and jewelry were taken by the police |
|and tabulated. There was no space in the custodian's|
|office; so he hastily fitted up the public |
|hearing-room, brought in showcases and had |
|carpenters build racks for the clothing....[7] |
[7] _Chicago Tribune_, July 26, 1915.
=94. Climactic Order.=--The climactic order is that in which the
incidents are so arranged that the reader shall not know the outcome
until he reaches the last one or two sentences. The following story,
though brief, illustrates well the climactic order of arrangement:
=VALUED A DRESS ABOVE LIFE=
|First, there was the young man. One night, while |
|they were on the way to a movie, Ambrosia noticed |
|the young man was looking rather critically at her |
|dress. |
| |
|When one is 17 and lives in a big city where there |
|are any number of girls just as good looking, |
|besides a lot who are better looking, it is a |
|serious matter when a young man begins to look |
|critically at one's dress. |
| |
|Particularly is it serious when the acquisition of a|
|new dress is a matter of much painstaking planning; |
|of dispensing with this or that at luncheon; of |
|walking to work every day instead of only when the |
|weather is fine; and of other painful sacrifices. |
| |
|Ambrosia didn't say anything. She pretended she |
|hadn't noticed the young man's look. But that night,|
|in her room on East Thirteenth Street, Ambrosia |
|indulged in some higher mathematics. It might as |
|well be vouchsafed here that the address on East |
|Thirteenth Street is 1315, and that Ambrosia's name |
|is Dallard, and that she is an operator for the Bell|
|Telephone Company. The net result of her |
|calculations was that, no matter how hard she saved,|
|she wouldn't be able to buy a new dress until |
|December or January. Meanwhile,--but Ambrosia knew |
|there couldn't be any meanwhile. She had to have |
|that dress. |
| |
|Ambrosia found a card, and on it was the name of a |
|firm which ardently assured her it wanted to afford |
|her credit. Then there was a little something about |
|a dollar down and a dollar a week until paid for. |
| |
|So Ambrosia got her dress. It had cost her $1, and |
|it would be entirely hers when she had paid $14 |
|more. Ambrosia wore it to a movie and the young man |
|admiringly informed her she "was all dolled up." And|
|everyone was happy. |
| |
|One never can tell about dresses, though; |
|particularly $15 ones. One night, when Ambrosia was |
|wearing the new possession for the third time, it |
|developed a long rip. The cloth was defective. |
| |
|Ambrosia took the dress back. The installment firm |
|was sorry, but could do nothing, and of course the |
|firm expected her to keep paying for it. |
| |
|Ambrosia left the dress, and went back to her old |
|one. The young man noticed it the next time they |
|went out together. Shortly afterward, when he should|
|have called, he didn't. A collector for the |
|installment house did, though. Meanwhile, Ambrosia |
|was saving to buy another dress. She was quite |
|emphatic about the bill from the installment |
|house--she wouldn't pay it. |
| |
|Once in awhile she saw the young man, but she didn't|
|care for more calls until the new dress was |
|forthcoming. |
| |
|Tuesday it looked as if everything would come out |
|all right. She had $9 saved. Wednesday she would |
|draw her salary--$6. She knew where she could buy |
|just what she wanted for $12.50. It was much better |
|looking than the old dress and better material. She |
|even made an anticipatory engagement with the young |
|man. |
| |
|Wednesday came--Ambrosia went to draw her salary. |
|The installment house had garnisheed it. |
| |
|To-day Ambrosia's job is being kept open by the |
|telephone company, and it is thought some |
|arrangement may be made by which the installment |
|house will not garnishee her salary next week. |
| |
|At the General Hospital she is reported as resting |
|well. She was taken there in an ambulance yesterday |
|afternoon after trying to kill herself by inhaling |
|chloroform.[8] |
[8] _Kansas City Star_, January 1, 1917.
=95. Complex Order.=--The complex order, sometimes called the order of
increasing complication, is that in which the writer proceeds from the
known to the unknown. Generally a story following this method of
organization is nothing else than simple exposition. The following
Associated Press story illustrates the type:
=AËRIAL TORPEDO BOAT INVENTED=
[_By Associated Press._]
|Washington, July 22.--An aërial torpedo boat for |
|attack on ships in protected harbors is projected, |
|it was learned to-day, in patents just issued to |
|Rear Admiral Bradley A. Fiske, now attached to the |
|navy war college, but formerly aid for operations to|
|Secretary Daniels. |
| |
|The plan contemplates equipping a monster aeroplane,|
|similar to a number now under construction in this |
|country for the British government, with a Whitehead|
|torpedo of regulation navy type. |
| |
|Swooping down at a distance of five sea miles from |
|the object of attack, the air craft would drop its |
|deadly passenger into the water just as it would |
|have been launched from a destroyer. The impact sets|
|the torpedo's machinery in motion and it is off at a|
|speed of more than forty knots an hour toward the |
|enemy ship. |
| |
|Admiral Fiske believes the flying torpedo boat would|
|make it possible to attack a fleet even within a |
|landlocked harbor. The range of the newest navy |
|torpedoes is ten thousand yards and even the older |
|types will be effective at seven thousand yards. |
| |
|Carried on a huge aeroplane, the 2,000 pound weapon |
|would be taken over harbor defenses at an altitude |
|safe from gunfire. Once over the bay, the machine |
|would glide down to within ten or twenty feet of |
|water, the torpedo rudders would be set and it would|
|be dropped to do its work while the aeroplane arose |
|and sped away.[9] |
[9] _Minneapolis Tribune_, July 22, 1915.
=96. Climactic Order Difficult.=--Of the four organization plans, the
hardest by far to develop is the climactic order, which should be
avoided by young reporters. This method of arrangement is on the
short-story order, and the beginner will find it difficult to group his
incidents so that each shall lead up to and explain those following and
at the same time add to the reader's interest. Some papers as yet admit
only rarely the story developed climactically, but it is growing in
popularity and the reporter should know how to handle it.
=97. Important Details.=--With the climactic order of arrangement
eliminated, the reporter is practically limited to the simple time
order, or a combination of it with one of the other two kinds,--which is
the normal type of story. But he must keep in mind one other factor,--to
place the most important details first and the least important last.
There are two reasons why this method of arrangement is necessary. In
the first place, readers want all the main details first, so that they
may learn immediately whether or not they are interested in the story
and if it will be worth their while to read the whole article. They are
too busy to read everything in the paper; they can choose only those
stories that excite their interest. If, therefore, they can learn in the
first paragraph what the whole story is about, they will not be delayed
and fatigued unnecessarily by reading non-essentials with the hope of
finding something worth while.
=98. Unimportant Details.=--The second reason for such an organization
is that stories appearing in the early editions have to be cut down to
fit into the more valuable and limited space of the later issues. At the
beginning of the day news is relatively scarce, and the front-page,
left-hand column of the first edition may carry a story that will be cut
in half in the city edition and be relegated to an inside page. More
important news has come in as the day has aged. A reporter, therefore,
must plan his stories with a view to having the last part, if necessary,
cut off,--so that, indeed, if the news editor should prune the story
down to only the first paragraph, the reader would still be given the
gist of what has happened. Note the following story, how it may be cut
off at any paragraph and still present a perfect, though less imposing
whole:
=SCHOOLBOY SUES BRIDE, AGED 40=
|Villisca, Ia., Dec. 27.--Claude Bates, 17 years old |
|and formerly of Villisca, has brought suit in Polk |
|county for the annulment of his marriage to the |
|widow Patrick, 40 years old and the mother of four |
|children, two of whom are older than their |
|stepfather. |
| |
|Bates is still in school, and became acquainted with|
|the widow when he went to her home to call on one of|
|her daughters. According to the petition, young |
|Bates made such a hit with the mother of his best |
|girl that she herself fell in love with him, and was|
|soon a rival of her own daughter. The older woman |
|knew many tricks with which the daughter was |
|unacquainted, and in the end she managed to "bag" |
|the game. |
| |
|The marriage, which took place in Chicago, was kept |
|a secret even after the couple returned home, and it|
|was not until young Bates told the whole story to |
|his mamma a few days ago that his family had an |
|inkling of the true state of affairs. Now the suit |
|has been filed by the boy's mother, because the |
|young husband himself is too young to go into court |
|without a guardian. |
| |
|As one of the causes of the suit, the petition cites|
|that Bates was inveigled into the marriage through |
|"the wiles, artifices, and protestations of love" on|
|the part of the widow. Furthermore, the petition |
|charges that the two were married under assumed |
|names, that their ages were falsely given, and that |
|their residences, as given the marriage clerk, were |
|false. |
| |
|According to the petition, young Bates was attending|
|school, where he met Mrs. Patrick's daughter and |
|fell in love with her. He called at the house and |
|met the mother, who was divorced from her first |
|husband some ten years ago. There were four of the |
|Patrick children, their ages being 13, 15, 17, and |
|20 years. Bates himself was just 15 at that time. |
|The petition sets up that almost immediately after |
|becoming acquainted with Mrs. Patrick the latter |
|began her attempts to induce young Bates to marry |
|her.[10] |
[10] _Des Moines Register_, December 27, 1914.
