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PART III

TYPES OF STORIES

XIV. INTERVIEWS, SPEECHES, COURTS

=178. Four Types of Stories.=--To the casual newspaper reader the various patterns of stories seem all but limitless. To the experienced newspaper man, however, they reduce themselves to seven or eight, and even this number may be further limited. The popular impression comes from the fact that the average reader places an automobile collision and a fire under different heads. Yet for the newspaper's purposes both may be classed under the head of accidents. For the sake of convenience in this study, therefore, we may group under four heads all the news stories that a beginner need be acquainted with in the first year or so of his work: interviews; accidents, society, and sports, to which may be added for separate treatment, rewrites, feature stories, and correspondence stories.

=179. The Interview Type.=--In the present chapter will be discussed the interview type of story, in which are included not only personal interviews, but speeches, sermons, toasts, courts, trials, meetings, conventions, banquets, official reports, and stories about current magazine articles and books. These are all grouped under one head because they derive their interest to the public from the fact that in them men and women present their opinions concerning topics of current interest, and that for newspaper purposes the method of handling interviews is much the same as for the other ten.

=180. Lead to an Interview.=--The lead to a news story of a personal interview may feature any one of the following: (1) the name of the person interviewed, (2) a direct statement from him, (3) an indirect statement, (4) the general topic of the interview, (5) the occasion, or even (6) the time. Probably it is the name of the man or a direct statement that is played up most often. If the former is featured, the lead should begin with the speaker's name and should locate the conversation in time and place. Such a lead may well include also either a direct or an indirect statement, or a general summary of the interview. Thus:

|Professor George Trumbull Ladd of Yale, in an | |interview for The Herald to-day, declared there | |never had been a time in the history of the world | |when there was a greater need for the enforcement of| |international law, nor one when international law | |was so much in the making as at present. |

If a significant statement is of most importance in the interview, the lead should begin with the statement, directly or indirectly expressed, and continue with the speaker's name, the time, place, and occasion of the interview. Thus:

|"What has happened in Mexico is an appalling | |international crime," declared Theodore Roosevelt | |last evening at his home on Sagamore Hill, Oyster | |Bay, L.I. He had been out all the afternoon in the | |woods chopping wood, and was sitting well back from | |the great log fire in the big hall filled with | |trophies of his hunting trips, as he talked of the | |recent massacre of American mining men in Chihuahua.|

|The most damnable act ever passed by Congress or | |conceived by a congressman, was the way in which | |William J. Conners of Buffalo to-day characterized | |the La Follette seamen's law. Mr. Conners is in New | |York on business connected with the Magnus Beck | |Brewing Company, of which he is president. |

=181. Statements of Local Interest.=--Almost always it is well, if possible, to lead the person interviewed to an expression of his opinion about a topic of local interest, then feature that statement,--particularly if the statement agrees with a declared policy of the paper. Usually a problem of civic, state, or national interest may be broached most easily. If the city is interested in commission government or prohibition, if the state is fighting the short ballot or the income tax question, the visitor may be asked for his opinion. If the guest happens to be a national or international personage and the nation is solving the problem of preparedness, or universal military service, or the tariff question, he may be questioned on those subjects and his opinions featured prominently in the lead. Note the following lead to an interview published by a paper opposing the policies of President Wilson:

|Declaring that the national administration's foreign| |policy has made him almost ashamed of being an | |American citizen, Henry B. Joy, of Detroit, Mich., | |president of the Packard Motor Company, a governor | |of the Aero Club of America and vice president of | |the Navy League, said yesterday that our heritage of| |national honor from the days of Washington, Lincoln,| |and McKinley is slipping through our fingers. |

=182. Inquiring about the Feature.=--Often the feature to be developed in an interview lead may be had by asking the one interviewed if he has anything he would like brought out or developed. When the interview has been granted freely, such a question is no more than a courtesy due the prominent man. But only under extraordinary circumstances should a reporter agree to submit his copy for criticism before publication. Many a good story has had all the piquancy taken out of it by giving the one interviewed an opportunity to change his mind or to see in cold print just what he said,--a fact that accounts for so many repudiated interviews. In nine cases out of ten the newspaper man has reported the distinguished visitor exactly, but the write-up looks different from what the speaker expected. Then he denies the whole thing, and the reporter is made the scapegoat, because the man quoted is a public personage and the reporter is not.

=183. Fairness in the Interview.=--The first aim of the interviewer, however, must always be fairness, accuracy, and absence of personal bias. No other journalistic tool can be so greatly abused or made so unfair a weapon as the interview. One should make no attempt to color a man's opinions as expressed in an interview, no matter how much one may disagree, nor should one "editorialize" on those ideas. If the paper cares to discuss their truth or saneness, it will entrust that matter to the editorial writers. This caution does not mean that a writer may not break into the paragraphs of quotation to explain the speaker's meaning or to elaborate upon a possible effect of his position. Such interruptions are regularly made and are entirely legitimate, and it will be noted in the Bryan story on page 131 that most of that article consists of such explanation and elaboration. If, however, the reporter feels that the utterances of the speaker are such that they should not go unchallenged, he should obtain and quote a reply from a local man of prominence.

=184. Coherence and Proportion.=--Next to accuracy there should be kept in view the intent to make the sequence and proportion of the ideas logical, no matter in what order or at what length they may have been given by the one interviewed. Often in conversation a man will give more time to an idea than is its due, and often the most important part of an interview will not be introduced until the last. Or, again, a person may drift away from the immediate topic and not return to it for some minutes. In all such cases it is the duty of the reporter to regroup and develop the ideas so that they shall follow each other logically in the printed interview and shall present the thought and the real spirit of what the man wanted to say.

=185. Identifying the One Interviewed.=--Probably the most used and the easiest method of gaining coherence between the lead and the body of the interview is by a paragraph of explanation regarding the person, and how he came to give the interview. It is remarkable how many readers do not remember or have never heard the name of the governor of New York or the senior senator from California or the Secretary of the Navy, and it is therefore necessary to make entirely clear the position or rank of the person and his right to be heard and believed. In the following story, note how the writer dwells on the rank of the Oxford University professor as a lecturer and so inspires the reader with confidence in his statements:

| =MODERN DRESS CALLED A JOKE= | | | |"Look at our modern dress. Both men's and women's | |costumes are, on the whole, as bad as they can be." | | | |Prof. I. B. Stoughton Holborn of Oxford University | |is in Chicago to deliver a series of lectures on art| |for the University of Chicago Lecture Association. | |In an interview Saturday afternoon he vigorously | |ridiculed modern dress. | | | |Prof. Holborn is perhaps the most widely known of | |the Oxford and Cambridge university extension | |lecturers and has the reputation of being one of the| |most successful art lecturers in the world. He is | |the hero of an adventure on the sinking Lusitania. | |He saved Avis Dolphin, a 12-year-old child who was | |being sent to England to be educated. The two women | |in whose charge Mrs. Dolphin had sent her daughters | |were lost, and Prof. Holborn has adopted the | |child.... |

=186. Handling Conversation.=--It should not be necessary to caution a newspaper man against attempting to report all a man says. "Condense as often as possible" is the interviewer's watchword,--"cut to the bone," as the reporters express it. Much of what a man says in conversation is prolix. In that part of the interview that is dull or wordy, give the pith of what is said in one or two brief sentences, then fall into direct quotation again when his words become interesting. As a rule, however, it is well as far as possible to quote his exact language all through the interview, since the interest of an interview frequently rests not only in what a man says, but in the way he says it. This does not mean a cut-and-dried story consisting of a series of questions and answers, but a succession of sparkling, personal paragraphs containing the direct statements of the speaker.

=187. Mannerisms.=--The report may be livened up greatly with bits of description portraying the speaker and his surroundings, particularly when they harmonize or contrast with his character or the ideas expressed. An excellent device for presenting the spirit of an interview--giving an atmosphere, as it were--is to interpolate at intervals in the story personal eccentricities or little mannerisms of speech of the one interviewed. Mention of pet phrases, characteristic gestures, sudden display of anger, unexplainable reticence in answering questions, etc., will sometimes be more effective than columns of what the speaker actually said. Indeed, it is often of as much importance to pay as close attention to incidentals as to the remarks of the one talking.

=188. Persons Refusing to Talk.=--In nine cases out of ten it is the reporter's duty both to keep himself out of the story and to suppress the questions by which the man interviewed has been induced to talk. But when he has failed entirely in gaining admission to one he wishes to interview, or, having gained admission, has not succeeded in making him talk, the would-be interviewer may still present a good story by narrating his foiled efforts or by quoting the questions which the great man refused to answer. One of the most brilliant examples that the present writer has seen of the foiled interview was one by Mr. John Edwin Nevin the day before Mr. William Jennings Bryan surrendered his portfolio as Secretary of State in President Wilson's cabinet. The nation was at white heat over the contents of the prospective note to Germany and the possibility of the United States being drawn into the war. Not a word of what the note contained had leaked from any source and there had been no hint of a break in the Wilson cabinet. Supposedly, all was harmony. Yet this correspondent, judging from the excited manner of the Secretary of State, the sharpness of his noncommittal replies, and his preoccupied air as he emerged from the cabinet room, scented the trouble and published the following story hours before other correspondents had their eyes opened to the history-making events occurring about them:

| =BRYAN BALKS AT GERMAN NOTE= | | | |Washington, D. C., June 8.--President Wilson at 1:15| |this afternoon announced, through Secretary Tumulty,| |that at the cabinet meeting to-day the note to | |Germany "was gone over and discussed and put in | |final shape, and it is hoped that it will go | |to-morrow," but Secretary of State Bryan is | |determined to fight for a modification right up to | |the minute that the note is cabled to Berlin. | | | |Bryan believes the United States is on record for | |arbitration and that it would be a mockery to send | |Germany a document which, he considers, savors of an| |ultimatum. Although the majority of the cabinet was | |against him to-day, he carried his persuasive powers| |from the cabinet meeting to the University Club, | |where he and his fellow members had lunch. | | | |Bryan's attitude came as a complete surprise to the | |President. In previous notes Mr. Bryan took the | |position that the United States should invite | |arbitration. He called attention to the fact that | |this country is on record as unalterably opposed to | |war and pledged to every honorable means to prevent | |it. | | | |But in every instance he has stopped short of any | |further fight when the note has been approved by the| |majority of the cabinet. And the President expected | |that he would do this to-day. In fact, before the | |cabinet meeting it was stated that the note would | |have the approval of all members of the cabinet. | | | |The first intimation that anything was wrong came | |when the Secretary did not show up at the executive | |offices with the other cabinet members. His absence | |was not at first commented upon because Count von | |Bernstorff, the German ambassador, was at the state | |department. However, it was soon ascertained that | |the ambassador was conferring with Counselor | |Lansing. | | | |Then it was rumored that Secretary Bryan had sent | |word to President Wilson that he would not stand for| |the note as framed. Inquiry at the White House | |revealed the fact that Secretary Bryan had sent word| |that he would be in his office, working on an | |important paper, and would be late. At the state | |department, Eddie Savoy, the Secretary's colored | |messenger, refused to take any cards in to Bryan. He| |said he did not know whether his chief actually | |intended attending the meeting. | | | |"He is very busy, and I cannot disturb him," Eddie | |stated. | | | |At the White House a distinct air of tension was | |manifested. All inquiries as to what Secretary Bryan| |was going to do were ignored. | | | |Finally, about 12 o'clock, Secretary Bryan left his | |office and came across the street. His face was | |flushed and his features hard set. He responded to | |inquiries addressed to him with negative shakes of | |the head. He swung into the cabinet room with the | |set stride with which he mounted the steps of the | |Baltimore platform to deliver his famous speech | |attacking Charles F. Murphy and Tammany Hall, and | |precipitating his break with Champ Clark, whose | |nomination for the presidency up to that time seemed| |assured. | | | |For more than an hour after he reached the cabinet | |room the doors were closed. Across the hall the | |President's personal messenger had erected a screen | |to keep the curious at a distance. | | | |At last the door was thrown open with a bang. First | |to emerge were Secretaries McAdoo and Redfield, who | |brushed through the crowd of newspaper | |representatives. They referred all inquiries to the | |President. Secretary of War Garrison came out alone.| |He refused to say a word regarding the note. There | |was an interval of nearly ten minutes. Then | |Secretaries Daniels and Wilson came out. Behind them| |was Attorney General Gregory, and, bringing up the | |rear, was Secretary Bryan. Bryan's face was still | |set. His turned-down collar was damp and his face | |was beaded with perspiration. | | | |"Was the note to Germany completed?" he was asked. | | | |"I cannot discuss what transpired at the cabinet | |meeting," was his sharp reply. | | | |"Can you clear up the mystery and tell us when the | |note will go forward to Berlin?" persisted | |inquirers. | | | |"That I would not care to discuss," said the | |Secretary, as he joined Secretary Lane. "I am not in| |a position to make any announcement of any sort now.| |I will tell you when the note actually has started."| | | |Ordinarily, Secretary Bryan goes from a cabinet | |meeting to his office, drinks a bottle of milk and | |eats a sandwich. To-day he entered Secretary Lane's | |carriage and, with Lane and Secretary Daniels, | |proceeded to the University Club for luncheon. | | | |It is understood that Secretary Bryan took to the | |cabinet meeting a memorandum in which he justified | |his views that the proposed note is not of a | |character that the United States should send to | |Germany. He took the position that the United | |States, in executing arbitration treaties with most | |of the countries of the world, took a direct | |position against war. As he put it, on great | |questions of national honor, the sort that make for | |welfare, arbitration is the only remedy. | | | |Secretary Bryan is understood to have urged that the| |United States could stand firmly for its rights and | |not close the doors to any explanation that | |Germany--or any other belligerent--might make. It is| |understood that Bryan pointed out that Germany had | |accepted the principles of the arbitration treaties | |as a general proposition, but failed to execute the | |treaty because of the European War breaking out. Her| |opponents enjoy the advantages under such a treaty, | |and Secretary Bryan insisted that Germany should not| |be denied the same rights.... | | | |Although Secretary Bryan will continue his efforts | |to modify the note, persons close to the President | |insist that he will fail. The President is said to | |have decided, after hearing all arguments, that the | |safest course is to remain firm in the demand that | |American rights under international law be | |preserved. And it is expected that when the note is | |finally O. K.'d by Counselor Lansing, it will be | |sent to Germany. | | | |There is speculation as to whether Secretary Bryan | |will sign the note as Secretary of State. He has | |angrily refused to take any positive position on the| |subject. If he should refuse, his retirement from | |the cabinet would be certain. Bryan's friends insist| |that he has been loyal to the President and has made| |many concessions to meet the latter's wishes. They | |believe that he will content himself with a protest | |and again bow to the will of his chief. But there | |was no way of getting any confirmation of this | |opinion from Bryan. | | | |This is the first serious friction that has | |developed in President Wilson's cabinet. Politicians| |declare it will have far-reaching effect. Bryan has | |fought consistently for arbitration principles. And | |he now considers, some of his friends think, that | |they have been ridden over rough-shod.[19]... |

[19] John Edwin Nevin in _The Omaha News_, June 8, 1915.

