  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 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 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:
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 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 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 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 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
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 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 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 page37 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.
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 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 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.
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 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 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. 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 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 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. 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:
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 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 79. Ability to Detect Falsehood.—The fifth requirement for successful interviewing, and the last to be discussed in this chapter, 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 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 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 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
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 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 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 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. 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. 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.... 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 Ambrosia took the dress back. The installment 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. 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: [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. 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 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. 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.
101. Two Kinds of Leads.—The story, technically, is 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. 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. 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. 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 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 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: "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 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.... 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. 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: 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. 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: 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. 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 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.... 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.
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. 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. 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 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 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 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 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 $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. Men with guns surrounded the house. The negro will be lynched if he is found, it was thought this afternoon. 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. 137. Tone.—It is this vagueness of expression that as often as not destroys the tone of the story. One may be 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 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 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.
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 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.
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 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. 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. President Yuan Shi Kai declared he was willing to permit Professor Frank Johnson Goodnow of Brooklyn, legal adviser to the Chinese government, to in August accept the presidency of Johns Hopkins University. 151. Infinitive and Participle with Verbs.—The use of the infinitive and the participle with the past tense of verbs is also a cause of frequent error. Our English rule regarding these parts of the verb is mainly a matter of usage, accuracy in which may be attained only by habits of correct speech. But if the reporter will bear in mind that the infinitive and the participle have no finite tense of their own, that they always express time relative to the time of the main verb, he will have taken a real precaution toward preventing confusion. For example, the newspaper man who wrote, Detective McGuire had intended to have arrested him when he began blowing the safe, did not say what he meant, because the past infinitive here makes the writer say that Detective McGuire had intended to have the yeggman already under arrest when he began blowing the safe. What the writer meant to say was: Detective McGuire had intended to arrest him when he began blowing the safe. Likewise the reporter was inaccurate who wrote: Going into the basement, they found the cocaine stored beneath a heap of rags. He was not accurate, unless he meant that they found the cocaine while on the way to the basement. The cause of his inaccuracy lies in the fact that the time expressed by the participle going varies from that of the main verb. What he should have said was, Having gone into the basement, ... or better, After going into the basement, they found the cocaine stored beneath a heap of rags. 152. Dangling Participles.—Another detail for careful attention in the use of the participle is the necessity of having a definite noun or pronoun in the sentence for the participle to modify. It is wrong to write, Having arrived at the county jail, the door was forced open, because the sentence seems to say that the door did the arriving. The sentence should be written, Having arrived at the county jail, the mob forced open the door. 153. Agreement of Verbs.