=99. Accuracy of Presentation.=--One very definite caution must be given
concerning the organization of the story,--the necessity of presenting
facts with judicial impartiality. When the reporter is arranging his
material preparatory to writing, casting away a note here and jotting
down another there, he can easily warp the whole narrative by an unfair
arrangement of details or a prejudiced point of view. Frequently a story
may be woefully distorted by the mere suppression of a single fact. A
newspaper man has no right willfully to keep back information or to
distort news. Unbiased stories, or stories as nearly unbiased as
possible, are what newspapers want. And while one may legitimately order
one's topics to produce a particular effect of humor, pathos, joy, or
sorrow, one should never allow the desire for an effect to distort the
presentation of the facts.
IX. THE LEAD[11]
[11] Before reading this chapter, the student should examine
the style book in the Appendix, particularly that part
dealing with the preparation of copy for the city desk.
=100. Instructions from the City Editor.=--Before beginning the story,
the reporter should stop at the city editor's desk, give him in as few
words as possible an account of what he has learned, and ask for
instructions about handling the story, about any feature or features to
play up. The city editor may not offer any advice at all, may simply say
to write the story for what it is worth. In such a case, the reporter is
at liberty to go ahead as he has planned; and he should have his copy on
the city editor's desk within a very few minutes. The city editor,
however, may tell him to feature a certain incident and to write it up
humorously. If the reporter has observed keenly, he himself will already
have chosen the same incident and may still proceed with the writing as
he planned on the way back to the office. A careful study of
instructions given reporters will quickly convince one, however, that in
nine cases out of ten the city editor takes his cue from the reporter
himself, that in the reporter's very mood and method of recounting what
he has learned, he suggests to the city editor the features and the tone
of the story, and is merely given back his own opinion verified. Not
always is this the case, however. One reporter on a Southern daily--and
a star man, too--used to say that he could never predict what his city
editor would want featured. So he used always to come into the office
armed with two leads, and sometimes with three.
=101. Two Kinds of Leads.=--The story, technically, is made up of two
parts--the lead and the body. The lead is easily the more important. If
a reporter can handle successfully this part of the story, he will have
little trouble in writing the whole. The lead is the first sentence or
the first group of sentences in the story and is of two kinds, the
summarizing lead and what may be called the informal lead. The
summarizing lead gives in interesting, concise language the gist of the
story. The informal lead merely introduces the reader to the story
without intimating anything of the outcome, but with a suggestion that
something interesting is coming. Of the two types the summarizing lead
is by far the more common and may be considered first.
=102. Summarizing Lead.=--The summarizing lead may be a single sentence
or a single paragraph, or two or three paragraphs, according to the
number and complexity of the details in the story. A brief story usually
has a short lead. A long, involved story made up of several parts, each
under a separate head, often has a lead consisting of several
paragraphs. Sometimes this lead, because of its importance as a summary
of all the details in the story, is even boxed and printed in black-face
type at the beginning of the story. Then follow the different parts,
each division with its own individual lead.
=103. Contents of the Lead.=--What to put into the lead,--or to feature,
as reporters express it in newspaper parlance,--one may best determine
by asking oneself what in the story is likely to be of greatest interest
to one's readers in general. Whatever that feature is, it should be
played up in the lead. The first and great commandment in news writing
is that the story begin with the most important fact and give all the
essential details first. These details are generally summarized in the
questions _who_, _what_, _when_, _where_, _why_, and _how_. If the
writer sees that his lead answers these questions, he may be positive
that, so far as context is concerned, his lead will be good.
=104. Construction of the Lead.=--In constructing the lead, the most
important fact or facts should be put at the very first. For this
reason, newspaper men avoid beginning a story with _to-day_,
_to-morrow_, or _yesterday_, because the time at which an incident has
occurred is rarely the most important fact. For the same reason, careful
writers avoid starting with _the_, _an_, or _a_, though it often is
necessary to begin with these articles because the noun they modify is
itself important. The name of the place, too, rarely ever is of enough
importance to be put first. An examination of a large number of leads in
the best newspapers shows that the features most often played up are the
result and the cause or motive. Thus:
=Result=
|As a result of too much thanksgiving on Thanksgiving|
|Day, Prof. Harry Z. Buith, 42, 488 Sixteenth Street,|
|a prominent Seventh Day Adventist, is dead. |
=Cause=
|Just plain ordinary geese and a few ganders held up |
|a train on the Milwaukee road to-day and forced |
|their owner, Nepomcyk Kucharski, 1287 Fourth Avenue,|
|into district court. |
=Cause and Result=
|Because Harry A. Harries, 24, 2518 North Avenue, |
|wanted two dollars for a license to marry Anna |
|Francis, 17, 4042 Peachtree Avenue, his aged mother |
|is dying this morning in St. Elizabeth Hospital. |
Sometimes, particularly in follow or rewrite stories, probable results
become the feature.
=Probable Results=
|That immediate intervention in Mexico by the United |
|States will be the result of the Villa raid last |
|night on Columbus, N.M., is the general belief in |
|official Washington this morning. |
Another feature often played up in leads is the means or method by which
a result was attained.
=Means=
|A sensational half-mashie shot to the lip of the cup|
|on the eighteenth green won to-day for Mrs. Roland |
|H. Barlow, of the Merion Cricket Club, Philadelphia,|
|over Miss Lillian B. Hyde, of the South Shore Field |
|Club, Long Island, in the second round of the |
|women's national golf championship tournament at the|
|Onwentsia Club. |
=Method=
|Working at night with a tin spoon and a wire nail, |
|Capt. Wilhelm Schuettler dug 100 feet to liberty and|
|escaped from the Hallamshire camp sometime early |
|this morning. |
Often it is necessary to feature the name:
=Name=
|Cardinal Giacomo della Chiesa, archbishop of |
|Bologna, Italy, was to-day elected supreme pontiff |
|of the Catholic hierarchy, in succession to the late|
|Pope Pius X, who died Aug. 20. He will reign under |
|the name of Benedict XV. |
=Name=
|President Wilson and Mrs. Norman Galt have selected |
|Saturday, Dec. 18, as the date of their marriage. |
|The ceremony will be performed in Mrs. Galt's |
|residence, and the guests will be confined to the |
|immediate members of the President's and Mrs. Galt's|
|families. |
Even the place and the time have to be featured occasionally.
=Place=
|New Orleans will be the place of the annual meeting |
|of the Southern Congress of Education and Industry, |
|it was learned from a member of the Executive |
|committee to-day. |
=Place=
|Chicago was selected by the Republican National |
|committee to-night as the meeting place of the 1916 |
|Republican national convention, to be held June 7, |
|one week before the Democratic convention in St. |
|Louis. |
=Time=
|Monday, Sept. 20, is the date finally set for the |
|opening of the State Fair, it was announced by the |
|Program Committee to-day. |
=105. Form of the Lead.=--The grammatical form in which the lead shall
be written depends much on the purpose of the writer. Some of the
commonest types of beginnings are with: (1) a simple statement; (2) a
series of simple statements; (3) a conditional clause; (4) a substantive
clause; (5) an infinitive phrase; (6) a participial phrase; (7) a
prepositional phrase; (8) the absolute construction.