The next morning President Wilson announced his acceptance of Mr. Bryan's resignation as Secretary of State.

=189. Value of Inference in the Foiled Interview.=--The reporter who would attain success in his profession should not fail to study with care this story by Mr. Nevin, to learn not so much what the story contains as what the person who wrote it had to know and had to be able to do before he could turn out such a piece of work. One should analyze it to see how startlingly few new facts the correspondent had in his possession at the time he was writing, and how he played up those lonesome details with a premonition of coming events that was uncanny. Above all, the prospective reporter should observe with what rare judgment and accuracy the writer noted in Mr. Bryan's demeanor a few distinctive incidents which were at once both trivial and yet laden with suggestions of events to come. To produce this story the writer had to know not only a man, but men. A cub would have got nothing; this man scooped the best correspondents of the nation.

=190. Series of Interviews.=--In a story containing a number of interviews, let the lead feature the consensus of opinion expressed in the interviews. Then follow in the body with the individual quotations, each man's name being placed prominently at the beginning of the paragraph containing his interview, so that in a rapid reading of the story the eye may catch readily the change from the words of one man to another. When there is a large number of such interviews, the name may even be set in display type at the beginning of the paragraph. If, however, the persons interviewed are not at all prominent, but their statements are worth while, the quotations may be given successively and the names buried within the paragraph.

=191. Leads for Speeches.=--In comparison with handling an interview, a report of a speech is an easy task. In the case of the sermon or the lecture, typewritten copies are almost always available and the thoughts are presented in orderly sequence. So if the reporter has followed the advice given in Part II, Chapter VII, and taken longhand notes of a speech, or has not been so engrossed in mere note-taking that he has been unable to follow the trend of the speaker's thought, he will experience comparatively little trouble in writing up the speech. He may begin in any one of a half-dozen or more ways. He may feature: (1) the speaker's theme; (2) the title of the address, which may or may not be the theme; (3) a sentence or a paragraph of forceful direct quotation; (4) an indirect quotation of one or more dynamic statements; (5) the speaker's name; (6) the occasion of the speech; or (7) the time or the place of delivery. Any one of these may be played up according to its importance in the address.

=192. Featuring a Single Sentence.=--Of the seven or eight different kinds of lead, a quotation of a single sentence or a single paragraph is happiest if one can be found that will give the keynote of the speech or will harmonize with a declared policy of the paper. Thus:

|"The devil has gone out of fashion. After a long and| |honorable career as truant officer, he has finally | |been buried with his fathers. That is why twentieth | |century men and women don't attend church." Such was| |Dr. Amos Buckwin's explanation yesterday of the | |church-going problem. |

=193. Random Statements.=--Emphasis should be laid on the value of playing up in the lead even a random statement if it chances to agree with a specific policy or campaign to which the paper has committed itself. In a non-political address or sermon an unwary statement touching national, state, or city politics makes an excellent feature if it favors the policies of the paper. Its worth lies in the fact that it is manifestly unprejudiced and advanced by the speaker with no ulterior motive. On the other hand, such a statement may well be ignored if opposed to the paper's political or civic views. For example, note in the following lead a feature played up solely because the paper was Democratic in its politics:

|"I was a student in one of the classes taught by | |Woodrow Wilson. Anyone who has ever seen the lower | |part of his facial anatomy knows that when he says | |'no' he does not mean 'yes,'" said Bishop Theodore | |Henderson at the Methodist Church yesterday morning.| | | |It was not a political sermon. Aside from what | |political significance the above quotation might | |have, there was nothing political about his | |discourse. He brought it out in referring to the | |President doing away with the inaugural ball in | |1915, which he nearly classed as a drunken orgy run | |by politicians. He was emphasizing the President's | |"no," that his family would not be present even if | |he himself had to attend. |

As in this story, however, the writer must be careful always to make clear the precise relation of the featured quotation to the speech as a whole.

=194. Indirect Quotation.=--The chief reason for quoting indirectly in the lead a single statement of a speaker is the need of shifting an important point to the very first.

|That an inordinate indulgence in mere amusement is | |softening the fiber of the American nation and | |sapping its vitality, was the statement of Allen A. | |Pendel, president of the Southwest Press Company, at| |the monthly meeting of the Crust Breakers, Saturday.|

=195. Title Featured.=--The use of the subject of the speech as a feature is advisable when it is particularly happy or when it expresses the theme of the address.

|"The National Importance of Woman's Health" was the | |subject of Dr. A. T. Schofield's lecture at the | |Institute of Hygiene, Wednesday. |

|Taking as his subject, "The Tragedy of the | |Unprepared," the Rev. Otis Colleman delivered a | |powerful attack in Grace Church Sunday against | |unpreparedness in one's personal life and in the | |home, the state, and the nation. |

=196. Theme Featured.=--The theme may be featured when a single-sentence quotation cannot readily be found and the subject does not indicate the nature of the address.

=197. Summary Lead.=--Oftentimes the theme lead shades into a summarizing lead and the two become one of indirect quotation. Long summarizing leads of speeches are to be avoided as a rule, since they are liable to become overloaded and cumbersome. When using this lead, the writer must be particularly careful to see that the individual clauses are relatively short and simple in structure and that the relation of each to the other and to the sentence as a whole is absolutely clear.

|Stating that the public schools are the greatest | |instrument for the development of socialism in this | |country, that the socialists must get control of the| |courts, that the party is not developing as rapidly | |at present as it did a few years ago, and that the | |opportunity that exists in this country for the | |individual has been largely to blame for the slow | |development of the Socialist party in America, John | |C. Kennedy, Socialist speaker and member of the | |Chicago common council, spoke on "The Outlook for | |Socialism in America" at the Social Democratic | |picnic held in Pabst Park on Sunday. |

=198. Speaker's Name Featured.=--The speaker's name comes first, of course, only when he is sufficiently prominent locally or nationally to justify featuring him.

|Billy Sunday made the devil tuck his tail between | |his legs and skedaddle Friday night. |

|Justice Charles E. Hughes, of the Supreme Court of | |the United States, came to New York yesterday as the| |guest of the New York State Bar Association, which | |is holding its thirty-ninth annual meeting in this | |city. In the evening at the Astor Hotel he delivered| |a scholarly address before that body on the topic, | |"Some Aspects of the Development of American Law." | |Then he shook hands with several hundreds of the | |members of the association and their friends, turned| |around and went right back again to the seclusion of| |the Supreme Court Chamber in Washington. |

=199. Featuring the Occasion.=--Featuring the occasion of a speech or the auspices under which it was given is justifiable only when the speech and the speaker are of minor importance.

|Before the first hobo congress ever held in the | |world William Eads Howe, millionaire president of | |the convention, spoke Monday on the need of closer | |union among passengers on the T. P. and W. |

=200. Featuring Time and Place.=--Only rarely is the time or the place featured. But either may be played up when sufficiently important.

|Speaking from the door of Col. Henry Cook's chicken | |house on Ansley Road to an audience of 250 colored | |brethren in a neighboring barn, the Rev. Ezekiel | |Butler, colored, began in a pouring rain Sunday | |night the first service of the annual Holly Springs | |open-air meetings. |

=201. Featuring Several Details.=--When the speaker, the subject, the occasion, and the place are all important, it may be needful to make a long summarizing lead of several paragraphs, explaining all these features in detail. In such a case a quarter- or a half-column may be required before one can get to the address itself. The following story of President Wilson's first campaign speech for reëlection, delivered at Pittsburgh on January 29, 1916, is an illustration:

=WILSON BEGINS CAMPAIGN= _Name first_

_Occasion_

|He opened here to-day the most momentous | |speech-making tour perhaps made by a President | |within a generation with an appeal to keep national | |preparedness out of partisan politics and to give it| |no place as a possible campaign issue. |

_Effect on Audience_

|The nonpartisanship urged by the President was | |reflected in Pittsburg's greeting to the executive. |

_Circumstances and Place_

|A Republican ex-Congressman, James Francis Burke, | |presided at the meeting under the auspices of the | |chamber of commerce in Soldiers' Memorial Hall. | |"Preparedness is a matter of patriotism, not of | |party," he said. |

_Story backtracks here_

_Audience_

|Pittsburg's welcome to the President and Mrs. Wilson| |was warm, but not demonstrative. When the | |speechmaking began, Memorial Hall was packed with an| |audience of 4,500, while on the steps and plaza | |outside some 8,000 or 10,000 men and women surged, | |unable to get admission, but eager to get a glimpse | |of the executive and his bride. |

_Reception by Audience_

|When the presidential party, Mrs. Wilson in front, | |filed on the platform there was a demonstration, | |brief but spontaneous, the first lady of the land | |drawing as prolonged applause as her husband on his | |appearance. |

_Attitude of Audience_

|The audience was an intent one. Its pose was one of | |keen attention to the President's utterances. |

_Applause_

|Occasionally a particularly facile phrase, such as | |when the President spoke of the need of "spiritual | |efficiency" as a basis for military efficiency, | |started the hand-clapping and gusts of applause | |swept through the hall. |

_General Effect of the Visit_

|For Pennsylvania, Republican stronghold, which gave | |Roosevelt a plurality of 51,000 over Wilson in 1912,| |the reception accorded the President is regarded as | |quite satisfactory. Downtown in the business | |district there was hardly a ripple. |

_Inquisitive Crowds_

|But in the neighborhood of the Hotel Schenley, out | |by the Carnegie Institute, a large crowd turned out | |a few hours after the President's arrival and kept | |their glances on the seventh floor, which was banked| |in roses and orchids. |

_Beginning of the Speech_

|"As your servant and representative, I should come | |and report to you on our public affairs," the | |President began. "It is the duty of every public man| |to hold frank counsel with the people he | |represents."[20] ... |

[20] Arthur M. Evans in _The Chicago Herald_, January 30, 1916.

=202. Body of the Story.=--In writing the body of the story, the first thing to strive for is proper coherence with the lead. This caution is worth particular heed when the lead contains a single-sentence quotation, an indirect question, or a paragraph of direct statement from somewhere in the body of the speech. Few things are more incongruous in a story than a clever epigrammatic lead and a succession of quoted statements following, none of which exhibits a definite bearing on the lead. Oftentimes this incongruity is produced by the reporter's attempt to follow the precise order adopted by the speaker. Such an order, however, should be manifestly impossible in a news report when the writer has dug out for use in the lead a lone sentence or paragraph from the middle of the speech. Rather, one should continue such a lead with a paragraph or so of development, then follow with paragraphs of direct quotation which originally may or may not have preceded the idea featured in the lead.

=203. Accuracy.=--The second consideration must be the same accuracy and fairness that was emphasized in the discussion of the interview. Some reporters, for instance, take the liberty of putting within quotation marks, as though quoted directly, whole paragraphs that they know are not given verbatim, their grounds for the liberty being that they know they are reporting the speaker with entire accuracy, and the use of "quotes" gives the story greater emphasis and intimacy of appeal. This liberty is to be condemned. When a reporter puts quotation marks about a phrase or clause, he declares to his readers that the other man, not he, is responsible for the statement exactly as printed. And even though a man may think he is reporting a speaker with absolute precision, there is always the possibility that he may have misunderstood. Indeed, it is just these chance misunderstandings that trip reporters and frequently necessitate speakers' denying published accounts of their lectures. Only what one has taken down verbatim should be put within quotation marks. All else should be reported indirectly with an unwavering determination to convey the real spirit of the lecture or sermon, not to play up an isolated or random subtopic that has little bearing on the speech as a whole. Any reporter can find in any lecture statements which, taken without the accompanying qualifications, may be adroitly warped to make the story good and the speaker ridiculous in the eyes of the reading public.

=204. Speech Story as a Whole.=--The story as a whole should be a little speech in itself. Whole topics may be omitted. Others that possibly occupied pages of manuscript and took several minutes to present may be cut down to a single sentence. Still others may be presented in full. But the quotation marks and the cohering phrases, such as "said he," "continued the speaker," "Mr. Wilson said in part," etc., should be carefully inserted so as to make it entirely clear to the reader when the statements are a condensation of the speaker's remarks and when they are direct quotations. Such connecting phrases, however, should be placed in unemphatic positions within the paragraph and should have their form so varied as not to attract undue attention. And as in the interview, the report as a whole should be livened up at intervals with phrases and paragraphs calling attention to characteristic gestures, facial expressions, and individual eccentricities of the speaker's person, manner, or dress.

=205. Series of Speeches.=--When reporting a series of speeches, as at a banquet, convention, political picnic, or a holiday celebration, it generally is the best policy to play up at length the strongest address, or else the speech of the most important personage, then summarize the remaining talks in a paragraph or so at the end of the story. If all are of about equal importance, the lead may feature the general trend of thought of the different speakers or else some single startling statement setting forth the character and spirit of the meeting. The story may then proceed with summarizing quotations or indirect statements of the individual speakers, giving each space according to the value of his address. Where the body of the story is made up of direct and indirect quotations from several speeches, the speaker's name should come first in the paragraph in which he is quoted, so that the eye of the reader running rapidly down the column may catch readily that portion of the story given to each person quoted.