—One should watch one's verbs carefully, too, to see that they agree in number with their subjects. One is sometimes tempted to make the verb agree with the predicate, as in the following: The weakest section of the course are the ninth, tenth, and eleventh holes. But English usage requires agreement of the verb with the subject. If the subject is a collective noun, one may regard it as either singular or plural. But when the writer has made his choice, he must maintain a consistent point of view. One may say, The mob were now gathering in the northeast corner of the yard and yelling themselves hoarse, or The mob was now gathering in the northeast corner of the yard and yelling itself hoarse. But the two points of view may not be mixed in the same sentence or the same paragraph. That the following sentence is wrong should be evident at a glance: The Kellog-Haines Singing Party has been on the lyceum and chautauqua platform for eight years and have toured together the entire United States. Confusion is often caused also by qualifying phrases intervening between subjects and their verbs. Thus: The number of the strikers and of the members of the employment associations do not agree with the report made by the commission. And sometimes one finds a plural verb wrongly used after the correlative terms either ... or and neither ... nor, as in the following: Neither the mother of the children nor the aunt were held responsible for the accident. Finally, one often finds reporters consistently using a singular verb after the expletive there. In fifty per cent of the cases the writers are wrong. Thus: The briefest glance at the yard and premises would have shown that there was more than one in the conspiracy. Here was should be were. The sister residing in Albany, and who is said to have struck one of the visiting sisters, followed them into the sick room. In this sentence and is used to connect the participle residing with the pronoun who, and the consequent awkwardness results. This is the much condemned and who construction. Likewise, in the next sentence: Five hundred persons saw two boys washed from the end of Winter's pier and drowning in twenty feet of water at noon to-day. And is here used to connect the past participle washed with the present participle drowning, and the sentence is thereby rendered clumsy. 155. Clauses Unequal in Thought.—An equally great inaccuracy is the attempt to connect with a coÖrdinate conjunction clauses equivalent in grammatical construction, but unequal in thought value. Other things being equal, the ideas of greatest value should be put into independent clauses, the ideas of least value into dependent clauses or phrases. Other things being equal, be it understood, for by a too strict observance of this rule one may easily make the sentence ludicrous. Take the following as an illustration: We were to raid the hall precisely at midnight, and we set our watches to the second. Here the thought-value of the two clauses is not equal, no matter how the writer may attempt to make it seem so by expressing the ideas in clauses grammatically equal. The second clause contains the main idea; so the first should be subservient. Thus: As we were to raid the hall precisely at midnight, we set our watches to the second. In the corrected form the sentence is given greater force by having the reader's attention directed specifically to the thought of prime importance, the setting of the watches. The saloons were not allowed after January 1 to keep open on Sunday, and half of them gave up their licenses. As the saloons were not allowed after January 1 to keep open on Sunday, half of them gave up their licenses. He fell from the sixth story and was able to walk away without assistance. Though he fell from the sixth story, he was able to walk away without assistance. To err is human; to forgive, divine. is an illustration of good ellipsis because the word is can readily be substituted from the context. The following ellipses, however, are not good: Louis Flanagan is helping his brother Silas cut wood and numerous other things. He shadowed Laux longer than O'Rourke. Standing on each side of the door, a fat and tall man looked suspiciously at them. Ellipsis is often desirable for the sake of brevity, but one must be sure never to omit a word or phrase unless precisely that word or phrase may be readily supplied from the context. The Assembly on Thursday refused to pass the Grell Bill, permitting the sale of intoxicating liquors, after the close of the polls on election days, over the governor's veto. This sentence is clear if one will stop to read it twice; but there is the trouble: one must read it twice—a task few will perform. 158. Grammatically Connected Phrases.—The lack of entire clearness in the sentence just quoted is due to a difficulty over which the best writers often stumble,—failure to keep grammatically connected words, phrases, and clauses as close together as possible. In the sentence quoted, for instance, if the phrase over the governor's veto were placed immediately after pass, the whole sentence would be clear at once to the reader. The same fault exists in the following: The witness said she had a furnished bedroom for a gentleman 22 feet long by 11 feet wide. 159. Correlative Conjunctions.—The correlative conjunctions, either ... or, neither ... nor, whether ... or, and not only ... but also, are also particularly liable to trip a writer. Each should come immediately before the word or phrase it modifies. For example: Either the prisoner will be hanged or sentenced to life imprisonment. The prisoner will be either hanged or sentenced to life imprisonment. 160. "Only" and "Alone."—Only and alone belong in the same class of modifiers that demand close watching. Only comes immediately before the word or phrase it modifies, alone immediately after. One should avoid using only when alone may be used instead, and should not place either of the two words between emphatic words or phrases. The following illustrates an inaccurate placing of only: The evidence seemed to show that a man could only obtain advancement in the Hall by submitting wholly to the dictates of the leaders. Only here should come immediately before the phrase by submitting. 161. Parenthetic Expressions.