=106. Leads with Short Sentences.=--The value of the first two kinds is
their forcefulness. Often reporters break what might be a long,
one-sentence, summarizing lead into a very short sentence followed by a
long one, or into a number of brief sentences, each of which gives one
important detail. Such a type of lead gains its force from the fact that
it lends emphasis to the individual details given in the short
sentences. Note the effect of the following leads:
OAK PARK HAS A "TYPHOID MARY"
|The epidemic of fever that has been sweeping through|
|the western suburb since the high school banquet |
|more than a month ago was traced yesterday to a |
|woman carrier who handled the food in the school |
|restaurant. |
|George Edward Waddell, our famous "Rube," fanned out|
|to-day. It was not the first time Rube had fanned, |
|but it will be his last. Tuberculosis claimed him |
|after a two-year fight. |
|If Mrs. Mary McCormick sneezes or coughs, she will |
|die. Her back was broken yesterday by a fall from a |
|third-story window. Thomas Wilson is being held |
|under a $5,000 bond pending her death or recovery, |
|charged by the police with pushing her from the |
|window. |
=107. Lead Beginning with a Conditional Clause=--The lead beginning with
a conditional clause is valuable for humorous effects or for summarizing
facts leading up to a story. As a rule, however, one must avoid using
more than two such clauses, as they are liable to make the sentence
heavy or obscure.
|If Antony Fisher, 36, 1946 Garden Street, had not |
|written Dorothy Clemens she was a "little love," he |
|would be worth $1,000,000 now. But he wrote Dorothy |
|she was a little love. |
|If Joe Kasamowitz, 4236 Queen's Avenue, speaks to |
|his wife either at her home or at the news-stand she|
|conducts at the St. Paul Hotel; if he loiters near |
|the entrance to the hotel; or if he even attempts to|
|call his wife over the telephone before Saturday, he|
|will be in contempt of court, according to an |
|injunction issued to-day by Judge Fish. |
=108. Lead Beginning with a Substantive Clause.=--The substantive clause
has two main values in the lead,--to enable the writer to begin with a
direct or an indirect question, and to permit him to shift to the very
beginning of the lead important ideas that would normally come at the
end of the sentence.
|That Jim Jeffries was the greatest fighter in the |
|history of pugilism and Jim Corbett the best boxer, |
|was the statement last night by Bob Fitzsimmons |
|before a crowd of 5,000 at the Orpheum theater. |
|That he had refused to kiss her on her return from a|
|long visit and had said he was tired of being |
|married, was the testimony of Mrs. Flora Eastman |
|to-day in her divorce suit against Edwin O. Eastman,|
|of St. Louis. |
=109. Lead Beginning with a Phrase.=--Infinitive, participial, and
prepositional phrases are valuable mainly for bringing out emphatic
details. But the writer must be careful, particularly in participial
constructions, to see that the phrases have definite words to modify.
|To see if the bullet was coming was the reason |
|Charlie Roberts, aged 7, 2626 Ninth Street, looked |
|down his father's pistol barrel at 8:00 A.M. to-day.|
|Playing with a rifle longer than his body, |
|three-year-old Ernest Rodriguez, of Los Angeles, |
|accidentally shot himself in the abdomen this |
|morning and is dying in the county hospital. |
|Almost blinded with carbolic acid, Fritz Storungot, |
|of South Haven, groped his way to Patrolman Emil |
|Schulz at Third Street and Brand Avenue last night |
|and begged to be sent to the Emergency Hospital. |
|With her hands and feet tied, Ida Elionsky, 16, swam|
|in the roughest kind of water through Hell Gate |
|yesterday, landing safely at Blackwell's Island. |
=110. Lead Beginning with Absolute Construction.=--The absolute
construction usually features causes and motives forcibly, but it should
be avoided by beginners, as it is un-English and tends to make sentences
unwieldy. The following illustrates the construction well:
|Her money gone and her baby starving, Mrs. Kate |
|Allen, 8 Marvin Alley, begged fifteen cents of a |
|stranger yesterday to poison herself and child. |
=111. Accuracy and Interest in the Lead.=--The two requirements made of
the lead are that it shall possess accuracy and interest. It must have
accuracy for the sake of truth. It must possess interest to lure the
reader to a perusal of the story. Toward an attainment of both these
requirements the reporter will have made the first step if he has
organized his material rightly, putting at the beginning those facts
that will be of most interest to his readers.
=112. Clearness.=--But the reporter will still fail of his purpose if he
neglects to make his lead clear. He must guard against any construction
or the inclusion of any detail that is liable to blur the absolute
clarity of his initial sentences. In particular, he must be wary of
overloaded leads, those crowded with details. It is better to cut such
leads into two or more short, crisp sentences than to permit them to be
published with the possibility of not being understood. If a reader
cannot grasp readily the lead, the chances are nine out of ten that he
will not read the story. Note the following overloaded lead and its
improvement by being cut into three sentences:
|Barely able to see out of her swollen and discolored|
|eyes, and her face and body covered with cuts and |
|bruises, received, it is alleged, when her father |
|attacked her because of her failure to secure work, |
|Mary Ellis, 15 years old, living at 1864 Brown |
|Street, when placed on the witness stand Monday, |
|told a story which resulted in Peter Ellis, her |
|father, being arrested on a charge of assault with |
|intent to do great bodily harm. |
|Charged with beating unmercifully his daughter, |
|Mary, 15, because she could not obtain work, Peter |
|Ellis, 1864 Brown Street, was arraigned in police |
|court Monday. The girl herself appeared against |
|Ellis. Her body, when she appeared on the witness |
|stand, was covered with cuts and bruises, her face |
|black from the alleged blows, and her eyes so much |
|swollen that she could hardly see. |
The following lead, too, is overloaded and all but impossible
to understand:
|Two letters written by H. M. Boynton, an advertising|
|agent for the Allen-Procter Co., to "Dear Louise," |
|in which he confessed undying love and which are |
|replete with such terms of endearment as "little |
|love," "dear beloved," "sweetheart," "honey," and |
|just plain "love," and which were alleged by him to |
|have been forged by his wife, Mrs. Hannah Benson |
|Boynton, obtained a divorce for her yesterday in |
|district court on the grounds of alienated |
|affections. |
Few readers would wade through this maze of shifted constructions and
heavy, awkward phrasing for the sake of the divorce story following. In
the following form, however, it readily becomes clear:
|Two love letters to "Dear Louise" cost H. M. |
|Boynton, advertising agent for the Allen-Procter |
|Co., a wife yesterday in district court. The letters|
|were produced by Mrs. Hannah Benson Boynton to |
|support her charge of alienated affections, and were|
|replete with such terms of endearment as "undying |
|love," "honey," "sweetheart," "dear beloved," |
|"little love," and just plain "love." Boynton |
|claimed that the letters were forged. |
=113. Boxed Summaries and Features.=--When a story is unusually long and
complicated and the number of details numerous, or when important points
or facts need particular emphasis, it is customary to make a digest of
the principal items and box them in display type before the regular
lead. Boxed summaries at the beginning of a story are really determined
by the city editor and the copy readers, but a grouping of the
outstanding facts for boxing is often a welcome suggestion and a
valuable help to the sub-editors. If the reporter is in doubt about the
need of a boxed summary, he may make it on a separate sheet and place it
on the city editor's desk along with the regular story. Types of stories
that most frequently have boxed summaries are accidents, with lists of
the dead and the injured in bold-face type; important athletic and
sporting events, with summaries of the records, the crowds in
attendance, the gate receipts, etc.; speeches, trials, and executions,
with epigrams and the most important utterances of the judges, lawyers,
witnesses, or defendants; international diplomatic letters, with the
main points of discussion or most threatening statements; lengthy
governmental reports, etc. An illustration of the boxed summary is the
following, featuring the last statement of Charles Becker, the New York