=206. Banquets, Conventions, etc.=--Not always, however, are speeches important, or even delivered, on these social, political, and holiday occasions. If not, the reporter must devote his attention to the occasion, to any unusual incidents or events, or to the persons attending. In reporting banquets, it may be the persons present, the novelty of the favors, the originality of the menu, or the occasion itself that must be featured. In conventions it may be the purpose or expected results, certain effects on national or state legislation, or any departures or new ideas in evidence. In reporting conventions of milliners, tailors, jewelers, and the like, one can always find excellent features in the incoming styles. The public is greedy for stories of advance styles. In political picnics the feature is practically always the speeches, though sometimes there are athletic contests that provide good copy and may be presented in accordance with Part III, Chapter XVI. In holiday celebrations also the feature may be speeches or athletic contests, or else parades of floats, fraternal orders, soldiers, etc. Usually, however, the occurrence of some untoward accident that mars the occasion itself furnishes a story feature of greater importance than the monotony of the parade and the contests.

=207. Current Magazine Articles, etc.=--News stories of articles appearing in current magazines, books, government publications, educational journals, and the like are of the same type as stories of addresses. The lead may feature the theme, the title, the author, a single sentence, an entire paragraph, the society or organization publishing the article or report, or even the motive back of the article. And the body follows usually with direct quotations summarizing the whole. Such news stories generally are very readable, particularly if they are timely. But the reporter must be careful to avoid extended analysis or learned comment. A long catalogue of errors with the page on which each may be found is good in scholarly magazines, but worthless in news columns. The reporter's office is to write for the entertainment and enlightenment of the public, not for the instruction of the author about whose article he is writing. Hence he should report only those details that are of interest to the readers of his journal.

=208. Courts.=--Court, trial, and inquest stories are but a combination of the methods of handling interviews and speeches, the questions and answers of the attorneys and witnesses being the interviews, the arguments of the lawyers and the decisions of the court being the speeches. The writing of the court story as a whole follows closely the method already outlined for interviews and speeches. The lead, however, varies greatly accordingly to the stage of the court proceedings. If a verdict has been brought in, the guilt or innocence of the defendant, the penalty imposed, or an application for a rehearing may be featured, and the body of the story continues with a statement from the prisoner, quotations from the speeches of the opposing attorneys, and the judge's charge to the jury. If the trial has reached only an intermediate stage, the lead may feature the cause of the court proceedings, a significant bit of testimony, the name of an important witness, the point reached in the day's work, the probable length of the trial, any unusual clash of the attorneys over the admission of certain testimony, or possibly the prisoner's changed attitude resulting from the long nervous strain. Then the body, as in reports of speeches, may follow with interesting bits of quotation from the testimony or from the arguments of the attorneys, with summarizing paragraphs of the evidence and the proceedings as a whole. Occasionally, in order to bring out significant points in the depositions, it may become necessary to quote verbatim questions and answers in the cross-examination, but generally a more readable story may be had by reporting the testimony continuously and omitting the questions altogether. Even when playing up a court decision, it is rarely wise to quote large extracts verbatim, owing to the heaviness of legal expression and the frequent use of technical terms. Only when the form of the decision, as well as the facts, is vital, should the language of the decree be quoted at length. And even then it is better, as a rule, to print the entire decision separately and write an independent summarizing story. When writing up trials continued from preceding days, one must be careful to connect the story with what has gone before, explaining who the persons are, the cause of their appearance in court, and where the trial is being conducted. Only in this way can readers who have not kept up with the trial understand the present story.

=209. Humorous Court Stories.=--A word of caution must be given against the temptation to write court stories humorously at the expense of accuracy and the feelings of those unfortunate ones drawn into public notice by some one's transgression of law or ethics. The law of libel and its far-reaching power has been dwelt on in Part II, Chapter X, and it need not be emphasized here that libel lurks in wrong street numbers, misspelled names, misplaced words and phrases, and even in accidental resemblance between names and between personal descriptions. But the reporter should be cautioned against warping facts for the sake of making a good story. Those who stand before the bar of justice, no matter for what cause, how wrong or how right, are keenly sensitive about even the publication of their names. Indeed, it is fear of newspaper notoriety that keeps many a man from seeking and obtaining that justice which is due every individual at the hands of the law. The present writer has seen many an innocent person in a state of nervous collapse over a barbed thrust made by a satirizing humorist in the columns of a paper. No criticism is made of true reports; objection is made only to those warped for the sake merely of producing a good story. In a leading Southern paper appeared the following:

| =FROGEYE HAD A RIVAL= | | | | Come er lef'! come er right! come er rag an' | | shawl! | | Come to yo' honey-bunch straight down de hall! | | Up towa'd de front do', back towa'd de wall, | | Gimme room to scramble at de Potlicker Ball! | | | |"What's this?" demanded the judge ferociously. | |"Another Potlicker row? I'm going to have to do | |something about you folks. You're always in hot | |water." | | | |The defendants--a weird assortment of the youth and | |beauty of the Black Belt, their finery somewhat | |damaged after a night behind the bars--shifted | |uneasily on their respective number nines. A | |cross-eyed mulatto had the courage to speak, albeit | |a trifle morosely. | | | |"Us ain't in no hot water, jedge," she drawled. "Us | |ain't been doin' nothin' but dancin'." | | | |"What's your name, girl?" inquired the clerk. | | | |He was answered by Frogeye, who celebrated his | |latest release from gaol by attending the Potlicker | |Ball. "Dat's Three-Finger Fanny," stated Frogeye in | |a voice of authority. "She done start de hull | |rucus." | | | |Three-Finger Fanny bridled. Before she could open | |her mouth, Frogeye plunged into the tale: "Ef it | |hadn't er been fo' dat three-fingered, cross-eyed, | |blistered-footed gal we'd er been dar dancin' yit. | |But she an Bugabear spill de beans. She come up ter | |me an' say, 'Mister Frogeye, kin you ball de Jack?' | |I tells her she don't see no chains on me, do she? | |An' we whirl right in. Hoccome I knowed she promise | |dat dance ter Bugabear? We ain't ball de Jack twice | |'roun' fo' heah he come wid er beer bottle shoutin' | |dat I done tuk his gal erway. I'se 'bleeged ter | |'fend mahse'f, ain't I, jedge? Well, den!" | | | |The conclusion of Frogeye's story lacked climax, but| |apparently the judge got the gist of it, for he | |said: "It seems to me all of you dancers need a | |summer vacation. They say there's nothing like a | |little arm work to improve the grip. Thirty days, | |everybody!" |

But every reader knows that in one round-up of negro malefactors, characters such as Frogeye, Three-Finger Fanny, and Bugabear are not going to be arrested at one "Potlicker Ball." The story is a good one if the reader will suspend his sense of realism sufficiently to enjoy it. But in its purport to be a true account of an arrest and a trial of certain persons, it makes one doubt first the story, then the newspaper that printed it, and finally newspapers in general. And so develops one of the main causes of criticism of the modern newspaper. A reporter must resolve to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. A journal loses its power the moment it is wrong.

XV. ACCIDENT, CRIME

=210. Accident and Crime Stories.=--Accident and crime stories are grouped together because they are handled alike and because they differ from each other only in point of view, or in the fact that in the one some one is guilty of lawbreaking, while in the other the participants are merely unfortunate. The two, of course, frequently overlap, since a death or a wreck which at first may seem purely accidental may later prove to have been the result of a criminal act. In this chapter, however, accident stories will be taken to include fires, street-car smash-ups, railroad wrecks, automobile collisions, runaways, explosions, mine disasters, strokes of lightning, drownings, floods, storms, shipwrecks, etc. In the list of crime will be placed murders, assaults, suicides, suspicious deaths, robberies, embezzlements, arson, etc. Of the accident class, the method of writing a fire story may be taken as a type for the whole group.

=211. Lead to a Fire Story.=--Ordinarily the lead to a story of a fire should tell what was destroyed, the location of the property, the extent of the damage, the occupants or owners, the time, the cause, and what made the loss possible,--answering, in other words, the questions _who_, _what_, _when_, _where_, _why_, _how_, and _how much_. Thus:

|Fire originating in a pile of shavings crawled | |across a 100-yard stretch of dry Bermuda grass at an| |early hour this morning, destroying the cotton | |warehouse at 615 Railroad Street, owned by J. O. | |Hunnicut, president of the First National Bank. The | |loss is $25,000 with no insurance. |

=212. Lives Lost or Endangered.=--The fire lead may feature any one or more of a dozen individual incidents. Loss of, or danger to, life, unless other features are exceptional, should take precedence over every other particular.

|Six women are dead and ten seriously injured as a | |result of the destruction by fire, Tuesday morning, | |of the Gold and Green Club, 1818 Chestnut Street, | |entailing a loss of $30,000. |

=213. Lists of Killed or Wounded.=--In writing a story where a number of persons have been killed or injured, the reporter should observe the following directions:

1. Separate the names of the dead from those of the injured, putting the list of dead first.

2. Record the names in alphabetical order, placing surnames first.

3. Put each name, with the age, address, occupation or business, nature and extent of the injury, and any care given, in a separate paragraph.

4. Underscore the names with wave lines so that they shall be printed in display type.

=214. Acts of Heroism.=--Acts of heroism involving danger to or loss of life are always good for features.

|Remaining at her post through the thick of the fire | |that destroyed the heart of Necedah to-day, | |Wisconsin's only woman telephone magnate, Miss Hazel| |Bulgar, proved the heroine of the day. While the | |flames threatened her building, she took the | |switchboard herself, called the fire departments of | |all neighboring cities, and transmitted calls for | |help. |

=215. Remarkable Escapes.=--Remarkable escapes from burning buildings, in their appeal to the elemental struggle for life, make valuable features.

|Using a window blind and a single thread of | |telephone wire as a means of escape, Carl Hardiman, | |24, 216 Northcliff avenue, swung himself into space | |four stories above the level of the street at 8:00 | |o'clock this morning and crawled hand over hand from| |the burning wax factory to a telephone pole across | |the street. |

=216. Humorous, Pathetic, or Daring Incidents.=--Humorous, pathetic, or daring incidents are worth featuring strongly, particularly when they involve children, aged persons, or animals.

|Tige, aged 4, was only a collie dog, but he will | |have the biggest funeral to-morrow ever given a | |member of the Lilliman family. He dragged two of the| |children out of the blazing kitchen at 487 | |Birmingham avenue and was so badly burned trying to | |save the nine months baby, Dan, that he died this | |morning. Every hair was burned from his body. |

|Just inside the front entrance, within six inches of| |God's fresh air and life, the bodies of 21 girls, | |ranging in age from 6 to 18 years, were found this | |morning after the fire that destroyed the St. | |Patrick's Girls' school. |

=217. Cause of Fire.=--The cause of the fire, if unusual or mysterious, may be featured.

=218. Buildings or Property.=--The particular buildings, if especially valuable by reason of their age, location, or cost of construction, may be features.

|Historic Grace Episcopal Church in South Wabash | |Avenue, considered one of the finest examples of | |French Gothic architecture in the city since it was | |erected nearly fifty years ago, was destroyed to-day| |in a fire that did damage estimated at $500,000. | | | |The main building of the Union Switch and Signal | |Company, of the Westinghouse interests, at | |Swissvale, where thousands of shells have been | |manufactured for the Allies, was swept by fire this | |afternoon, entailing a loss estimated at $4,000,000.| |Officials of the company said that the origin of the| |fire had not been determined. |

=219. Other Features.=--Similarly, one may feature any one of a number of other particulars: as, the occupants of the building, the owners, any prominent persons involved, the amount and character of the damage, the amount of insurance, how the fire was discovered, how it spread, when the alarm was given, the promptness or delay of the fire department, etc. Any one of these particulars may be featured, provided it has unusual importance or interest.

=220. Body of the Fire Story.=--The body of the fire story may continue with such of the details enumerated in the preceding paragraphs as are not used in the lead. Somewhere in the story the extent of the damage and the amount of insurance should be given. Those are sufficiently important particulars to be included always. Greater emphasis and action can be given the story, particularly in case of loss of life or great damage, by quoting direct statements of eye-witnesses or of persons injured. A janitor's account of how the fire started, or how he discovered it, or a woman's story of how she knew the night before that something terrible was going to happen, always adds greatly to the interest.

=221. Rumors at Fires.=--In reporting a fire, however, particularly a big one, the reporter should guard against the wild rumors about the extent of the loss, the number of persons injured or burned to death, the certainty of arson, etc., which usually gain currency among the spectators. Such stories are always exaggerated, and they account for the fact that first news accounts of fires are frequently overdrawn. The reporter should never take such stories at their face value, but should investigate for himself until he knows his details are accurate. Or if he cannot prove them either false or true, he should omit them entirely or record them as mere rumors. Above all, he must keep his head. With the hundreds--sometimes thousands--of spectators pushed beyond the fire lines, the roar of fire engines, the scream of whistles, the wild lights, and the general pandemonium, it is often difficult to remain calm. Yet it is only by keeping absolutely cool that one can judge accurately the value of the information obtained and can put that information into the best news form. Only the reporter who at all times retains entire possession of himself is able to write the most forceful, interesting, and readable fire stories.

=222. Accident Stories in General.=--Accident stories in general follow the same constructive plans as those given for fires. The lead should play up the number of lives lost or endangered, the cause of the accident, the extent of the damage or injury, the time, and the place, answering the questions _who_, _what_, _when_, _where_, _why,_ and _how_. Any one of these may be featured according to its importance. If a number of persons have been killed or hurt, and their names are obtainable, a list of the dead and the injured should be made as indicated on page 150. Then the body of the story may continue in simple chronological order, reserving unimportant details until the last. The following is a good illustration of an accident story:

| =DU PONT BLAST KILLS 31= | | | |Wilmington, Del., Nov. 29.--Thirty-one men were | |killed and six fatally injured to-day in an | |explosion of approximately four tons of black powder| |in a packing house at the Upper Hagley yard of the | |E. I. du Pont de Nemours & Co., on Brandywine Creek,| |three miles north of this city. | | | |The cause of the explosion is not known. One | |official says, "There is not a thread on which to | |hang any hope that the origin will be definitely | |ascertained." | | | |After the blast, termed the worst in the last | |twenty-five years, it was recalled that notices | |recently had been tacked on trees and fences near | |the yards, and even on fences within the plant, | |warning workmen to quit the mills by Jan. 1. At the | |time, the posting of the notices was believed to be | |an attempt by German sympathizers to intimidate the | |men. Extra guards were ordered about the plants and | |the United States Secret Service began an | |investigation, it was reported. | | | |Du Pont Company officials have ordered a searching | |investigation, and every employee who was near the | |destroyed building will be put through an | |examination in an effort to get some clue as to the | |cause of the explosion....[21] |

[21] _New York World_, December 1, 1915.