—The use of long parenthetic expressions within a sentence is also a frequent cause of lack of clearness. In general, sentences within parentheses should be avoided in news articles. Two short terse sentences are clearer—hence far more effective—than one long one containing a doubtfully clear parenthetic phrase or clause. The prime fault with the following sentence, for instance, is the inclusion of the two parenthetic clauses, necessitating a close reading to get the meaning: Even if the allies shall be able to force the Dardanelles, and present indications are that they will, the wheat crop in Russia will not be up to the average from that country on account of the withdrawal of so many millions of men for purely military purposes, either in the fields of battle or in the factories getting munitions of war ready. Put into two sentences, the illustration becomes: Even if the allies shall be able to fulfil their present expectations of forcing the Dardanelles, the Russian wheat will not be up to the average. Too many millions of men have been withdrawn from the field to the trenches and the munition factories to enable the country to produce a full crop. 162. Shifted Subject.—A shifted subject within a sentence is also usually a hindrance to clearness. Indeed, one can aid clearness in successive sentences by retaining as far as possible the same subject. Certainly one should not shift subjects within the sentence without good reason. The two following sentences exhibit the weakness of the shifted subject: The British ambassador to Norway has offered $25,000 reward for his capture, and he bears a special passport from the Kaiser. Witter was standing near the curb, but the death-car passed without his seeing it. Improved, these sentences become: The British ambassador to Norway has offered $25,000 reward for the capture of Benson, who bears a special passport from the Kaiser. Witter was standing near the curb, but failed to see the death-car pass. Mrs. Alpheus White is on the sick list this week. Dr. Anderson has been with her, but we hope she may soon recover. The connective that the writer should have used, of course, was and, or else none at all. Substitute the and or merely omit the but and the coherence is perfect. 164. Coherence and Unity.—Many sentences that appear to lack unity are really wanting in proper coherence. For instance, Dr. Alvers was called as soon as the accident was discovered, and it is feared now she will not recover, is a sentence lacking in unity, but one that may be unified properly if the coherence is made good. Thus: Dr. Alvers was called as soon as the accident was discovered, and though he gave all the aid that medical science could render, it is feared now she will not recover. This afternoon reports that she was still missing from home were being circulated. But this afternoon and circulated are not the important concepts. Reports and still missing from home are the emphatic ideas and should be put first and last respectively. Thus: Reports were being circulated this afternoon that she was still missing from home. This morning fifty convicts of the Kansas State penitentiary were placed in solitary confinement, accused of being leaders in a mutiny yesterday in the coal mines operated by the penitentiary. This morning and mines operated by the penitentiary are not, however, the important ideas. A better arrangement of the sentence reads: Accused of being leaders in a mutiny yesterday in the penitentiary coal mines, fifty convicts of the Kansas State penitentiary were placed this morning in solitary confinement. Similarly, a phrase or clause transferred from its normal position in the sentence will attract attention to itself. Note the increased emphasis upon the matter was purely political in the following sentence by transference of it from its normal position at the end: Simpson, who was in the uniform of a lieutenant when arrested at New Orleans, said the matter was purely political. That the matter was purely political was the statement made by Simpson, who was in the uniform of a lieutenant when arrested at New Orleans. 166. Proportion for Emphasis.—The emphasis of a sentence in a news story varies in inverse proportion to its length. Emphasis is gained by brevity. A prolix style tires the reader; and newspaper space is valuable. The reporter, therefore, must make his sentences short and pointed. He must condense, must reduce predication to a minimum. As few verbs as possible and all verbs active is a slogan in the news room. It is an error from a newspaper standpoint to include in a sentence any word that may be omitted without altering or obscuring the sense. It is well to understand that a high temperature of heat, boiling or more, destroys the germs of disease. It is well understood that a high temperature, boiling or more, destroys germs. A pioneer living west of Solon blew his head off to-day with a shotgun. Death followed the deed instantly. A pioneer living west of Solon killed himself instantly to-day by blowing his head off with a shotgun. Miss Helen Goodrich, who is an aviatrix of note, was arrested in Bremen this morning charged with kidnapping. Miss Helen Goodrich, an aviatrix of note, was arrested in Bremen this morning charged with kidnapping. Note that in the last illustration, in particular, the condensation consists in reducing predication, in merely removing a verb and a pronoun from the sentence. 167. Repetition.—The worth of repetition as a means of obtaining coherence has been discussed in a preceding chapter. Its value as an effective means of gaining emphasis is also noteworthy. Consider the effect of the repetition of the word blithe in the following two sentences: A blithe young man met a blithe young woman at State and Adams Streets Friday. Michael Hurley, a blithe plain-clothes policeman, met them both. Great care must be exercised, however, in repeating a word for emphasis. The usage may easily be a handicap rather The bride was elaborately gowned in a beautiful sky-blue messaline dress, with silk over lace, and carried a beautiful bouquet of gladiolis, besides having a beautiful bouquet of flowers at the waist. The groom wore the usual blue worsted suit, with a beautiful buttonhole bouquet, while the bridesmaid was beautifully gowned in a white French serge trimmed with a light blue silk girdle and a blue silk tango cord at the throat, and also had a beautiful bouquet at the waist. The best man wore a rich dark gray suit and also had a beautiful buttonhole bouquet. The room was beautifully decorated with green foliage and roses, formed into a beautiful arch, under which the couple stood during the ceremony, which was performed by Rev. Wells of this city. 168. Delicacy of Expression.