police lieutenant, electrocuted in 1915 for the death of Herman
Rosenthal:
=POLICE OFFICER PAYS PENALTY WITH HIS LIFE=
+----------------------------------------------------+
| |
| "MY DYING STATEMENT." |
| |
| "Gentlemen: I stand before you in my full senses, |
| knowing that no power on earth can save me from the|
| grave that is to receive me. In the face of that, |
| in the face of those who condemn me, and in the |
| presence of my God and your God, I proclaim my |
| absolute innocence of the foul crime for which I |
| must die. |
| |
| "You are now about to witness my destruction by the|
| state which is organized to protect the lives of |
| the innocent. May almighty God pardon everyone who |
| has contributed in any degree to my untimely death.|
| And now on the brink of my grave, I declare to the |
| world that I am proud to have been the husband of |
| the purest, noblest woman that ever lived,--Helen |
| Becker. |
| |
| "This acknowledgment is the only legacy I can leave|
| her. I bid you all good-bye. Father, I am ready to |
| go. Amen." |
| |
| "CHARLES BECKER." |
+----------------------------------------------------+
|Ossining, N. Y., July 30.--At peace with his Maker, |
|a prayer on his lips, but with never a faltering of |
|his iron will, Charles Becker expiated the murder of|
|Herman Rosenthal at 5:55 this morning. Pinned on his|
|shirt above his heart, he carried with him the |
|picture of his devoted wife. In his hand he clutched|
|the crucifix. |
| |
|The death current cut off in his throat the whisper,|
|"Jesus have mercy." It was not the plea of a man |
|shaken and fearful of death, but rather the prayer |
|of one with the conviction that he was innocent. |
| |
|Just before he entered the death chamber he declared|
|to Father Curry, "I am not guilty by deeds, |
|conspiracy or any other way of the death of |
|Rosenthal. I am sacrificed for my friends." |
|Previously at 4 A.M. he issued "My Dying Statement."|
|It was a passionate reiteration of innocence, and is|
|left as his only legacy to his wife: "I declare to |
|the world that I am proud to have been the husband |
|of the purest, noblest woman that ever lived,--Helen|
|Becker." |
| |
|Absolute quiet reigned in the death house at 5.50 |
|A.M. Suddenly the little green door swung open. |
|Becker appeared. He had no air of bravado. Behind |
|him in the procession came Fathers Cashin and Curry.|
|Becker walked unassisted to the death chamber. As he|
|entered he glanced about, seemingly surprised. His |
|face had the expression of a person coming from |
|darkness into sudden light, but there was no hint of|
|hesitancy to meet death in the stride with which he |
|approached the chair which had already claimed the |
|lives of four others in payment for the Rosenthal |
|murder. |
| |
|The doomed man held a black crucifix in his left |
|hand. It was about ten inches long, and as he calmly|
|took his place in the chair, he raised it to his |
|lips. Following the chant of the priests, he |
|entoned, "Oh, Lord, assist me in my last agony. I |
|give you my heart and my soul." |
| |
|When all was ready, the executioner stepped back and|
|in full view of the witnesses calmly shut the |
|switch. As the great current of electricity shot |
|into the frame of the former master of gunmen, the |
|big body straightened out, tugging at the creaking |
|straps. For a few moments it stretched out. A slight|
|sizzling was heard and a slight curl of smoke went |
|up from the right side of Becker's head, rising from|
|under the cap. When the shock was at its height, his|
|grip tightened to the crucifix, but as the |
|electrocutioner snapped the switch off the cross |
|slipped from the relaxed fingers. A guard caught it.|
|The whole body dropped to a position of utter |
|collapse. |
| |
|Becker's shirt was then opened. As the black cloth |
|was turned back to make way for the stethoscope, the|
|picture of Mrs. Becker was revealed. It was pinned |
|inside. The doctors pushed it aside impatiently, |
|evidently not knowing what it was. They held |
|stethoscopes to the heart. Another shock was |
|demanded of the cool young executioner. He stepped |
|back and swung the switch open and shut again. The |
|crumpled body clutched the straps again. Once more |
|the doctors felt his heart. They seemed to argue |
|whether there was still evidence of life. Once again|
|the executioner was appealed to and once again he |
|snapped on and off the switch. The lips then parted |
|in a smile. The stethoscope was applied and it was |
|declared that Becker was dead....[12] |
[12] George R. Holmes, of the United Press
Associations, in _The Appleton Post_,
July 30, 1915.
=114. Informal Lead.=--The opposite of the summarizing lead is the
informal, or suspense, lead. This type begins with a question, a bit of
verse, a startling quotation, or one or two manifestly unimportant
details that tell little and yet whet the appetite of the reader, luring
him to the real point of interest later in the story. Such leads,
sometimes known as "human interest" leads, are admittedly more difficult
than those of the summarizing type, their difficulty being but one
effect of the cause which makes them necessary. An examination of a
large number of these leads shows that their purpose is to make
attractive news that for some cause is lacking in interest. Most
frequently the news is old; often it is merely commonplace; or possibly
it may have come from such a distance that it lacks local interest. In
such cases the aid of the informal lead is invoked for the purpose of
stimulating the reader's interest and inducing him to read the whole
story. And this explains the difficulty of the informal lead. Its
originality must compensate for the poverty of the news it presents. It
must be more attractive, more striking, more piquant than the ordinary
lead. And the only ways of obtaining this attractiveness, this piquancy,
are by novelty of approach and of statement.[13]
[13] For an additional discussion of the informal lead,
see Chapter XIX.
=115. Question Lead.=--A few illustrations of informal leads will make
clearer their exact nature. First may be cited the question lead, two
examples of which are given below, with enough of the story appended in
each case to show the method of enticing the reader into the story.
|How long can the war last? |
| |
|It's a fool question, because there is no certain |
|answer. But when there is an unanswerable question, |
|it is the custom to look up precedents. Here are a |
|few precedents.... |
|If you planned to wed in September and married in |
|July just to suit your own convenience, would you be|
|provoked if your dear neighbors immediately seated |
|themselves and wove a beautiful romance out of it? |
| |
|Grace Elliott Bomarie, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. |
|Charles Elliott Bomarie, of 930 Lawrence Avenue, and|
|sister of Bessie Bomarie, former famous champion |
|golf player, was not angry to-day. Instead she |
|laughed the merriest kind of a laugh over the |
|telephone and said: |
| |
|"Call me up in half an hour and I will tell you all |
|about it." |
| |
|But she didn't. On the recall (that's the proper |
|word in this day of equal suffrage), she was not at |
|home. Mrs. Bomarie was, and said: |
| |
|"Please just say that Mr. and Mrs. Charles Elliott |
|Bomarie announce the marriage of their daughter, |
|Grace Elliott, to Mr. Albert Wingate." |
=116. Verse Lead.=--The lead beginning with a bit of verse is more
difficult than the question lead because of the uncertainty with which
most persons write metrical lines. The following may serve as a fairly
successful attempt:
=U. S. JACKIES WANT MAIL=
| Perhaps you've seen a jolly tar |
| A-pushing at the capstan bar |
| Or swabbing off the deck, |
| And figured that a life of ease |
| Attends the jackie on the seas |
| Who draws a U. S. check. |
| His lot, it seems, is not quite so; |
| Just hear this plaintive plea of woe |
| That comes from off the BUFFALO. |
| The sailors rise to raise a wail |
| Because they say they get no mail. |
| |
|Will some Milwaukee misses in their spare moments do|
|Uncle Sam a favor by writing letters to cheer up |
|some of his downhearted nephews in the navy? |
| |
|The boys are just pining away from lonesomeness, |
|owing to the fact that no one writes to them. At |
|least this is the sorrowful plea of G. H. Jones, a |
|sailor aboard the U. S. S. BUFFALO, who writes THE |
|SENTINEL from San Francisco as follows: |
| |
|Girls--Why not use some of your idle moments in |
|writing to us? I have been in the navy five years |
|and have never received any mail. G. H. Jones, |
|U. S. S. Buffalo, San Francisco, Cal.[14] |
[14] _Milwaukee Sentinel_, August 7, 1914.