It is worth noting, in this story, the shrewdness with which the reporter plays up the probable cause of the accident, adding to the actual facts and promising possible further developments in to-morrow's paper.

=223. Stories of the Weather.=--The weather takes its place in the accident division of news stories because of its frequent harmful effects on life and property. Men's pursuits are all a gamble on the weather. Usually a story about the weather depends for its value largely on the felicity of its language, though when there has been severe atmospheric disturbance, resulting in loss of life, destruction of property, or delayed traffic, a simple narrative of events is sufficient to hold the reader's attention. The following are different types of weather story, the first being of the pure accident type, the second, of the more commonplace daily routine.

| =TERRIFIC STORM KILLS 4= | | | |Rain, hail, snow, sleet, gales, thunder and | |lightning combined in an extraordinary manner early | |yesterday to give New York one of the most peculiar | |storms the city ever experienced. Four persons died | |and scores were injured. Unfinished buildings were | |blown down, roofs were blown off, and signs | |demolished. | | | |The storm played havoc with the railroads, delaying | |trains and adding to the difficulty of moving | |freight. It made so much trouble for the New Haven | |that the company last night issued a notice saying | |that "on account of storms and accumulation of | |loaded cars" only live stock, perishable freight, | |food products, and coal would be carried over | |portions of the line. | | | |Adrift in the gale, fifteen canal barges and cargo | |scows from South Amboy, N. J., went ashore at Sandy | |Hook after those on board, including twenty women | |and children, had suffered from exposure and one man| |washed overboard from the barge Henrietta had been | |drowned. The California and the Stockholm, with | |passengers on board and inbound, were delayed by the| |storm and will reach port to-day. | | | |The wind in Newark unroofed the almshouse, injuring | |two aged women, blew down buildings, smashed | |windows, and crippled the entire wire service of the| |city....[22] | | | |(Then follows a detailed account of the dead, the | |injured, and the delay of traffic.) |

[22] _New York Herald_, December 27, 1915.

| =COLD WAVE ON WAY HERE= | | | |Indianapolis to-day stands on the brink between rain| |and snow. Before to-morrow dawns it may bend | |slightly one way or the other, meteorologically | |speaking, and the result will be little flakes of | |snow or little drops of water. It is forecast that | |to-morrow its feet will slip entirely and it will be| |plunged into the abyss of cold weather. The forecast| |is the work of the weather man, who has some | |reputation locally and elsewhere as a forecaster of | |questionable accuracy. | | | |Cold weather is drifting this way on northwest | |winds, says the weather man, and soon will be hard | |by in the offing, ready to pounce on Indianapolis. | |The fate of Indianapolis is to be the fate of | |Indiana also, and of the entire Middle West, for the| |weather man is no respecter of localities, and when | |he once gets started forecasts with utter | |abandon.... | | | |The Northwest has experienced a drop of 20 degrees | |in temperature and the cold wave is rapidly sweeping| |this way. It is due to reach Indianapolis to-morrow | |morning. The local forecast is for cloudy to-night | |and Wednesday, with probabilities of rain or snow, | |and colder Wednesday. It was the same for the state,| |but rain was predicted for the south part and snow | |for the north. | | | |The temperature in Indianapolis at 7 o'clock this | |morning was 38 degrees, a drop of 6 degrees being | |recorded in the last twenty-four hours. The coming | |cold wave is expected to give this part of the | |country its first real touch of winter. The | |temperature hovered near the zero mark in the | |northwest. The weather bureau reported snow in | |Wyoming, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, and Minnesota.[23|]

[23] _Indianapolis News_, October 28, 1913.

To write this second type of story interestingly means that the reporter must exert himself especially, since the daily routine of weather reports soon becomes wearing in its monotony,--so much so that one finds it exceedingly difficult to present with any degree of originality the same old little-varying facts from day to day. Yet one's readers are always interested in just this item of news, and one can be sure of more expectant readers for this particular story than perhaps for any other single item in the paper.

=224. Deaths and Funerals.=--Stories of deaths and funerals may be included in the monotonous class of accident news. There is this additional difficulty in writing death and funeral stories, however, that in attempting to write sympathetically, appreciatively, of the person who has died, and so meet the expectations of surviving friends and relatives, one is running always on the border line of bathos. It is probably easier to make oneself ridiculous in such stories than in any other kind of news article. As a result, most newspapers require their reporters to confine themselves to bare statements of facts concerning the dead person's life.

=225. Content of Death Stories.=--There are a few facts which all death stories should contain. The person's name, age, street address, and position or business should normally be included in the lead, with possibly a statement of the cause of his death. The duration of his illness may well follow. Then may come the names of surviving relatives and any relationships with persons well known, locally or nationally. If the person is married, the date of the marriage, the maiden name of the wife, and any interesting circumstances connected with the marriage may be recalled. The length of residence in the city should also be included, with possibly a statement of the person's birthplace and the occasion of his settlement in the city. If the person is a man or a woman of wealth, an account of his or her holdings and how they were acquired is always interesting. The story may close with the names of the pallbearers, the time and place of the funeral, the name of the minister officiating, and the place of burial. The following story of the death of Justice Lamar, while not observing the order of events just given, is an excellent illustration of a dignified presentation of the facts in a man's life. (The article has necessarily been abbreviated because of its length.)

| =JUSTICE J. R. LAMAR DIES= | | | |Washington, D. C., Sunday.--Mr. Joseph Rucker Lamar,| |Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United| |States, died to-night at his home in this city after| |an intermittent illness of several months. The | |immediate cause of his death was a severe cold, | |which he contracted ten days ago, and which proved | |too great a strain for his weakened heart. | | | |Justice Lamar's health began to fail early last | |summer and he was obliged to absent himself from his| |duties on the bench. His physicians advised a long | |period of rest, as they feared that over-work would | |seriously affect the action of his heart. | |Accordingly, he spent the greater part of the summer| |at White Sulphur Springs and returned to Washington | |about two months ago feeling much improved. | | | |His condition was not such, however, that it | |permitted him to attend the sessions of the Court, | |although he was able to take outdoor exercise. Two | |days before Christmas he contracted a heavy cold and| |was obliged to go to bed. Specialists were | |consulted, but he gradually grew weaker until this | |afternoon, when he sank into unconsciousness and | |passed away peacefully just before nine o'clock. | | | |At his bedside when the end came were Mrs. Lamar and| |their two sons. Chief Justice White arrived at the | |Lamar home within a few minutes after the death of | |his colleague. | | | |The funeral ceremonies will be in accordance with | |the custom of the court. It is probable that the | |services will be held on Tuesday and that interment | |will be at the family home in Ruckersville, Ga. | | | |Justice Lamar was born at Ruckersville, Elbert | |county, Ga., on October 14, 1857, the son of the | |Rev. James S. and Mary Rucker Lamar. He attended the| |University of Georgia. He was graduated from Bethany| |College, West Virginia, in 1877. After a year in the| |Washington and Lee University Law School, he was | |admitted to the bar at Augusta, Ga. There he lived | |until appointed to the Supreme Court. | | | |He was a cousin of the late Associate Justice L. Q. | |C. Lamar, of Mississippi, who was a member of the | |United States Supreme Court from 1888 to 1893. | | | |When Justice Lamar went on the Supreme Court bench | |he was little known beyond the borders of his own | |state. Mr. Taft became acquainted with him a short | |time before his inauguration when the | |President-elect was playing golf at Augusta. Justice| |Lamar had been a member of the Supreme Court only a | |few months, however, when his ability was | |recognized. His opinions were regarded as | |masterpieces of logical reasoning and applications | |for rehearings were made in few cases he helped to | |decide. | | | |Justice Lamar was selected by President Wilson as | |the principal commissioner for the United States in | |the ABC mediation at Niagara Falls in 1914 between | |this country and Mexico over conditions in the | |neighboring republic. | | | |Justice Lamar made many notable contributions to the| |legal literature of his state. Among them were | |"Georgia's Contribution to Law Reforms," "A History | |of the Organization of the Supreme Court," "Life of | |Judge Nesbit" and "A Century's Progress in Law." | |More than two hundred of his opinions are embraced | |in six volumes of Georgia Reports. | | | |Justice Lamar married, on January 30, 1879, Miss | |Clarinda Pendleton, a daughter of Dr. W. K. | |Pendleton, president of Bethany College. He is | |survived by his wife and two children, Philip Rucker| |Lamar and William Pendleton Lamar.[24] |

[24] _New York Herald_, January 3, 1916.

=226. Obtaining the Information.=--The gaining of information about a man who has just died is not difficult. One should be cautioned, however, against seeking details from members of the family. If the person is of little prominence, one should go first to the undertaker. He will have all the details about the funeral--the names of the pallbearers and of the minister, the time and place of the funeral, the place of burial--and probably all the facts about the person's life that the family wishes made public. If the undertaker does not have this information, he will be able to tell the reporter from whom it may be obtained. Additional facts may sometimes be had from the county and state directories, and even from the city directory. Old residents or close friends, too, often are able to give interesting details about the person's life, his failures and his successes, and in this way a reporter can publish an appreciative account without editorializing on the man's accomplishments. If the one who has died is of decided prominence, the reporter can find accounts of him in the various _Who's Who_ volumes and probably a rather full obituary all ready in the morgue. One must be careful in using the morgue write-up, however, to bridge naturally and easily the gap between the new and the old material, so that the reader shall not suspect he is reading a story partly written years ago. The following is an illustration of poor coherence between the two parts:

|Paris, August 12.--Pol Plancon, the opera singer, | |died to-day. He had been ill since June. | | ------- | |Pol Plancon was a bass singer and made his Paris | |debut in the part of Mephistopheles in 1883. He came| |to the Metropolitan Opera house in New York in 1893,| |where he sang with Melba, Calve, Eames, Nordica and | |Jean and Edouard de Reszke. Plancon sang for many | |years at Covent Garden, London.... |

In this case it is too obvious that the first two sentences constitute the bare cable bulletin and that the second paragraph is the beginning of the morgue story.

=227. Crime Lead.=--In the lead to a crime story, one may feature either the names of the persons involved, the number of lives lost or endangered, the motive of the criminal, the nature of the crime, clues leading to the identification and arrest of the criminal, possible effects of the crime, or even public sentiment resulting from the deed. Of the possible leads, probably the names of the persons involved, either of the criminal or of those whose rights were infringed, are most often played up. Thus:

The other features, however, may be found at random in any paper. Illustrations are:

_Number of Lives Lost_

_Motive_

|To get money to pay for his grandmother's funeral, | |Robert Hollyburd, 24, 1917 Monaco St., yesterday | |robbed the cash register of the Lengerke Brothers, | |sporting goods dealers, at 1654 Bradley St. |

_Nature of the Crime_

|The most brutal murder ever committed in Calloway | |county was discovered at an early hour this morning | |when the body of Dr. Otis Bennett, literally hacked | |to pieces, was found in the basement of his home. |

_Clues_

|The Davenport police have in their possession a | |large bone-handled knife which has been identified | |as the property of Hugo O'Neal, colored, of Cushman.| |The knife was found under Col. Andrew Alton's | |bedroom window after an attempted robbery of his | |home at an early hour this morning. O'Neal has not | |been seen since yesterday. |

_Results_

|Tim Atkins is probably dying at his shanty on Davis | |Street as a result of a difficulty between him and | |Isom Werner over a woman they met on their way home | |from the circus last night. |

=228. Body of the Crime Story.=--The body of the crime story, like that of the accident, follows the lead in a simple chronological narration of events. Interest may be added by quoting direct statements from persons immediately connected with the crime,--how it feels to be held up, how the robber gained entrance to the building, how the bandits escaped. In stories of burglaries and robberies the value of the stolen goods and any ingenious devices for gaining entrance to the house, stopping the train, or halting the robbed party should always be given. It may be added that, unless the purpose is entirely obvious, as in robberies and burglaries, due emphasis should be given to the motive for the crime. One should be on one's guard, however, against accepting readily any motive assigned. The star reporter never takes anybody at his word--the police, the detectives, or even the victims--in any statement where crime is involved. He investigates for himself and draws his own conclusions.

=229. Caution against Libel.=--An additional caution should be added here against libel, because of the strong temptation always to make an accused person guilty before he has been adjudged so. According to American law, a person suspected of or charged with crime is innocent until he has been proved guilty. In writing crime stories, therefore, the reporter must be doubly careful to have a supposed criminal merely "suspected" of misappropriating funds, or "alleged" to have made the assault, or "said by the police" to have entered the house. And in order to present an unbiased story, the side of the supposed malefactor should be given. In the intense excitement resulting from a newly committed crime, or in the squalid surroundings of a prison cell, an accused person does not appear to his best advantage, and it is easy for the reporter to let prejudice sway him, perhaps causing irreparable injury to innocent persons. The race riot in Atlanta, in 1905, in which numbers of innocent negroes were murdered, was a direct result of exaggerated and sensational stories of crime printed by yellow newspapers. And the whole long trial and verdict against Leo M. Frank were directly affected by the same papers. If the opinion of readers is to be appealed to, the reporter should leave such appeals to the editorial writers, whose duty it is to interpret the news and sway the public whenever they will or can. The reporter's duty, as far as possible, is to present mere facts.

XVI. SPORTS

=230. Slang.=--In writing stories of athletic meets and games the reporter will find that in matters of language he has almost complete freedom. For this there are two reasons: the fact that it is necessary half the time to get final results of contests into print within a few seconds or minutes after the outcome has been decided, and the fact that athletic devotees--"fans" in American slang--are not naturally critical. Time is the all-important element with them. The results of a baseball game are wanted within a few seconds after the last man has been put out in the final inning. Whether the writer says the Red Sox defeated the Tigers, or nosed them out in the ninth, or handed them a lemon, means little to the followers of the game provided the information is specifically conveyed that Boston beat Detroit. Slang is freely used,--so much so that the uninitiated frequently cannot understand an account of a game. The "fans" can, however, and they constitute the public for whom reporters on the sporting pages maintain they are writing. If, then, one can brighten up his sporting stories--make them sparkling, electric, galvanic--by using slang, he will find them acceptable to any editor. The only caution to the beginner is that he must be sure every detail is clear to the "fans." Slang can easily be overdone,--much more easily than one would suppose,--with the result that an otherwise good story is choked with near humorous, foggy jargon. Better no slang than a story cloyed with it.[25]

[25] It is the belief of the author that the sporting page has not yet reached its highest level of language and that the younger of us will live to see as pure English used on the sporting page as in the other news columns. The purpose of this volume, however, is not to present the work of the reporter as it ought to be, but as it is--a fact which accounts for the above paragraph and its recommendation of the use of slang in sporting news stories.