—Delicacy of expression is that quality in news writing which distinguishes the star reporter from the cub. It may be learned, but never taught. It is this elusive element in writing and the inability of instructors to impart it that make many journalists say news writing cannot be taught. Delicacy of expression is not effeminacy. It is originality; it is cleverness; it is nimbleness of wit and beauty of phrase; it is grace; it is simplicity; it is restraint; it is tact. It is all these, and more. It is that intuition in a star man which forbids his beginning the same kind of story day after day with a fixed, hackneyed type of sentence, which makes him avoid triteness of expression. It is that something in him which compels him to avoid affectation, to love beauty and grace, born of simplicity, unadornedness. It is that inborn sense of good taste that restrains the writer from indelicate, personal allusions THE HAVENS-MERRILL WEDDING At 7:30 the sounds of the wedding march scintillated through the Havens house like tired waves laving the shores of a mighty lake. Seldom if ever has such a scene been witnessed in this place. The smell of spring flowers was everywhere coming to all nostrils. Presently there was a slight disturbance at the right hand entrance, and then the bride entered on the arm of her father, William Havens, the well-known merchant. Simultaneous at the opposite door was another disturbance, and the bridegroom entered attended by Henry Merrill of Des Moines. Then the two parties proceeded down the middle aisles, meeting under a beautiful marriage bell where the two hearts were beautifully made as one, which was followed by congratulations all along the aisles. MR. CRAIG WEDS MISS SCHELL Mr. Joe Craig and Miss Cora Schell, both of Mena, were quietly married at the Hotel Main, Durant, Okla., Monday, and are boarding at this hotel. Mr. Craig is well known as a skilful bricklayer, honest and industrious. The bride is well known in this city and proved her worth by the years she served the Lochridge Dry Goods Company as cashier. She is a member of the Woodmen Circle and carries a large insurance. We regret that she must leave, but like Rebekah of old, she leaves home, family, and friends to travel the journey of life with her "Isaac" (Joe) in a distant land. We feel that the expression of all her friends is that the best this world affords will be theirs to the end of their journey and that a new life awaits them in another and higher sphere. 169. Essentials of the Sentence.—If a reporter can write grammatically correct sentences,—if he can coÖrdinate
170. Accuracy and Interest.—For words, as for sentences and stories, the same law holds,—accuracy and interest. If one's words are accurate and stimulate interest in the reader, they are good. 171. Accuracy.—Accuracy comes first. It is necessary always to write with a nice regard for exact shades of meaning. As Flaubert declared, "Whatever one wishes to say, there is only one noun to express it, only one verb to give it life, only one adjective to qualify it. Search then till that noun, that verb, that adjective is discovered. Never be content with very nearly; never have recourse to tricks, however happy, or to buffoonery of language to avoid a difficulty. This is the way to become original." An accurate writer avoids looseness of thinking and inexactness of expression as he avoids libel. The adjective lurid is an illustration of a word over which careless reporters have stumbled for generations. When the casualties of the war against inaccuracy are recorded, lurid will be among the missing. As used by ignorant scribblers, the word means something like bright or brilliant, or perhaps towering; yet its precise meaning is pale yellow, wan, ghastly. Journalists of the last quarter of the nineteenth century will remember a long list of such sins against precision, recorded by Charles A. Dana, editor of the New York Sun. A few additions have been made to his list, and the whole is given below. The reader should distinguish keenly between each pair of words and should be careful never to misuse one of them. Do not use:
172. Clearness.—To secure interest, a word must be clear and forceful. It should not be technical or big, but simple. The biggest words in the average newspapers are the
174. Trite Phrases.—Interest requires one also to seek originality of expression, to avoid trite phrases and hackneyed words. Embalmed meats and kyanized sentences are never good. Yet one of the most difficult acquirements in reporting is the ability to find day after day a new way to tell of some obscure person dying of pneumonia or heart disease. Only reporters who have fought and overcome the arctic drowsiness of trite phraseology know the difficulty of fighting on day after day, seeking a new, a different way to tell the same old story of suicide or marriage or theft or drowning. Yet one is no longer permitted to say that the bridegroom wore the conventional black, or the bride was elegantly gowned, or the bride's mother presided at the punch bowl, or the assembled guests tripped the light fantastic. The reporter must find new words for everything and must tell all with the same zest and the same sparkling freshness of expression with which he wrote on his first day in the news office. 175. Figures of Speech.—In his search for freshness, variety of expression, the reporter often may avail himself of figures of speech. These add suggestiveness to writing It seemed as if the governor were hurling his glove into the teeth of the advancing wave that was sounding the clarion call of equal suffrage. In particular, one must not personify names of ships, cities, states, and countries. Note, for example, the incongruity in the following: Especially does the man of discriminating taste appreciate her when he compares her with the ordinary tubs sailing the Great Lakes. 176. Elegance.—Force also requires that one heed what may sometimes seem trivialities of good usage. For instance, a minister may not be referred to as Rev. Anderson, but as the Rev. Mr. Anderson. Coinage of titles, too, is not permitted: as Railway Inspector Brown for John Brown, a railway inspector. And the overused "editorial we" has now passed entirely from the news article. In an unsigned story, even the pronoun I should not be used, nor such circumlocutions as the writer, the reporter, or the correspondent. In a signed story, however, the pronoun I is used somewhat freely, while such stilted phrases as the scribe, your humble servant, etc., are absolutely taboo. 177. Slang.—Finally, mention must be made of slang, the uncouth relative in every respectable household. It is used freely on the sporting page, but is barred from other columns, its debarment being due to its lack of elegance and clearness. On the sporting page slang has been accepted because there one is writing to a narrow circle of masculine | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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