=117. Extraordinary Statement in Lead.=--An extraordinary statement made
by a person in a speech, an interview, or a trial scene is often used in
the informal lead. If, however, the quoted statement is so long or of
such a nature that it summarizes the whole story, it places the lead, of
course, not in the informal class, but in the normal summarizing group.
The following illustrates well the extraordinary statement:
=FRIEND WIFE WENT TOO FAR=
|Mr. David Elliott, |
| Chicago. |
| |
|Sir: |
| You can go to the d----l, and the quicker the |
|better. |
| |
| Sincerely, |
| Your Wife. |
| |
|This is the letter in which David Elliot thinks his |
|wife "went too far." He produced it before Judge |
|David Matchett Saturday in a suit for divorce. |
=118. Suspense Lead.=--The most difficult to handle of all the informal
leads is the suspense lead, where the writer purposely begins with
unimportant but enticing details and lures the reader on from paragraph
to paragraph, always holding out a half-promise of something worth while
if one will continue a bit further. In this way the reader is tempted to
the middle or end of the story before he is told the real point of the
article. A difficult type of lead, this, but forceful when well handled.
|Pierre L. Corbin, 60 years old, of Eatontown, who |
|runs a dairy and drives his own milk wagon, matched |
|the speed of his horse against that of a New Jersey |
|Central train yesterday morning at 7 o'clock in a |
|race to the crossing at Eatontown. It was a tie. |
|Both got there at the same time.[15] |
[15] _New York Times_, August 27, 1915.
|There are two ways of patching a pair of |
|trousers,--neatly and bluey; and probably no tailor |
|in Manhattan is as certain of it to-day as Sigmund |
|Steinbern. So he stated to the police yesterday when|
|a customer sat him down on his lighted gas stove, |
|and so he insisted last night when friends called to|
|see him at the Washington Heights Hospital. |
|Furthermore, to say nothing of moreover, he is a |
|tailor of standing, or will be for the next couple |
|of weeks, and he knows his place. It is not, he |
|feels, upon a gas stove. |
| |
|To friends who called at the hospital to ask Mr. |
|Steinbern exactly what had happened to him, he said,|
|by way of changing the subject, that he has a sign |
|in his store upon which the following appears: |
| |
|EVERYTHING DONE IN A HURRY |
| |
|There, he contends, lies the seed of the trouble. |
|Regarding the seat of the trouble, more anon....[16]|
[16] _New York Herald_, December 21, 1915.
=119. Tone.=--No matter which of the two types of lead one uses, whether
the summarizing or the informal, one point further needs attention in
the writing,--the value of constructing such a lead as will suggest the
tone of the story. Half the leads that one reads in the daily papers do
not possess this touchstone of superiority, but all the leads to the big
stories have it. If the article is to be pathetic, tragic, humorous,
mildly satirical, the lead should suggest it; and the reporter will find
that in proportion as he is able to imbue his lead with the story-tone
he aims at in his writing, so will be the success of his story. This
topic is discussed further in the next chapter, but the reader may
consider at this point the two following leads, in which one plainly
promises a story of pathos and tragedy; the other, half-serious humor:
|_DIED_--Claus, Santa, in the American Hospital, |
|Christmas morning, aged 11._ |
| |
|Santa Claus, who wasn't such an old fellow after |
|all, overslept on the great morning. He had gone to |
|bed plain Vern Olson--not in a toy shop at the North|
|Pole, but in a little room behind his widowed |
|mother's delicatessen shop at 111 South Robey |
|Street. |
|The cause of the high cost of living has been |
|discovered. It's pie,--plain pie. Teeny Terss, who |
|runs a Greek restaurant on Hodel Street, made the |
|announcement to-day. |
=120. Conclusion.=--Of the two types of lead, the beginner is advised to
attempt at first only the summary lead, relying on the excellence of the
news to carry the story. This kind of lead is definite. A reporter
always can know when his lead answers the questions _who_, _what_,
_when_, _where_, _why_, and _how_. And if he has presented his facts
clearly in the lead, he may feel a certain degree of assurance that he
has been successful. In writing the informal lead, on the contrary, one
can never be positive of anything or of any effect. (And it is a
particular effect for which the reporter always must strive in the
informal lead.) Climax and suspense are such elusive spirits that if a
writer but give evidence he is seeking them, he immediately loses them.
The only safe plan for the novice, therefore, is to confine himself at
first exclusively to the summarizing lead. Then as his hand becomes
sure, he may take ventures with the elusive, informal, or suspense,
lead.
X. THE BODY OF THE STORY
=121. Inaccuracy and Dullness.=--If the reporter has written a strong
lead for his story, he need have small worry about what shall follow,
which usually is little more than a simple narration of events in
chronological order, with interspersions of explanation or description.
If a wise choice and arrangement has been made in the organization of
details, the part of the story following the lead will all but tell
itself. The reporter's care now must be to maintain the interest he has
developed in the lead and to regard the accuracy of succeeding
statements. There are just two crimes of which a newspaper man may be
guilty,--inaccuracy and dullness. And the greater of these is
inaccuracy.
=122. Accuracy.=--When a reporter is publishing a choice bit of scandal
or a remarkable instance of disregarded duty, it is an easy thing, for
the sake of making the story a good one, or for lack of complete
information, to draw on the imagination or to jump too readily at
conclusions, and so present as facts not only what may be untrue, but
what often later proves entirely false. The ease of the thing is argued
by the frequency with which it is done. Such a reporter does a threefold
harm: he compels his paper to humiliate itself later by publishing the
truth; he causes the public to lose confidence in his journal; and he
does irreparable injury to unknown, innocent persons. The day following
the _Eastland_ disaster in 1915, one Chicago paper ran the list of dead
up to eighteen hundred. A week later the same paper was forced to put
the number at less than nine hundred. A rival publication in the same
city kept its estimate consistently in the neighborhood of nine
hundred, with the resultant effect to-day of increased public confidence
in its statements. In another city of the Middle West judgment for
$10,000 has recently been granted a complainant because one of the city
staff made a rash statement about the plaintiff's "illicit love." The
reporter was discharged, of course, but that did not repair the damage
or reimburse the paper.
=123. Law of Libel.=--Every newspaper man, as a matter of business,
should know the law of libel. It varies somewhat in different states,
but the following brief summary may be taken as a working basis until
the reporter can gain an opportunity to study it in his own state. In
the first place, the law holds responsible not only the owners of the
journal, but the publisher, the editor, the writer of the offending
article, and even any persons selling the paper, provided it can be
proved that they were aware of the matter contained in the publication.
What constitutes libel is equally far-reaching. It is any published
matter that tends to disgrace or degrade a person generally, or to
subject him to public distrust, ridicule, or contempt. Any written
article that implies or may be generally understood to imply reproach,
dishonesty, scandal, or ridicule of or against a person, or which tends
to subject such a person to social disgrace, public distrust, hatred,
ridicule, or contempt, is libelous. Even the use in an article of
ironical or sarcastic terms indicating scorn or contempt is libelous,
because such expressions are calculated to injure the persons of whom
they are spoken. And if an article contains several expressions, each of
which is libelous, each may be a separate cause for legal action. Nor is
it a defense to prove that such rumors were current, that such
statements were previously published, or even that the writer did not
intend the remarks to do injury. If it can be proved that the article
has done injury, the writer and his paper are guilty of libel and must
pay damages in accordance with the enormity of the offense.