=231. Four Kinds.=--An examination of sporting news stories shows four kinds: (1) those dealing with athletic events before their occurrence; (2) those reporting the events; (3) those analyzing and explaining the events and their results; and (4) those dealing with the sport in general. The second of these, the story reporting an athletic event, is not unlike the types of news stories examined in the two preceding chapters and may be discussed first, reserving for later analysis the other three because of their divergence from the normal type of news article.

=232. The Lead.=--The lead to a story reporting an athletic event follows with few exceptions the same general principles as the leads already examined. Unlike those studied in the preceding chapters, however, the lead to such a story often is written last, because of the necessity of writing a running account of the game as it progresses, yet of giving final results in the lead. The feature most frequently played up is the final result, with additional mention of the causes of victory or defeat, the equality or inequality of the opposing players, and any important incidents. Always too, of course, the names of the teams, the time, and the place are given. But the score is regularly the feature,--so much so that if one is in doubt about what to feature in an athletic contest, one can always play a trump card by featuring the results. Thus:

|One hit and one score was all the Senators could | |make off the Yankees at Washington this afternoon, | |but that was enough. Joe Gedeon made the hit, a | |three bagger, and Milan passed him home when he | |dropped Nunamacher's high fly to center. |

|A tie score was the best the Maroons could do for | |the Hoosiers Saturday on Marshall Field. The count | |was 7-7 when Umpire Hanson called the game in the | |eleventh inning on account of darkness. |

=233. Names of the Teams.=--Almost as frequent is the featuring of the names of the opposing teams, with the final score included at the end of the lead.

|Cornell's 1915 football team wrote its name in | |football history in blazing letters on Franklin | |Field this afternoon when at the end of one of the | |most stirring contests ever seen on that gridiron | |the scoreboard read: Cornell, 24; Pennsylvania, 9. |

=234. Cause of Victory or Defeat.=--The cause of a team's victory or defeat often makes an effective feature for the lead.

|With the aid of a bewildering assortment of plays, | |the Syracuse University football team defeated the | |Oregon Agricultural College here to-day, 28 to 0. |

=235. Individual Players.=--Stellar work by individual players--even poor work when responsible for the loss of the game--often makes necessary the featuring of their names.

|Jim Thorpe and George Kelly led an assault on the | |Dallas pitchers this afternoon while Pol Perritt and| |Fred Schupp were baffling the local talent at home | |plate. The net result was a shutout for Dallas and | |five runs for New York. |

|Wildness on the part of Foster and timely hitting by| |Oldring and Strunk enabled Philadelphia to defeat | |Boston again to-day, the score being 6 to 2. |

=236. Other Features.=--Even the kind of weather, the condition of the grounds, the size of the crowd, or the effect of the play on the crowd may be featured:

_The Weather_

|High winds and bad light made the marksmanship poor | |at the local shoot yesterday, the best score being a| |93, made by Lawrence Bowen. |

_Condition of Grounds_

|The annual football game between Lawrence and Beloit| |yesterday, resulting in a 14 to 6 victory for | |Lawrence, might better have been called an aquatic | |meet. The best swimmers won. |

_Size of the Crowd_

|Fifty-nine thousand football fans saw the warriors | |of Old Eli take the Tiger's pelt yesterday at New | |Haven. The count was 13 to 7. |

_Effect on the Crowd_

|A disgusted crowd of 8,000 Sunday baseball fans saw | |the Brewers lose to the Colonels yesterday, 2 to 14.|

It will be noted in these leads that the final score, while not always featured, is nevertheless always included.

=237. The Body.=--The bodies of stories reporting athletic contests are all but unlimited in their methods of handling, depending on the nature of the sport and the length of the story. If the sporting editor has limited the reporter to two sticks, the body may contain the lineup, the names of the officials, mention of those starring or playing particularly poorly, when and how the scoring was made, the condition of the field and the weather, and the size of the crowd. If the editor wants a fuller report, the more important plays, told chronologically, may be added. If he wishes a detailed account, all the plays should be given, the reporter following the chronological order after a full, summarizing lead. In big athletic events, the sporting editor often assigns two men, one to write a general account, the other a detailed story. In such stories it is the reporter writing the general summary who compiles the summarizing figures boxed at the beginning, giving the total attendance and receipts and making comparison with preceding events. A typical baseball story is the following:

| =YANKS BEAT THE SENATORS= | | | |Through some change of policy on the part of the | |concern which is conducting the weather this spring,| |the sun, which has not been at large much in recent | |days, was permitted to shine on the Polo Grounds | |yesterday. The Yankees reveled in the sunlight and | |chalked up their first victory of the season, | |beating Washington by a score of 3 to 1. A crowd of | |more than 20,000 people left their umbrellas and | |raincoats at home and sat in at the Yankee jubilee. | | | |Charley Mullen, one of the Yanks' utility men, was | |rushed into the fray in the sixth inning as a pinch | |hitter for Wallie Pipp. Two runners were riding the | |bases at the time, and when Mullen flayed a single | |to left he also propelled Baker and Gedeon over the | |plate with the two units which marked the margin of | |the New York victory. The Yankees played just the | |kind of baseball everybody hoped they would and that| |was just a bit better than the best Washington had | |to offer. | | | |A lot of people from the Edison Company who know | |First Baseman Judge of the Washington club well | |enough to call him Joe, presented him with a diamond| |ring. Judge used to play with the Edison team before| |he took to the merry life of a professional. Judge | |shattered baseball tradition after modestly taking | |the gift by going in and playing a fine game, | |fielding well and knocking out a clean hit. Most | |players after receiving a present at a ball game can| |be counted on to strike out. | | | |Among the more or less prominent people present was | |the man for whom Diogenes, a former resident of | |Greece, has long been looking. There was no doubt | |about his being the object of the quest of Diogenes | |because when a ball was fouled into the grand stand | |and he caught it, he threw it back into the field | |instead of hiding it in his pocket. | | | |Ray Fisher, who gave up his life unselfishly to | |teaching school up in Vermont until he found how | |much money there was in tossing a curved ball, did | |the twirling for the Yankees and on the few | |occasions when he was in trouble his teammates came | |to his support like a rich uncle. In the fourth | |inning it looked as if Fisher was about to take the | |elevator for the thirty-sixth floor, but Frank Baker| |came to his aid and yanked him out of trouble. | | | |It was this way: Judge, first man up in the fourth, | |singled to center. Shanks was hit on the wrist and | |Jamieson laid a bunt half an inch from the third | |base line, filling the bases. Henry spun a teaser | |right in front of the plate and Nunamacher made a | |quick play by grabbing the ball and forcing Judge | |out as he was about to score. The base line circuit | |was still playing to S. R. O. McBride rapped a | |hopper down back of third base. Baker reached out | |his bare hand, nabbed the ball, touched third and | |forced Jamieson. He relayed the ball over to first | |in time to double up McBride, and Fisher was saved | |from a serious attack of heart failure. That was | |only one of three double plays the Yankees staged | |for Fisher's welfare. | | | |Harry Harper, a southpaw from Hackensack, N. J., | |pitched for Washington until the Yankees went to the| |front in the sixth, and then he was succeeded by | |Francesco Gallia, who hails from Mexico or | |thereabouts. | | | |The Yankees threatened damage in the first inning. | |After Maisel had fanned, Gilhooley was safe on | |Morgan's fumble and Magee sent him to second with a | |single. Baker lifted a high fly to right field, and | |after the catch Gilhooley raced to third and was | |safe by half an inch. Gedeon fouled to first for the| |third out. | | | |The Senators got their run in the second. With one | |down, Jamieson was safe on Baker's high throw over | |first, the runner traveling to second. Henry died at| |first, and McBride punched a two-bagger to right | |center, which sent Jamieson home. The Yankees tied | |the score in the next inning, when, with two out, | |Magee walked. Baker and Gedeon started a double | |steal. It looked as if Gedeon would be a sure out at| |second, but he got back to first safely. Pipp ended | |the fun by fanning. | | | |In the sixth Baker singled to left, and Gedeon | |placed a Texas leaguer back of first, which none of | |the Senator fielders reached. Baker was late in | |starting for second, and Jamieson made a bad throw | |to catch him, so both runners advanced a cushion. | |Mullen, batting for Pipp, cudgeled the ball to left,| |and Baker and Gedeon counted. That was all, and it | |was plenty to win. The score: | | | | NEW YORK WASHINGTON | | AB R H PO A | AB R H PO A| |Maisel, cf. 3 0 0 4 0 | Morg'n, 2b. 3 0 0 3 2| |Gil'hy, rf. 4 0 0 1 0 | Fost'r, 3b. 4 0 2 0 1| |Magee, lf. 3 1 2 2 0 | Milan, cf. 4 0 0 2 0| |Baker, 3b. 3 1 1 2 3 | Judge, 1b. 4 0 1 8 0| |Ged'n, 2b. 4 1 3 5 3 | Sh'nks, lf. 3 0 0 1 0| |Pipp, 1b. 2 0 0 8 0 | Jam's'n rf. 4 1 1 1 0| |Mul'n, 1b. 2 0 1 3 0 | Henry, c. 2 0 0 5 1| |P'k'gh, ss. 4 0 0 1 4 | M'B'de, ss. 3 0 1 1 1| |Nu'ker, c. 2 0 0 1 1 | Harper, p. 2 0 1 0 1| |Fisher, p. 3 0 0 0 2 | Wil'ms, c. 1 0 0 3 1| | ----------- | Johnson[26] 1 0 0 0 0| | | -----------| | Total 30 3 7 27 13 | Total 31 1 6 24 7| | | | [26] Batted for Gallia in ninth inning. | | Errors--Morgan, Milan, Jamieson, Baker. | | | |Washington 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0--1 | |New York 0 0 1 0 0 2 0 0 0--3 | | | |Two-base hits--McBride, Harper, Foster. Stolen | |base--Gedeon. Double plays--Gedeon and Pipp; Baker | |and Pipp; Peckinpaugh and Gedeon. Left on bases--New| |York, 7; Washington, 6. First base on errors--New | |York, 1; Washington, 1. Bases on balls--Off Fisher, | |2; off Harper, 3; off Gallia, 1. Hits and earned | |runs--Off Harper, 6 hits, 3 runs in six innings; off| |Gallia, 1 hit in two innings. Hit by | |Pitcher--Fisher, (Shanks). Struck out--By Fisher, 1;| |by Harper, 4; by Gallia, 2. Umpires--Messrs. Owens | |and Connolly. Time of game--Two hours and eleven | |minutes.[27] |

[27] _New York Times_, April 16, 1916.

Worth noting particularly in this story is the regulation style of indicating the lineup and the score at the end. The writer's originality of expression and his happy choice of individual incidents also add greatly to the interest of the story. The lead, for instance, is unusually good.

=238. Football.=--The following is a typical football story:

| =ARMY DEFEATS NAVY= | | | |It was just as the gray cloaked lads from West Point| |chanted in lugubrious measure before the game: | | | | Go-oo-od Night, Nayvee! | | Go-oo-od Night, Navy! | | Go-oo-od Night--Na-ay-ve-ee! | | The Army wins to-day! | | | |They put into the chorus all the pathos, all the | |long-sustained notes, all the tonsorial-parlor | |chords of which it is capable, and those, as you | |know, are many. | | | |And the Army boys, sitting in a fog which in hue | |just about matched their capes and caps, called the | |turn correctly with their vocal prediction. | | | |It was "Good Night, Navy!" to the tune of 14 points | |to 0. | | | |The youngsters from the west bank of the Upper | |Hudson were triumphant in their twentieth annual | |battle with the midshipmen from Annapolis by two | |touchdowns and their concomitant goals, one in the | |first period of play, the other in the third. The | |count of games now stands ten for the Army, nine for| |the Navy, and one tie. | | | |President Wilson, in a topper that got wet, and with| |a beaming face that was sprinkled with mist and | |raindrops, watched the fight and stayed until the | |final wild whoop from the last departing cadet had | |sounded through the semi-darkness that fell upon the| |Polo Grounds along toward 4:30 p.m. | | | |Mrs. Edith Bolling Galt, who soon is to be Mrs. | |Wilson, was present with her winsome smile and her | |white furs and her lavender orchids--fortunately, | |you could see her even through the haze--by the | |President's side. | | | |And then there were some forty thousand others, | |whose ranks in life ranged down from cabinet | |officers and generals and admirals to ordinary | |civilians, who dug as deep--some of them--as $20 a | |seat for the privilege. | | | |Yet, do you suppose that President Wilson or any | |official was the hero of the day? | | | |We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else, but NO. | | | |Or do you fancy that the former belle of Wytheville,| |Va., who is within the month to be the First Lady of| |the Land, was the person toward whom all eyes were | |directed during most of the afternoon? | | | |There were considerable numbers of field glasses | |focused upon the white furs and the lavender | |orchids and winsome smile. But again the reply | |is emphatically NO. | | | |The leading character, the person who ought to | |figure away up in the top of the headlines, the one | |whose name was spoken more frequently than any | |other, was a rough, rugged, short, stocky, right | |half-back named Elmer Oliphant, who, according to | |Army statistics, is twenty-two years old, stands 5 | |feet 7 inches in altitude, weighs 163 pounds, and | |hails from Indiana. | | | |Ollie was the boy. Before the first period of the | |game was more than half over, there was a fumble by | |a Navy back and an Army man fell upon the ball only | |eight yards away from the goal line of the | |midshipmen. | | | |There was the crash of an Army back against the Navy| |line, and just a little weakening. There was another| |impact of a cadet against a wall that was almost but| |not quite solid. There remained about two or three | |yards to go. | | | |Ollie was hurled in. He took the ball, sought coolly| |for the weakest spot he might find in a line that | |was almost impregnable at the moment, and then, | |instantly finding what he wanted, twisted his way | |backward through left tackle and fell across the | |chalk mark for a touchdown. | | | |The way the rest of the Army boys sank their fists | |into Ollie's broad back when he got up, you'd have | |thought he'd be in no shape for any other position | |than lying flat upon a stretcher. But he came calmly| |away from the tumult of congratulation, and as soon | |as he could kick the mud from between his | |shoe-cleats he booted the ball over the cross-bar | |for a goal. | | | |Throughout the rest of that period, and throughout | |all the next, we may skip Ollie. All he did was run | |around ends for distances varying from five to | |twenty yards, and plunge through the Annapolis line | |with from two to four men attached to his neck, | |arms, legs and back, and tear up, despite these | |handicaps, more earth than one of those tractor | |ploughs the Flivver Man is going to put on the | |market after he settles the European war. | | | |Jump to the third session of the game. This was | |scarcely under way before a long forward pass from | |the Navy was grabbed on the Annapolis 45-yard line | |by McEwen, the agile West Point center. He ran it | |back twenty-five yards and when the ball finally | |came to rest on the muddy field with half a dozen | |Middies piled atop of Mac, it reposed just back of | |the Navy goal-line. | | | |Gray dominated throughout the day, physically as | |well as sentimentally. If ever there was a sodden, | |cheerless, disheartening afternoon for the battle of| |the two arms of the service, yesterday was the one. | | | |Luck is with the boys, usually. The golden sunshine | |usually glints off the gold of braid and buttons. | |The nicest looking girls that ever assembled within | |the confines of any particular area of space turn | |out and smile and put lofty notes into the | |atmosphere with their giddy gowns and hats. There's | |snap and verve and pepperino in the very air. | | | |But for the first time in a long while the weather | |forbade all this sort of thing yesterday. From early| |morning a fog-blanket, wafted in from the Atlantic, | |hung over the town. Now and then it rained. And when| |you thought maybe it would clear off it rained | |again. The good old golosh was brought out of the | |spare bedroom closet and placed upon even the | |fairest of feet. The old brown raincoat was dragged | |forth into the light of day and placed above the | |gayest of garments. | | | |No girl was so foolish as to take a chance on the | |ruin of her apparel by doing without a moisture | |shedder of some sort. And not a general or admiral | |or member of a governor's staff or other person | |holding the right to wear a uniform was so | |intensely proud as to expose his ornamentation | |uncovered and take a risk at pneumonia. | | | |It was, as a matter of fact, a pretty drab-looking | |crowd that began to file into the Polo grounds a | |little after noon. You can't get much local color | |out of a gum shoe and a mackintosh.... | | | | =The Game Play by Play= | | | |It was 2.15 when the navy squad ploughed through the| |mud to the center of the gridiron. The Navy stands | |upheaved and the midshipmen sent their battle cry | |ringing across the field. Almost on the heels of the| |Navy squad came the Army players and a great shout | |went up from the Army stands. Each team ran through | |signals for a few minutes and then the Navy won the | |toss and chose the east goal. | | | |Coffin put the ball into play at 2:20 when he kicked| |off to the Navy. Craig caught the ball on his | |25-yard line and ran it back ten yards before he was| |hurled into the mud. Davis tore off seven yards | |through the right side of the Army line and Westphal| |skirted the Army's left end for ten yards and a | |first down. | | | |Here the Army forwards held and crushed the Navy | |back a yard. On the next down the midshipmen punted,| |but gained only five yards. Oliphant tried an end | |run from a kick formation, but failed to gain, and | |the Army punted, Coffin driving the ball to the | |Navy's 43-yard line. | | | |Westphal fought a path for five yards, but then the | |Army defense held, and Von Heimberg kicked to | |Gerhardt on the Army's 10-yard line. The cadet | |quarterback flashed back thirty yards before he was | |driven out of bounds and brought to earth. A stab at| |the line failed to gain for the cadets and Coffin | |punted to Craig. | | | |The ball sailed far down the field and the Navy | |quarterback had to run back a few yards to get under| |it. But he did not get back quite far enough. As the| |ball dropped he saw he had misjudged it and threw | |his arms up to grasp the pigskin. His fingers | |clutched at it, slipped off, and the ball dropped to| |the gridiron as the Army forwards swooped down the | |field. | | | |Capt. Weyand was in the lead and his greedy fingers | |snatched the ball before Craig could get his | |bearings. It was the Army's ball and only eight | |yards from a touchdown. The midshipmen chorused to | |the Navy line to hold. And the line did its best, | |but its best was not good enough to throw back the | |Army's battering attack. Oliphant jammed his way two| |yards and on the next play drove through the | |desperately fighting Navy line within a few feet of | |the goal line. | | | |Here the Navy showed a flash of power that sent the | |midshipmen to frenzied shouting. Oliphant on his | |third smash into the line was hurled back for a yard| |loss. The next try made the fourth down and with the| |cadet band blaring and the cadets shouting | |themselves hoarse Oliphant made his fourth drive | |against the Navy forwards. | | | |It was a lunge that carried the concentrated power | |of the Army eleven yards behind it and it spelled a | |touchdown for the cadets. Oliphant with several Navy| |players clutching him stormed well over the line for| |the first score of the game. He promptly kicked the | |goal from touchdown and the scoreboard read: Army 7,| |Navy 0. | | | |This was the signal for the Army to break into the | |song, "Good Night, Navy." They were still singing | |when Coffin kicked off for the Army....[28] |

[28] Joseph J. O'Neil in the _New York World_, November 28, 1915.

This story may be examined critically--and imitated--for its excellence in centering the reader's interest upon the football hero, Oliphant,--a stroke which gives the article almost a short story unity of impression. The writer's shift from the game and the crowd to Oliphant is somewhat rough--note, for instance, "We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else, but NO,"--but otherwise the story is good.

=239. Getting Players' Names.=--When reporting a football game, one can best follow and take notes on the plays by knowing the players by number. In big games this is made easy by the numerals on the football men's backs. On the smaller elevens this is not done, a difficulty which the reporter can overcome, however, by numbering the positions according to the regulation lineup. Thus:

5.LE RE.11 2.LHB 6.LT RT.10 RHB.3 7.LG RG. 9 1.FB 4.QB 8. C C. 8 QB.4 FB.1 9.RG LG. 7 3.RHB 10.RT LT. 6 LHB.2 11.RE LE. 5

Then in taking running notes during the game, one has to write only, "4 around 5 10 yds.," "2 through 7-8 to 20-yd. line," etc., filling in the names of the players after each half.

=240. Basket-ball.=--The accepted method of reporting a basket-ball game is much like that of football. Because in basket-ball the scores run high and the relative standings of the opposing teams are constantly shifting, it is customary in detailed accounts to give the exact score of each team at the end of every quarter. The following is a terse story of a game:

| =BOYS' HIGH WINS CITY TITLE= | | | |The Boys' High School captured the city basketball | |championship of the Public Schools Athletic League | |by defeating the Bushwick High School on the | |former's court yesterday by a score of 18 to 17. It | |was the second defeat sustained by Bushwick, the | |other reverse being administered by Eastern | |District, which, however, was downed by Boys' High. | |The ending was a sad one for the Bushwick team. | | | |The Bushwick team showed good sportsmanship by | |failing to enter a protest when it was alleged that | |the final whistle was blown ten seconds too soon. | |The matter was put before Mr. Aldinger, the referee,| |who decided the game officially ended. | | | |Boys' High came through with a strong finish. At the| |opening of the game it scored four points before | |Bushwick finally entered the scoring column. The | |game was bitterly fought until the end of the first | |half, which found Boys' High holding an average of 6| |to 4. | | | |In the second half Bushwick launched an attack that | |soon placed it in front by a score of 15 to 9. Boys'| |High then carried the fight into the enemy | |territory, and, with successive field goals by | |Bolotovsky, Gindee and Bonoff, the score was tied at| |15-all. | | | |The score then seesawed until Bolotovsky shot the | |winning point with a free goal from the foul line. | | | |The line-up follows: | | | | BOYS' HIGH BUSHWICK | | Fd.g Fl.g. P. | Fd.g Fl.g. P.| |Bolotovsky, rf 4 4 12 | Robinson, rf 2 0 4| |Gindee, lf 1 0 2 | Edelstein, lf 2 3 7| |Bonoff, c 2 0 4 | Cherry, c 3 0 6| |Brown, rg 0 0 0 | Dorff, rg 0 0 0| |Ratner, lg 0 0 0 | Billig, lg 0 0 0| | ---------- | ----------| | Totals 7 4 18 | Totals 7 3 17| | | |Referee--Aldinger, H. S. of Commerce. Time of | |halves, 15 minutes each.[29] |

[29] _New York Tribune_, March 4, 1917.

In reporting a basket-ball game it is difficult to record the plays accurately unless one knows the contestants or they are numbered. The men shift their positions too quickly and constantly. To be accurate, the reporter should have a seat next to the scorer or else between two students or friends of the opposing players, so that whichever side makes a basket or an error, the reporter can get the player's name instantly.

=241. Track.=--Reporting a track meet is easier than baseball, football, or basket-ball since the events are run off slowly and all the results are announced to the grandstand. The following story of the 1917 meet of the Intercollegiate Association of America at Philadelphia is a good illustration:

| =RECORDS MADE AT INDOOR MEET= | | | |Cornell and Yale, as usual, shared the top honors at| |the third annual indoor track and field meet of the | |Intercollegiate Association of America, held last | |night before a crowd of 6,000 persons at the | |Commercial Museum in this city. The feature event of| |the early part of the program was a three-lap relay | |race between the Ithacans, Pennsylvania and State | |College. Crim, who ran anchor for Cornell over the | |last 538 yards, beat Scudder, of Penn, by an inch, | |the Quaker falling under the tape exhausted. In this| |event Cornell hung up a new record for the | |collegiate indoor meets by covering the three laps | |in four minutes, twenty seconds, two seconds better | |than last year, when Penn won. | | | |In the six-lap relay race, where each of the men ran| |1056 yards, Yale romped home an easy winner, John | |Overton beating Marion Shields, of Penn State, with | |yards to spare. Pennsylvania, the third team | |entered, finished in that position. | | | |Yale sent an army of star timber-toppers down for | |the fifty-yard high hurdle event. John V. Farwell, | |captain of the Eli's track team, equaled the | |American amateur indoor record by covering the | |distance in seven seconds. | | | |Richards, of Cornell, won individual honors in the | |sixteen-pound shot-put with a throw of 42 feet, | |8-3/10 inches, while Cornell's team average was 40 | |feet, 2-3/10 inches. | | | |The Cornell entries in the late events swept | |everything before them. Coach Jack Moakley's | |long-distance runners won the twelve-lap relay in | |the fast time of 22 minutes, 7-2/5 seconds, beating | |last year's record of 23 minutes, 13-4/5 seconds. | |The Ithacans also cleaned up in the running broad | |jump with a team average of 20 feet, 9 and 1/16 | |inches. Culbertson carried off the individual honors| |with a leap of 21 feet, 3 and 3/4 inches. | | | |The graduate relay race proved the most interesting | |event on the card. When the anchor men of Penn, | |Dartmouth, and Cornell started on the last four laps| |Riley, of Dartmouth, was leading "Ted" Meredith by | |fifteen yards, with Caldwell, the former Ithacan, | |trailing five yards in the rear of Meredith. Penn's | |former captain brought the crowd to its feet by | |overtaking Riley in the last ten yards. No time was | |taken. Summaries: | | | |Three-lap relay race--Won by Cornell (Shelton, | |Windnagle, Acheson, Crim); second, Penn (Lennon, | |Walker, Dorsey, Scudder); third, Penn State | |(Whiting, Krall, Enoch, Cottom). Time, 4 min., 20 | |sec. (New indoor collegiate record). | | | |50-yard hurdles--Won by Yale (Rodman, Davis, Offutt | |and Farwell), 14 points; second, Cornell (J. M. | |Watt, Cleminshaw, Pratt and Elsas), 10 points; | |third, Princeton (Crawford, H. R. Watt, Erdman, and | |Buzby), 6 points. | | | |Six-lap relay--Won by Yale (Rolfe, Ireland, Cooper | |and Overton); second, Penn State (Shea, Foster, | |Whiting and Shields); third, Pennsylvania (Norriss, | |Price, Scudder and Humphreys). Time, 9 min., 59-4/5 | |sec. | | | |16-pound shot-put--Won by Cornell (Richards, 42 ft. | |8-3/10 in.; Gillies, 39 ft. 11-1/2 in.; Howell, 41 | |ft. 5 in.; Schoof, 36 ft. 10-7/8 in.), team average,| |40 ft. 2-3/10 in.; second, Princeton (Sinclaire, 44 | |ft. 9-1/2 in.; Cleveland 41 ft. 1-3/8 in.; Nourse, | |34 ft. 8 in.; Ginnert 35 ft. 1-1/4 in.), team | |average, 38 ft. 6-8/10 in.; third, Penn (Wray, 30 | |ft. 10-1/4 in.; Paul, 32 ft. 3-3/4 in.; Royer, | |31 ft. 5-5/8 in.; Swann, 32 ft. 2-3/4 in.), team | |average, 31 ft. 6-5/10 in. | | | |Running broad jump--Won by Cornell (Culbertson, 21 | |ft. 3-3/4 in.; Richards, 21 ft. 1/2 in.; Shackelton,| |20 ft. 10-1/2 in.; Harrison, 19 ft. 9-1/2 in.), team| |average, 20 ft. 9-1/16 in.; second, Pennsylvania | |(Jones, 20 ft. 10-3/4 in.; Bertolet, 20 ft. 7 in.; | |Buckholtz, 20 ft. 1/2 in.; Walter 19 ft. 9 in.), | |team average, 20 ft. 3-13/16 in. No third team.[30] |

[30] _Philadelphia Public Ledger_, March 4, 1917.