=124. Avoidance of Libel.=--When it becomes necessary to make a
statement about a person that may be unpleasing to him, the writer
should give the name of the one making the charge or assertion, or else
avoid making a specific charge by inserting _it is alleged_, _it is
rumored_, _it is charged,_ or some such limiting phrase. Note the
following story of the arrest of two shop-girls and how skilfully the
reporter avoids charging them with theft:
| =CHARGE TWO WITH SHOPLIFTING= |
| |
|Edna K. Whitter and Minnie Jensen, saleswomen in a |
|New Haven store, are under arrest charged with |
|shoplifting. |
| |
|The former is said to have confessed after goods |
|valued at more than $1,000 were found in her room. |
|She is said to have implicated Miss Jensen, who |
|denies the charge. |
| |
|Desire to dress elaborately is alleged to have |
|caused the young women to steal. Miss Jensen is the |
|daughter of a farmer. Investigations by detectives, |
|it is said, may result in more arrests.... |
Whenever possible, it is well to avoid _it is said_, _it is rumored_. A
story reads more convincingly when the reporter's authority is given.
And the statement of the authority places the responsibility where it
belongs.
=125. Exaggeration.=--One word further about the _Eastland_ disaster and
loss of public confidence resulting from exaggerated stories. Upon the
news article itself there is a very definite effect of such
exaggeration,--that mere extravagance of statement often defeats its own
end. It is of first importance in writing that one's statements command
the confidence of the reader. If a reporter writes that the wreck he has
just visited was the greatest in the history of railroading, or the
bride the most beautiful ever joined in the bonds of holy wedlock before
a hymeneal altar, or the flames the most lurid that ever lit a midnight
sky, the reader merely snickers and turns to a story he can believe.
The value of understatement cannot be overestimated. Probably the
majority of the people of the United States are suspicious anyway of the
truth of what they read in the newspapers. Hence, if one must sin on the
side of accurate valuation of news, let him err in favor of
understatement rather than exaggeration. Then when he is forced by
actual facts to resort to huge figures, his readers will believe him.
Such a policy, consistently adhered to, will always win favor for a
paper and a reporter. And that the best papers have learned this is
proved by the fact that they no longer tolerate inaccuracy of statement
or unverified information in their columns.
=126. "Editorializing."=--One other caution must be given in the cause
of accuracy, that of the necessity of presenting news from an unbiased
standpoint, of eliminating as far as possible the personal equation,--in
other words, of avoiding "editorializing." The news columns are the
place for the colorless presentation of news. No attempt is, or should
be, made there to influence public opinion. That function is reserved
for the editorial columns, and the reporter must be careful not to let
his personal views color the articles he writes. The following story was
written for a small Wisconsin paper by a rabid political reporter:
| =THOMAS MORRIS IN TOWN= |
| |
|Thomas Morris, lieutenant governor of this state and|
|candidate for the United States senate, was in |
|Appleton this morning and spent the day in Outagamie|
|county shaking hands with those who would. But few |
|would shake. He wanted to speak while here, but the |
|enlightened citizens of this city were right in not |
|letting him. Peter Tubits was his chief pilot |
|through the county. |
Needless to say, this story was not printed.
=127. Newspaper Policies.=--Even though it may seem--and in a measure
is--in contradiction to what has just been said about accuracy and
editorializing, it is nevertheless necessary before passing the subject
to comment on the necessity of a reporter's observing a paper's
editorial policies,--to say, in other words, that all news is not
unbiased. For instance, if a newspaper is undertaking a crusade against
midwives or pawnshops or certain political leaders, it gives those
institutions or those persons little or no credit for the good they
accomplish, nor does it feature impartially in its news articles their
good and bad acts. Yet such institutions or persons must have
accomplished much good to arrive at the rank or position they now hold,
and must continue to be of service to retain their standing. The
following story, which appeared in a paper crusading against pawnshops
and pistol carrying, is an illustration of what is meant by biased news:
| =JILTED, ENDS LIFE WITH A GUN= |
| |
|Israel Weilman was in love. Three months ago the |
|girl told him she would not marry him. Last night |
|Weilman left his quarters at 875 Banker Street and |
|went to the home of Rebecca Schussman, 904 South |
|Pueblo Avenue, where his room-mate and cousin, David|
|Isaacs, was calling. |
| |
|"Here are the keys to the room," he told his cousin,|
|"I will not be home to-night." |
| |
|Then Weilman departed. A few minutes later a shot |
|was heard in the alley back of the Schussman home. |
|They found Weilman dead with a bullet wound through |
|his heart. Beside him was a new "American bulldog" |
|revolver, retailing for $1.50. In his pocket was a |
|ticket of sale from the Angsgewitz pawnshop. The |
|profit on this style of weapon is about 25 cents. |
Illustrations of prejudiced political news may be found daily in any
newspaper.
=128. Observing a Paper's Policies.=--It is necessary, therefore, to
modify the preceding statements about unbiased news. Those assertions
express the millennial dream, colorless news, that American journalism
is always approaching as an ideal, but has not yet reached. From the
same Associated Press dispatch a Georgia and a Pennsylvania daily can
produce stories respectively of success and dissension in the Democratic
party. From the same cable bulletin a Milwaukee and a New York paper can
obtain German victory and English repulse of repeated Teutonic attacks.
Not only _can_, but _do_. It is only fair to the would-be reporter,
therefore, to tell him that at times in his journalistic career he may
be permitted to see snow only through a motorist's yellow goggles. The
modern newspaper is a business organization run for the profit or power
of the owners, with the additional motive in the background of possible
social uplift,--social uplift as the owners see it. They determine a
paper's policies, and a reporter must learn and observe those policies
if he expects to succeed.
=129. Following Commands.=--Observance of this injunction is
particularly valuable in stories relating to political and civic
measures. If one is on a paper with Republican affiliations, one may be
forced to hear and report a G. O. P. governor's speech with an
elephant's ears and trumpet,--or with a moose's ears and voice if the
journal is Progressive. It makes no difference what the reporter's
personal feeling or party preferences may be. On such papers he must
follow precisely the commands of the managing editor or the city editor
and must feature sympathetically or severely what they request. Usually
an intelligent sympathy with the general policy of the paper is
sufficient for a reporter, no matter how conscientious. It is only
rarely that he is trammeled with being forced to write contrary to his
convictions. But at those times when such commands are given, he must
see and write as requested or seek another position.
=130. Consistency of Policy.=--On the other hand, suppose in policies
affecting the official standing of a newspaper every reporter saw and
presented events from his own distorted angle. How consistent would a
modern newspaper be? And how long could it hold the respect or patronage
of its readers?
=131. Clearness.=--Next in importance to accuracy comes interest. A
story must be interesting to be read. Every paragraph must be clear. Its
relation to every other paragraph must be evident, and the story as a
whole must be presented so that it may be understood and enjoyed by the
reader with as small expenditure of mental effort as possible. Ideas
that are connected in thought, either by virtue of their sequence in
time or for other reasons, must be kept together, and ideas that are
separated in thought must be kept apart. If the story is one covering
considerable length of time, care must be taken to keep the different
incidents separated in point of time so that the reader may understand
readily the relation of the different events to each other. The tenses
of the verbs, too, must be kept consistent, logical. One cannot shift at
will from past time to the present, and vice versa. If the story is a
follow-up of an event that occurred before to-day and has been written
up before, the body of the story should contain a sufficient summary of
the preceding events to make the details readily clear to all
readers,--even though the lead may already have included a connecting
link. The summary of events in the lead must necessarily have been
brief; the review in the body of the story may be presented at greater
length.