=242. Golf.=--In reporting golf matches probably the best method is to lead with rather a full summary--a half-dozen paragraphs if necessary--telling the results, the character of the playing, the kind of weather, the condition of the links, and something about the competitors, then to follow with a detailed story of the game hole by hole. In the following story note that the length, the par, and the relative standing of the players is given on each hole. Note too that a numerical summary is made every nine holes.

| =EVANS WINS GREAT MATCH= | | | |Charles Evans, Jr., of the Edgewater Golf Club, | |twice winner of the Western amateur golf | |championship, to-day defeated Ned Sawyer of the | |Wheaton Golf Club 2 and 1 in the semi-final match | |for the great All-Western title. To-morrow Evans | |will meet in the 36-hole finals James Standish, Jr.,| |of the Detroit Golf Club, whom he defeated for the | |same title last year at the Kent Country Club. | | | |Standish won his way into the finals by defeating | |H. P. Bingham, of the Mayfield Club, to-day in a | |lop-sided contest, the match ending on the thirtieth| |green, 7 and 6. | | | |The Evans-Sawyer duel to-day was a grueling struggle| |and from all points one of the greatest in the | |history of the Western classic. It sparkled like | |carbonated water as compared with the rather flat | |matches of yesterday. | | | |Fought in balmy weather under almost perfect | |conditions, the contest afforded, from start to | |finish, plenty of thrills to the gallery of 2,000 | |followers. Old timers conceded it the best match | |ever fought on Ohio soil. Each player had 74 in the | |morning, while Evans had approximately 72 in the | |afternoon. | | | |Fourteen of the thirty-five holes were won under par| |figures, ten were won at par, and two were ties | |under par, leaving only two holes at which both | |players were really ragged. | | | |Sawyer shot remarkably fine golf in the out round of| |the morning and at the tenth hole was 4 up, but from| |this point Evans began to whittle down the lead. | |Although Chick got on even terms four times, it was | |not until the sixteenth hole in the afternoon that | |he led, and the next hole saw him winner. | | | |The score by holes follows: | | | | =Scores by Holes= | | | |=Hole 1 (385 yds., par 4).= Sawyer pulled his drive | |into a trap from which he dug only to drop into | |another at the left of the green. His chip shot hit | |the bank and he was just on the green in 4. Evans | |was 60 feet from the pin on his second, but his weak| |approach putt gave him a 5. Sawyer took three putts | |and counted a 7 for the first hole. Evans 1 up. | | | |=Hole 2 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans pulled his tee | |shot, but got a fair lie. His approach pitch was | |short. Sawyer got 250 yards on his drive, pitched | |eight feet short, and holed an uphill putt for a | |win, 3-4. All square. | | | |=Hole 3 (445 yds., par 5).= Two wonderful wooden | |shots landed Sawyer eight feet from the pin, where | |he missed his putt for a 3 and kicked the ball in | |for a 4, one under par. Evans pulled his drive to | |the rough from which he made a woeful pull with his | |cleek to the weeds guarding the right of the | |fairway. He was 20 yards short of the green on his | |third and lost, 5-4. Sawyer 1 up. | | | |=Hole 4 (170 yds., par 3).= This hole was halved in | |3, the features being Sawyer's 30-foot, downhill | |putt and Chick's miss of a two-foot putt. Sawyer 1 | |up. | | | |=Hole 5 (325 yds., par 4).= Evans was wild again | |from the tee, his drive being sliced to the brook | |where he got a lie on the slaty bottom. He banged | |out a high shot with his niblick, but went over the | |green to the rough and was short on his return. | |Sawyer was fifteen feet from the hole on his second | |and won, 4-5. Sawyer 2 up. | | | |=Hole 6 (515 yds., par 5).= From the high sixth tee | |Evans pulled a low drive to the trees. He made a | |great out with his mashie, being lucky in escaping | |the trees. Sawyer lined out two of his regulation | |wooden shots and was twelve feet from the flag on | |his second. Evans heeled his long mashie shot to the| |right of the green, from which he missed his four | |and conceded the hole, Sawyer being dead in 3. | |Sawyer 3 up. | | | |=Hole 7 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans left his unruly | |driver in the bag and played a cleek shot for the | |seventh hole, Sawyer outdriving him forty yards. | |Chick's pitch took a bad bound, but stopped eight | |feet from the hole. Sawyer's pitch ran entirely | |across the green. Evans's putt just trickled into | |the cup, winning for him, 3-4. Sawyer 2 up. | | | |=Hole 8 (145 yds., par 3).= Both pitched to the | |green. Sawyer putted dead and laid Evans a dead | |stymie. In attempting the five-foot slanting putt, | |Chick knocked Sawyer's ball into the hole, losing | |2-4. Sawyer 3 up. | | | |=Hole 9 (435 yds., par 5).= Both got straight drives| |into a driving wind at the long ninth. Two perfectly| |played iron shots met with unmerited punishment, | |both balls touching the top of the hill and running | |over the fast green into a trap. Both missed rainbow| |putts for fours and halved in 5. Sawyer 3 up at the | |turn. | | | |Cards: | |Evans 5 4 5 3 5 5 3 4 5--39 | |Sawyer 7 3 4 3 4 4 4 2 5--36 |

=243. Tennis.=--In reporting tennis matches one may use the following as an acceptable guide. The summary by sets at the end of the story in all probability was obtained from the scorer.

| =JOHNSTON WINS CHAMPIONSHIP= | | | |William M. Johnston inscribed his name upon the | |classic national tennis singles championship most | |impressively yesterday, using a forehand stroke that| |left no dispute as to his right to the title. The | |young player, who two seasons ago was hailed as the | |successor to Maurice E. McLoughlin, made good the | |prediction by the score of 1-6, 6-0, 7-5, 10-8, | |while thousands cheered the vanquished McLoughlin | |and the new holder of the highest honors of the | |American courts. It was a memorable battle and an | |inspiring scene at the climax on the field of the | |West Side Tennis Club, at Forest Hills, L.I., when | |the two men fighting for a sporting honor, and | |fighting with all that was in them, almost collapsed| |at the end, and hoisted on the shoulders of their | |comrades, with the cheers of the 7,000 spectators | |ringing in their ears, were carried from the field. | | | |While the homage paid to Johnston for winning one of| |the greatest matches the All Comers' tournament has | |ever known in its thirty-five years was sincere and | |true, still on all sides there was regret that | |McLoughlin, the hero who overwhelmed Norman E. | |Brooks and the late Anthony F. Wilding in the great | |Davis Cup matches last year, would not have the | |permanent possession of the All Comers' Cup on which| |his name is twice inscribed. | | | |It was not the same McLoughlin who stood in the | |court yesterday that overwhelmed the famous | |Australasians a year ago. Time had taken something | |from his game, and as ever youth must be served. In | |this instance it fairly leaped to its reward. Except| |for the first set and the briefest of intervals | |thereafter, Johnston was always the master of his | |mighty adversary. He knew the game of his opponent, | |and as in the ancient days when Greek met Greek, it | |was the dynamic power, resourcefulness, and stroke | |of Californian against Californian, with no quarter | |asked or given. Two months before the two had played| |for the Exposition championship at San Francisco, | |and at that time McLoughlin had carried the match | |and title after five of the hardest sets which the | |tournament produced. Then "The Comet" was on his old| |field of asphalt with the ball bounding so high that| |he could bring off his overhanders and where such a | |thing as ground strokes were unknown. | | | |Probably never in all the years of the historic All | |Comers has a player displayed such phenomenal | |command of the ball with a forehand stroke. There | |were many competent judges present yesterday who | |declared that its equal was not to be found on the | |courts anywhere.... | | | |It was a stroke that stood the test, for no less | |than eight times in the fourth set was Johnston | |within a point of claiming the All Comers as his own| |when McLoughlin made thrilling stands as of old, and| |pushed the victory on a little further. When he | |moved up to the net in the ever-flashing rallies all| |the power and certainty of Johnston's forehand came | |into action. Alert, with the eye of an eagle that | |saw every move and the flight of the ball as | |McLoughlin drove it at him with all his might, the | |younger player whipped the returns into the corners.| |He was like a cat on his feet, quick and sure, never| |making a false move. There were times when he | |nipped the best drives that the Comet sent over, and| |turned them back for passes. Repeatedly McLoughlin | |overhanded the ball for what to him seemed a certain| |ace, so that he relaxed and dropped his racquet to | |rest, as if the point were finished. Johnston made | |his recovery, however, and sending the ball back | |found McLoughlin off his guard and so scored the | |point. | | | |The cross volleys into the corners, the spots that | |had proved so profitable against Williams on the | |previous day, were the chief bit of manoeuvring | |that electrified the crowd. As Johnston played it, | |it was as irresistible as trying to check the march | |of time. He sent the ball into the left-hand corner | |of McLoughlin's court like a bolt of chain | |lightning. In order to play the ball with any | |success McLoughlin usually danced around it for a | |forehand shot, which put him wide of the court. | |Calmly stepping in to meet it, Johnston crossed with| |ever-increasing pace into the opposite corner. It | |was run, run, run for McLoughlin if he wanted the | |ball. He was on the defensive, and it was a | |position, as in all of his matches, in which he does| |not scintillate. So relentlessly was the younger | |player forcing the former champion and veteran that,| |even when he had glowing opportunities to make the | |point, McLoughlin put his racquet to the ball too | |soon, and so piled up a total of 42 nets and 38 | |outs, as compared to 37 nets and 26 outs for his | |rival. That was chiefly where the difference stood, | |for on actual earned points by placement Johnston | |only had a tally of 53 to 51 for the Comet.... | | | | =First Set= | | Points Games | |Johnston 2 0 3 0 5 4 2--16 1 | |McLoughlin 4 4 5 4 3 6 4--30 6 | | | | Double | | Aces Places Nets Outs Faults | |Johnston 6 8 11 12 6 | |McLoughlin 9 10 9 7 1 | | | | =Second Set= | | Points Games | |Johnston 4 4 5 4 6 4--27 6 | |McLoughlin 2 2 3 0 4 0--11 0 | | | | Double | | Aces Places Nets Outs Faults | |Johnston 3 8 3 4 0 | |McLoughlin[31] 3 2 5 6 1 |

[31] _New York Times_, September 8, 1915.

=244. Boxing Matches.=--News stories of boxing matches are but a combination of the methods of writing football games and golf matches. The first part of the story of a boxing contest should be a full general account of the fight, the fighters, the character of the boxing, the weight, height, and reach of the pugilists, their methods of attack and defense, the crowd, total and individual receipts, the exact time of the beginning and end of the fight, etc. The second part, like the golf report, should be a detailed running story of the fight by rounds. The following story of the Willard-Moran match at New York in 1915 may be examined as an example:

| =WILLARD WINS ON POINTS= | | | |Jess Willard, the heavyweight champion pugilist of | |the world, hammered and pounded Frank Moran of | |Pittsburgh for ten rounds in crowded Madison Square | |Garden last night, but with his advantage of fifty | |pounds in weight, six inches in height, and six | |inches in reach, the Herculean Kansan could not | |knock out the courageous Pittsburgh boxer. | | | |Willard had every advantage throughout the bout | |except one flash in the seventh round, when Moran, | |with teeth set and the fire of anger in his eye, | |made a wonderful rally and showered Willard's jaw | |with hard blows just before the bell sounded. | | | |The champion hit Moran hard enough and often enough | |to knock out half a dozen men, and after the bout he| |said that the only reason he was forced to let up | |and not use his famous righthand punch was because | |he broke his right hand in the second round and was | |afraid to hit hard after that. It was in whipping a | |vicious uppercut for the chin that Willard smashed | |the hand against Moran's elbow. At the time, Moran | |was groggy, and although the seconds in the | |champion's corner yelled for him to tear in, Willard| |had to stand back. | | | |When the champion's glove was removed after the | |bout, the hand was badly swollen, and he was rushed | |away from the Garden to be attended by a surgeon. | | | |The crowd that witnessed the bout was the largest | |ever seen at a glove contest here. The Garden from | |the floor to the upper gallery was jammed until | |there was hardly room to stand. Although women | |spectators were encouraged to see the bout, few | |responded, not more than 200 being seen in the arena| |boxes. Well-known men in all walks of New York life,| |however, were grouped about in evening clothes, and | |gave the boxing match as much tone as a night at the| |opera. A few of the women spectators wore evening | |clothes, but the greater part of them were clad in | |the smart new spring suits which fill all the city's| |finery shops. | | | |Financially the bout was a huge success and a | |tribute to the enterprise of the Western promoter, | |Tex Rickard. The receipts amounted to $150,000. Of | |this Willard got $52,600, including $5,100 for his | |share of the motion pictures. Moran got $23,500 for | |his share. It was an enormous remuneration for both | |men for their forty minutes in the ring. | | | |This first appearance of the new champion in the | |ring since his defeat of Johnson in Havana a year | |ago had set the town talking, and prominent men in | |New York and other cities did not hesitate to pay | |$25 a seat to see the bout. As Willard was such an | |over-ruling favorite the betting was perhaps the | |lightest ever known in a bout in which a champion | |has taken part.... | | | |It was 9:40 o'clock when Willard hopped into the | |ring and got a big cheer. He was soon followed by | |Moran, who had even a greater reception. While the | |two contestants were waiting nervously in their | |corners the announcer, Joe Humphries, had the | |proudest moment of his career when he gathered the | |great figures of the fistic world into the same | |ring. Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, Kid McCoy, and | |John L. Sullivan all stood together and shook hands.| |The reception to John L. must have made the | |white-haired old man's heart warm, for the old | |timers in the crowd who remembered when he could | |beat anything in the ring cheered him until they | |were hoarse. | | | |In the champion's corner were Tom Jones, Walter | |Monahan, and Jack Hemple. In Moran's corner were | |Willie Lewis, Bill McKinnon, and Frank Kendall. | |Willard's weight was a big surprise. When he | |stripped off his green bathrobe the champion weighed| |259 pounds, which was ten pounds more than his | |handlers said he weighed and twenty pounds more than| |when he defeated Johnson in Cuba. It was just 9:55 | |when "Old Eagle Eye" Charley White called the men to| |the center of the ring and said, "Be good, boys, and| |break when I tell you." ... | | | | =THE FIGHT BY ROUNDS= | | | | =First Round= | | | |The men met in the center of the ring. Willard | |blocked Moran's left to the head and they clinched. | |Willard missed a right and left that slid off | |Moran's shoulder. Willard landed lightly with the | |left to Moran's face and followed with two more. A | |left jab was all that Willard used in the first few | |moments. Then Moran landed a left to Willard's | |chest, and rushing in close tried to get to his jaw | |with two blows, but failed. Moran was wary and | |covered up as he came in on Willard. He also missed | |a left swing that was wild by several inches. | |Willard sent a left to Moran's head that jarred the | |challenger, and he tried to come back with blows to | |Willard's head, but failed. Moran could not reach | |the jaw of the champion. Willard missed a right | |lead, Moran stepping in close and evading the blow. | |One blow that Willard landed clean, a left to the | |head, made Moran wary. Moran could not get any blows| |to Willard's face. | | | | =Second Round= | | | |Willard met Moran three-quarters of the way over the| |ring and they clinched. Moran landed a left to | |Willard's head after they broke and then they milled| |in the center of the ring, neither doing any | |particular damage. They were chary of doing work for| |the next several seconds, Willard waiting to have | |Moran lead. Willard pushed aside Moran's guard and | |led with a left to the head which was blocked. | |Willard forced Moran around the ring and battered | |him on the head with rights and lefts. The | |challenger was almost pushed through the ropes. | |Moran missed a left lead that was blocked by | |Willard. Moran feinted and made a wild hay-making | |swing that missed. He then struck one blow to | |Willard's chest that had little force behind it. | |Moran led with his left and reached Willard's | |stomach, but the champion did not mind the blow | |seriously. Two right swings by Moran pounded on | |Willard's shoulders and the champion retaliated with| |a light left jab to the face. Both were perspiring | |from the intense heat of the big arc lights. Willard| |seemed to toy with Moran in this round, not exerting| |himself to take the aggressive....[32] |

[32] _New York Times_, March 26, 1916.