=132. Coherence.=--A valuable aid in gaining clearness is a proper
regard for coherence, for obtaining which there are four ways within a
story: (1) by arrangement of the facts and statements in a natural
sequence of ideas; (2) by use of pronouns; (3) by repetition; and (4) by
use of relation words, phrases, and clauses. Discussion has already been
given, in Chapter VIII, on the organization of material, of the
necessity of logical arrangement of the story. If one has made a proper
grouping there, one will have taken the first step, and the surest,
toward adequate coherence. Of the three remaining methods, probably the
greatest newspaper men are strongest in their use of pronouns, such as
_these_, _those_, _that_, _them_, etc. They also avail themselves freely
of a skillful repetition of words,--the third method, which stands
almost, but not quite equal to the use of pronouns in effectiveness and
frequency. The following fire story exhibits a happy repetition of words
for holding the ideas in easy sequence. Note in it the skillful
repetition of _firemen_, _fire_, _whiskey_, _building_, _casks_,
_canal_.
| =$750,000 WORTH OF WHISKEY BURNS= |
| |
|Firemen had to fight a canal full of blazing whiskey|
|here to-day when a fire broke out in the building of|
|the Distillery Company, Ltd. Twelve thousand casks |
|of liquor were stored in the building. The |
|conflagration spread rapidly and the explosion of |
|the casks released the whiskey, which made a burning|
|stream of the canal. |
| |
|Firemen pumped water from the bottom of the canal |
|and played it on the blazing surface. The loss is |
|estimated at $750,000. |
=133. Relation Words.=--In other kinds of writing there is a tendency to
use relation words, phrases, and clauses freely between sentences and
paragraphs. But in news writing the paucity of such expressions for
subconnection--_moreover_, _finally_, _on the other hand_, _in the next
place_, _now that we have mentioned the cause of the divorce_--is
noteworthy. Editors and the news-reading public demand that the ideas
follow each other so closely and that the style be so compressed in
thought that there shall be small need of connectives between sentences.
It is this demand, plus a desire for emphasis, that is responsible for the
so-called bing-bing-bing style of writing, of which the following is a
fair illustration:
|After killing Mrs. Benton, Wallace, and the Weston |
|boy, Carlton set fire to the Lewis "love bungalow." |
|The wounded were unable to care for themselves. They|
|narrowly escaped death in the burning building. |
|Arrival of rescuing parties attracted by the fire |
|alone saved their lives. |
| |
|A hatchet was the weapon used by Carlton. |
| |
|The slayer escaped after the wholesale murder. He is|
|thought to be headed for Chicago. A posse under |
|command of Sheriff Bauer of Spring Green is hunting |
|the man. |
| |
|The story of the terrible tragedy enacted in the |
|Lewis "love bungalow," where for some years the |
|celebrated sculptor and the former Mrs. Cross had |
|been living in open defiance of the |
|conventionalities, was a gruesome one as it came to |
|light to-day. |
| |
|Carlton is twenty-eight years old. He is married. |
|His wife lived with him at the Lewis home. He had |
|been employed by Lewis for six months. He was |
|formerly employed by John Z. Hobart, proprietor of |
|Hobart's restaurant. He is five feet eight inches |
|tall, of medium build and light in color. |
| |
|What caused the trouble or the fury of Carlton is |
|not known. |
| |
|Who first fell is not known. |
| |
|What is known of the tragedy is this: |
| |
|Shortly after noon to-day villagers in the little |
|village of Spring Valley, where the Lewis bungalow |
|is and always has been something of a mystery as |
|well as a wonder to the residents, saw smoke coming |
|from the "love bungalow" on the hills. Villagers ran|
|to the place. The fire department responded to the |
|alarm. |
| |
|The bungalow was rapidly being consumed. Some one |
|entered the house. It was a shambles. Mrs. Benton |
|was found dead. Wallace was dead. Both had been |
|literally chopped to pieces by the infuriated negro.|
| |
|The bungalow was barricaded before entrance was |
|forced. After the dead had been discovered the |
|wounded were found. They were dragged out. The |
|conscious told disjointed stories of the tragedy and|
|of the awful fury that seemed to possess Carlton, |
|the cook. |
| |
|The latter was not to be found. He was at first |
|thought to have taken to the hills. Later it was |
|thought he might be hiding in the underground root |
|cellar but no search lights were available. |
| |
|Men with guns surrounded the house. |
| |
|The negro will be lynched if he is found, it was |
|thought this afternoon.[17] |
[17] _Chicago American._
=134. Bing-Bing-Bing Style.=--On the whole, this bing-bing-bing style of
writing cannot be commended. Its value in rapid narrative, where
excitement prevails and the reader's emotions are greatly aroused, is
evident. But the style, indulged in too freely, produces a fitful,
choppy effect that is not good. The sentences should be longer and more
varied in construction. Examination of the preceding illustration shows
that it has only three words or phrases used for subconnection, and only
four complex sentences.
=135. Emphasis.=--Next to clearness in holding the interest of the
reader comes emphasis, which may be had by avoidance of vague literary
phrasing, by a due regard for tone in the story, and by condensation of
expression. The first two overlap, since the whole tone of a story may
easily be destroyed by an affectation of literary phraseology. These
two, therefore, may be considered together.
=136. Vague Literary Phrasing.=--Many cub reporters feel, when they
begin to write, that they must express themselves in a literary style,
and to gain that style they affect sonorous, grandiloquent phrases that
sound well but mean little. In nine cases out of ten these phrases are
the inventions of others and meant much as used in their original
connection. But as adopted now by a novice, they are vague, only hazily
expressive, lacking in that sharp precision necessary for forceful
presentation of news.
=137. Tone.=--It is this vagueness of expression that as often as not
destroys the tone of the story. One may be aiming at portraying the
dignity and simplicity of a wedding or the unmarred happiness of the
occasion, but if one attempts to equal the joy of the event with the
bigness of his words, one will produce upon the reader an effect of
revulsion rather than interest. An ignorant, but well-meaning, reporter
on an Eastern weekly concluded a wedding story with the following
sentences:
|After the union of Miss Petty and Mr. Meydam in the |
|holy bonds of wedlock, the beautiful bride and |
|handsome groom and all the knights and ladies |
|present repaired to the dining-room, where a |
|bounteous supper interspersed with mirth and song |
|awaited them. After which they tripped the light |
|fantastic toe until the wee small hours of the |
|morning, when all repaired to their beds of rest and|
|wrapt themselves in the arms of Morpheus. |
This selection happens to be a conglomeration mainly of worn-out
expressions current in literature for the past two or three centuries.
But any use of phrases too large or too emotional for the thought to be
conveyed will result in an equally dismal failure. All the words,
phrases, and ideas in the following are the writer's own, but the effect
is practically the same as in the preceding story:
|The scene and the occasion were both inspiring. The |
|music was furnished by the birds, which were at |
|their best on this bridal day. A meadowlark called |
|to his mate across the lake, asking if he might come|
|and join her. A brown thrush in a tree on the hill |
|near by sent forth across the water a carol full of |
|love and melody such as a Beethoven or a Chopin |
|would strive in vain to imitate. The hills were |
|dressed in their prettiest robes of green. The water|
|was quiet. Nature was at her best. And the bride and|
|groom, both in tastiness of dress and in spirits, |
|were in harmony with nature. |
The writer, too, in striving after a definite tone must be equally
apprehensive of unintended suggestions caused by an unfortunate
closeness of unrelated ideas. This fault was illustrated in a story by
an Iowa reporter who wrote that "Lon Stegle took Mrs. Humphrey and a
load of hogs to Santo Monday," and of an unwitting Pennsylvania humorist
who said, "Audry Richardson, while visiting his sweetheart in Freedonia
last Sunday sprained his arm severely and won't be able to use it for
ten days or two weeks." If the tone of the story is meant to be
dignified, unintended humor may make the presentation absurd.
=138. Varied Sentence Length.=--The story tone is greatly affected also
by the length of the sentences. If one's sentences are unnecessarily
long, the effect will be heavy and tiresome. If they are markedly short,
the result will be a monotonous, choppy, jolting effect, like a flat
wheel on a street-car. The bing-bing-bing style just discussed is an
illustration of the latter. The writer should aim at a happy medium,
with simple constructions and a tendency toward shorter sentences than
in other kinds of writing. Twenty words make a good average sentence
length. It is necessary to remember that one's stories are read not only
by the literati, but by the uneducated as well. One must make one's
style, therefore, so fluent, so easy, that a man with a speaking
vocabulary of five hundred words can read and enjoy all one writes.
=139. Condensation.=--The value of condensation of expression need not
be discussed at length here as it is taken up fully in the next chapter.
Suffice it to say now, however, that a diffuse style is never forceful.
The reporter must condense his ideas into the smallest space possible.
Often that space is designated by the city editor when the reporter, on
his return to the office, asks for instructions, and nearly always it is
only about half enough. But he must follow directions to the letter. Woe
to the novice who presents a thousand words, or even six hundred, when
the city editor calls for five hundred. Sometimes, however, he will
find that the city editor has allotted him more space than he can
easily fill. In such a case, let him give length by introducing
additional details. Mere words will not suffice. They do not make a
story.
=140. Final Test of a Story.=--The two cares for the reporter, then, in
writing the body of the story are accuracy and interest. Accuracy is
worth most, and is attained by strict adherence to truth, with plenty of
proof for the truth in case it is questioned after publication. Interest
may be had by making all statements clear, coherent, forceful. But there
is no precise form or method by which accuracy and interest may be
obtained. The reporter is given unlimited range in selecting,
organizing, and writing his news. He may follow or disregard at will the
standard types of other newspaper men's stories, which should be taken
as models only, never as laws. For the final test of the goodness of a
story is its effect upon the reader. If it attains the desired result
without conforming to the patterns given by other writers, it will
become a new pattern for itself and for similar stories. Get accuracy
and interest, then, no matter what the method.
XI. THE PARAGRAPH
=141. Paragraph a Mark of Punctuation.=--Discussion of the paragraph
really belongs under the head of punctuation, since its purpose is to
set off the larger divisions of the story in the same way that the
period and the comma mark sentences and phrases. The indention of the
first line catches the eye of the reader and notifies him silently to
stop for a summary of his impressions before starting a somewhat
different phase of the story. Its purpose, like that of the other marks
of punctuation, is clearness and emphasis. Yet since its very lax laws
are much the same as those of the story, it must be noticed
independently.
=142. Clearness.=--The first requirement of the paragraph is that it
shall be clear. Its relation to the paragraphs preceding and following
must be evident at a glance. If transitional phrases and sentences or
relation words are necessary for making the relation clear, use them;
but as a rule, as stated concerning the story as a whole, reliance for
clearness in and between paragraphs is placed mainly on the natural and
close sequence of ideas.
=143. Emphasis.=--Next to clearness, the important thing to strive for
in the news paragraph is emphasis. Proper emphasis is not a virtue; it
is a necessity, because the eye of the rapid reader, as he glances down
the columns of the paper, catches only the first words and phrases at
each paragraph indention. And according as those words and phrases
interest him, so will he take sufficient interest in the paragraph as a
whole to read it. For this reason the beginning of each paragraph
especially should be emphasized by placing there the most important
details. The reporter should guard against putting even dependent
clauses and phrases used for subconnection at the beginning of a
paragraph, but should envelop them, rather, within the sentence. He
should not begin successive paragraphs with the same words or phrases or
with the same construction. It is remarkable how unfavorably such small
details influence readers. All this does not mean that the paragraph
should end lamely. It cannot conclude with the emphasis of the
beginning, it is true, but it may be well rounded at the end and its
lack of emphasis in details may be compensated with vigor and deftness
of expression.
=144. Paragraph Length.=--The length of one's paragraphs should also be
a matter of due consideration. They must be not only brief, but brief
looking. The modern reader will not brook long ones. Single-sentence
paragraphs are frequent, particularly in the lead. Two- or
three-sentence paragraphs are common. Half-column paragraphs are
unendurable. The average newspaper column permits lines of about seven
words each, so that twenty lines, or 140 words, should be the limit of a
paragraph. Eight or ten lines is a good average length. Because of this
necessary brevity, the newspaper paragraph allows no topics and
subtopics within its limited space, but throws every subtopic into an
individual paragraph. This the reporter may follow as a safe rule in
paragraphing: whenever in doubt about the advisability of a new
paragraph, make one.
XII. THE SENTENCE[18]
[18] Teachers having classes sufficiently advanced may find
it advisable to pass hastily over this chapter, or may
omit it entirely.
=145. Requisites.=--The same laws of accuracy and interest hold for the
sentence as for the story as a whole. But in the sentence they are more
rigid,--due in the main to the fact that the sentence is briefer and
more readily analyzable. And while one sympathizes with the overworked
reporter who served notice upon critical college professors that "when
the hands of the clock are near on to press time, and I have a million
things to write in a few minutes, I don't give a whoop if I do end a few
sentences with prepositions," and concluded by saying, "If I had as much
time as the average college professor has, I probably could write good
grammar, too";--while one sympathizes with the time-driven newspaper man
who never has sufficient leisure to polish a story as he would like, the
fact still remains that the reader cannot tell from looking at a story,
nor should he be allowed to tell, how much rushed the reporter was. The
only thing the reader is interested in is the story, whether it is good
or not; and if he does not regard it as worth while, if the sentences
are faulty, ungrammatical, weak, he will read another story or another
paper.
=146. Grammar.=--The first point to regard in seeking accuracy in the
sentence is good grammar. This may seem a trivial injunction to offer a
coming star reporter on a great metropolitan daily; but the city
editor's assistants have to correct more grammatical errors in cub copy
than any other kind of mistake except spelling and punctuation. The main
violations of grammar may be classified conveniently under four heads:
faulty reference, incorrect verb forms, failures in coördinating and
subordinating different parts of a sentence, and poor ellipsis.
=147. Pronouns Referring to Ideas.=--Probably the most prolific cause of
bad grammar and of obscurity of meaning in news writing may be found in
the use of unclear pronouns. One or more instances may be found in
almost every paper a reader examines. A reporter should assure himself
that every pronoun he uses refers to a particular word in the sentence
and that it agrees with that word in gender and number. The use of a
pronoun to refer to a general idea not expressed in a particular word is
one of the commonest causes of ambiguity and obscurity in newspaper
work. In the following sentence note what a ludicrous turn is given the
sentence by the use of _which_ referring to an idea:
|A card from C. A. Laird, son of Harry Laird, informs|
|the _Democrat_ that his father is slightly improved |
|and that they now have hopes of his recovery, |
|although he suffers much pain from his fractured |
|jaw, which will be good news to his many Lock Haven |
|friends. |
=148. Agreement of Pronouns in Number.=--A second prime cause of
incorrect reference is found in a writer's failure to make a reference
word agree in number with the noun to which it refers. Such faulty
reference occurs most frequently after collective nouns, such as _mob_,
_crowd_, _council_, _jury_, _assembly_; after distributive pronouns,
such as _everyone_, _anybody_, _nobody_; and after two or more singular
and plural nouns, where the reporter forgets momentarily to which he is
referring. In the following sentences note that each of the italicized
pronouns violates one or more of these principles, thereby polluting the
clearness of the meaning:
|The mob was already surrounding the attorney's home,|
|but _they_ moved so slowly that we got in ahead. |
|We have heard more than one express _themselves_ |
|that next year Merrillan should have the biggest |
|celebration of the century. |
|Everyone who had any interest in the boat was |
|inquiring about _their_ friends and relatives. |
|A peculiar thing about each one was that _they_ |
|chose a husband with a given name that rhymed much |
|the same with _their_ own. Mrs. Baker was Josephine |
|Ramp and secured Joe as her husband; Arnie Hallauer |
|and Annie Ramp, Gust Lumblad and Gusta Ramp, and |
|Eugene Carver and Ella Ramp. The _latter_ is a |
|widow. The given name of each one commences with the|
|same letter in each instance. |
=149. Ambiguous Antecedents.=--Then there is a use of the pronoun with
an unclear antecedent buried somewhere in the sentence, so that the
pronoun seems to refer to an intervening word. Such a misuse really is a
matter of clearness rather than of grammar, and should come under the
next section of this chapter, but it will be discussed here for the sake
of including all misuses of the pronoun at once. The ambiguous use of
pronouns is the most common error of faulty reference. The following are
typical illustrations:
|The Rev. Mr. Tomlinson states that he wants a |
|steady, religious young man to look after his garden|
|and care for his cow who has a good voice and is |
|accustomed to singing in the choir. |
|Atkinson telephoned that he was at Zeibski's corners|
|in his machine and had his wife with him. She had |
|died on him and he wanted the garage company to come|
|out and pull her in. |
=150. Split Infinitive.=--Next to faulty reference in frequency comes
the use of incorrect verb forms. Of these probably the most commo
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/30765