=245. The Unwholesome in Boxing Matches.=--One caution should be given in writing about boxing contests,--the need of presenting the wholesome rather than the unwholesome side. A report of a bout may be written in such a way as to appeal to the barbaric nature of one's readers, to make them revel in the mere drawing of blood rather than in the skill, the dexterity, the generalship of the contestants. The difference is in the reporter's point of view and depends not so much upon accuracy of presentation as upon his purpose to choose those wholesome details that have been successful in retaining pugilism as an American sport despite its many undoubted accompanying evils. In the following extract, for instance, the appeal is unhealthful; it savors rather of the Spanish bull-ring than of a legal sport in the United States:

|What a fight it was! One worthy of Mars himself! The| |stage setting was complete to the minutest detail. | |There had been quite enough smashed noses in the | |preliminaries to whet the appetite for action to its| |keenest edge. And the main event was put on so | |quickly after the semi-final that this lust for | |battle had no chance to cool. Moran led with a | |snappy left hook that drew blood from Coffey's nose.| |With this first faint scarlet trickle the gallery | |gods went wild. A second quick jab gashed an old | |scar above Jim's left cheekbone and covered his face| |with blood, to the delight of Frank's friends in the| |center box. |

=246. Automobile Races.=--Stories of automobile races follow closely the types of sporting news stories already examined. The following may be taken as an illustration:

[33] _Milwaukee Journal_, August 8, 1915.

=247. Billiards.=--In billiard matches the chief thing to note, in addition to points already mentioned in other sporting news stories, is the scoring of the individual runs. If it is necessary to write up the individual innings, the same style is used as indicated in golf and racing stories.

| =HOPPE OUTPLAYS YAMADA= | | | |Boston, Oct. 21.--Willie Hoppe, the champion, led | |Koji Yamada, his Japanese challenger, 1,000 to 743 | |points at the close of their second night's play for| |the 14.1 balkline billiard championship at | |Convention Hall this evening. Yamada's total | |to-night was 396. As was the case last night, both | |men played carefully, which accounted for the long | |time necessary to finish the game. | | | |Hoppe's high run was 104, and came late in the | |contest, his average being 19 6-26. Yamada's best | |run was 82, and as it came soon after a run of 75, | |it enabled him to take the lead from the American | |for the first time in the match. His average was 13 | |22-25. | | | |Yamada in the first half of the game gave a pleasing| |display in which for the first time he showed | |brilliancy at the masse. Hoppe was not up to form | |during the early innings and got his points only by | |hard struggle. Both players had a good deal of open | |table shooting to do. The score: | | | |Hoppe--49, 30, 2, 31, 3, 0, 22, 5, 23, 24, 4, 0, 8, | |0, 17, 7, 55, 0, 44, 11, 104, 31, 0, 24, 5, 7--500. | |Average, 19 6-26. | | | |Yamada--9, 2, 1, 45, 30, 0, 75, 0, 45, 4, 2, 82, 0, | |1, 31, 1, 0, 0, 9, 2, 3, 0, 1, 7, 3--347. Average, | |13 22-25.[34] |

[34] _Atlanta Constitution_, October 22, 1915.

=248. Obtaining Information.=--In reporting games and contests one will have little difficulty in obtaining all needed information. Tickets are provided gratis and admit always to the best seats, known as the press seats, or the press-box, where all the newspaper men are grouped together. If the contest is an outdoor meet, the press-box is usually on the top of the bleachers. Here are installed telegraph and telephone wires, the papers often having private wires from their offices to the field. If the wires have not been installed and it is necessary to report between quarters or halves, or inning by inning, one should have the local telegraph company provide at least two messengers to take the bulletins as fast as one writes them. And one's notes should be so taken that the bulletins may be given the messengers within a few seconds after it is possible to report.

=249. Personal Opinion in Sporting Stories.=--On page 165 mention was made of four kinds of sporting news stories, and the reader's attention was called to the fact that three of the four--those dealing with athletic events before their occurrence, those dealing with the same events afterward, and those relating to sports in general--vary somewhat from the normal type of newspaper story. This variance lies in the fact that the three are hybrids, partaking of the nature of both the pure news story and the editorial. In an earlier chapter we have seen that the purpose of the news story is to present news; of the editorial, to interpret. We have seen that the avowed purpose of the editorial is to influence opinion. And so with these three types. They may be either presenters or interpreters of sporting news, or both. In the following story the writer is bent on telling the lineup of the Michigan team for the game against Cornell, the condition of the men, etc., but he is also bent on proving to his readers that Michigan has a chance to win,--which makes his story half editorial and half news.

| =MICHIGAN HAS A CHANCE= | | | |Ann Arbor, Mich., Nov. 5.--(Special).--We might lead| |this story with something original and say that both| |teams were awaiting the whistle. Instead, we will be| |unique and assert that Michigan has a chance to win.| | | |A victory over Cornell would make a success of a | |season that has a good start toward being a failure.| |Michigan's chance for victory depends on its line. | |There is grave doubt in the minds of some that | |Michigan has a line. Yost believes it has, because | |he has seen his center, his two guards, and his two | |tackles charge and block in practice. He hasn't seen| |them do anything in games but look sick. But he | |knows they can do something else and he is wondering| |if to-morrow will be the day when they prove it to | |the public and to Cornell. | | | |If the Michigan line should play tomorrow as it | |played against the Aggies and against Syracuse, the | |best back field in the land would be null and void. | |But if the Michigan line comes to life, performs as | |it has done when Assistant Coaches Schultz, | |Almendinger and Raynsford were scrimmaging against | |it and using all the words they knew as lashes to | |drive it to action, then Cornell will find itself | |up against the toughest foe it has faced this year. | | | |Yost admits he has a good back field. His | |combination of one senior, one junior and one | |sophomore--Catlett, Maulbetsch and Smith--would, he | |believes, gain acres of ground against any team in | |the country if the line would give them half a | |chance. | | | |Smith, to be sure, is in bad shape. He is going to | |start the game, but few expect him to last through. | |Bay City gave him to Michigan, and before he was | |hurt he showed enough to convince his coach that he | |has the makings of another Galt. | | | |He is of the versatile type, and besides being a | |good ground gainer himself, he is of great | |assistance as an interferer and a handy man on | |defense. He backs up the line when the other side | |has the ball. At present almost everything ails him,| |save possibly barber's itch and the h. and m. | |disease that helped make Niles famous. | | | |Maulbetsch, Yost says, is a better defensive man | |than last year. As for his plunging prowess, he is | |probably just as classy as ever, but a man can't | |plunge very far when two or three opposing linemen | |are sitting on him, as they were in the M. A. C. and| |Syracuse games. | | | |Catlett is a streak of speed, and since this is his | |third year of varsity football, he is playing more | |intelligently than ever. Roehm, the quarterback, was| |one of Hughitt's understudies last season. He is | |light, but fast and willing. | | | |Thus in the back field we have a good all round man,| |a wonderful line plunger, a speed demon, and an | |agile, hard worker. All of which assets won't be | |worth a yesterday's transfer unless the line | |holds....[35] |

[35] Ring W. Lardner in the _Chicago Tribune_, November 6, 1915.

=250. Advance Stories.=--The details which one may include in advance stories of athletic meets are innumerable. Some of the more important particulars, however, are predictions of the outcome, the effect of the contest on future events or on the rank of the teams, names of the players and the officials, absence of important men, opinions of the men, their trainers, or their followers, weak spots in their play, local or national interest, time and place of the contest, ways of reaching the field or grounds,--in fact, any details that will interest one's readers in the approaching game. Such preliminary writeups require good reporters--men who can observe closely and analyze carefully, and hence can give their readers reasonable predictions of the success of the teams in which they are interested. The following may be taken as a typical preliminary story:

| =PROMINENT OFFICIALS AT GAME TO-DAY= | | | | +-------------------------------------------+ | | |=Facts About To-day's Football Game= | | | | | | | |=Teams=--Army and Navy. | | | | | | | |=Place=--Polo Grounds. | | | | | | | |=Time=--2 P.M. | | | | | | | |=Corps of Cadets and Brigade of Midshipmen | | | |march on the field=--1 to 1.30 P.M. | | | | | | | |=Weather Forecast=--Fair and warm; rain | | | |late in the afternoon or night. | | | | | | | |=Routes to the Grounds=--Eighth and Ninth | | | |Avenue "L" and Broadway subway. | | | | | | | |=Directions for Finding Seats=--On the back| | | |of each ticket are printed directions for | | | |locating the seats in the various sections.| | | +-------------------------------------------+ | | | |When the referee's whistle sends the Army and Navy | |teams charging into each other this afternoon at the| |Polo Grounds, most of the United States government | |officials, army, navy and marine corps officers will| |be gathered in the seats and boxes around the | |sidelines to cheer 1915's football season on to its | |death in the spectacularly most brilliant game of | |the year. | | | |President Wilson, doomed again to neutrality, will | |divide his time between the Army and Navy sides of | |the field. Mrs. Galt will arrive with him shortly | |before 1 o'clock on the train which brings besides | |them one of the largest and most distinguished | |delegations of government officials, army and navy | |officers, who ever saw an Army-Navy game. | | | |Secretary Garrison will be whooping it up for the | |Army on the cadets' side of the field. Secretary | |Daniels, reinforced by his twenty-one-year-old son, | |will be right there where the Blue and Gold of the | |Navy waves, and take it from the Navy this Secretary| |is some rooter when he gets going. | | | |Secretary McAdoo will be there--but why attempt to | |name all or many of the prominent folk. Cabinet | |officers, admirals and generals, all take a back | |seat to-day. In the full glare of the limelight | |stand the twenty-two gridiron fighters from West | |Point and Annapolis. To-day there is only one firing| |line; it's the chalk-marked field at the Polo | |Grounds. | | | |The Midshipmen arrived here Thursday and went to the| |Vanderbilt yesterday. The Army team, coaches, | |trainers, and advance delegation of officers | |arrived, making the Hotel Astor their headquarters. | |Every train from Washington, from Annapolis, from | |West Point, which pulled into New York thereafter | |was packed with Army and Navy adherents. | | | |And Broadway was ready with its usual welcome. The | |Vanderbilt, Astor, Waldorf, McAlpin, and Martinique | |were profusely decorated with the flags and with | |Army and Navy colors. Generals met cub lieutenants | |in the cafés and dining-rooms (where seats had been | |reserved both for last night and to-night weeks in | |advance), all eager to get some late "dope" on the | |game. | | | |Store fronts were gay with the Navy Blue and Gold | |and the Army Black and Gold and Gray; street hawkers| |were disposing of the winning colors. New York was | |on its biannual football spree last night. The Army | |and Navy were in town.... | | | |Betting? Well, as a Navy man put it, "We've got a | |few iron men with us." Yes, they all came "heeled." | |Navy men are asking 2 to 1 and getting it in spots. | |But as the hours slipped by and the old Army-Navy | |feeling grew, there was no telling the odds--each | |man bet as the impulse of the moment prompted him, | |anywhere from 3 to 1 to even money. | | | | Probable Line-up To-day | | | | Army Wgt. Navy Wgt. | | Neyland 170 L.E. Von H'mb'g 180 | | Jones 200 L.T. Ward 177 | | O'hare 192 L.G. Kercher 185 | | McEwan 192 C. Goodstein 172 | | Meacham 176 R.G. Smith 199 | | Weyand 197 R.T. Gilman 187 | | Redfield 163 R.E. Johnson 169 | | Gerhardt 145 Q.B. Craig 147 | | Ford 171 L.H. Westphal 184 | | Oliphant 163 R.H. Davis 153 | | Coffin 162 F.B. Martin 161 | | | | T'l weight 1931 lbs. T'l weight 1914 lbs. | | Avg. wgt., 175.6 lbs. Avg. wgt., 174 lbs. | | | |Referee, W. S. Langford, Trinity; umpire, F. W. | |Murphy, Brown; field judge, J. A. Evans, Williams; | |head linesman, Carl Marshall, Harvard.[36] |

[36] _New York World_, November 27, 1916.

=251. Review Stories.=--Stories written days after a game are generally of an analytical nature, their purpose being to review the play or contest and explain why one team or contestant was successful and the other a failure, or why one method of play, attack, or defense proved better than others. Sometimes, however, such stories are merely individual incidents learned late, but of interest nevertheless to the readers. An analytical story is the following:

| =NEW RULES UPSET TEAMS= | | | |With the advent of October, the month which | |generally ushers in the football seasons, the defeat| |of Yale by Virginia was one of the most conspicuous | |cases of the old adage that history will repeat | |itself in football as well as in any other line of | |athletic endeavor. | | | |In former years supposedly stronger elevens have met| |with unexpected setbacks from teams which were | |thought to be only tools in the helpful development | |of the big elevens for the harder and more important| |contests to be played later in the season. In the | |old days of the five-yard rule and mass play, | |schedules could be outlined with so much accuracy | |that a coach or athletic director seldom made | |mistakes in his schedules. | | | |In those days the chart was framed so that each | |succeeding game would be harder to win.... The teams| |were sent into the game to test the pet plays of the| |coaches, such as the revolving mass on tackle, hard | |concentrated attacks on and off the tackles, with | |the runner being pushed and pulled by his | |teammates.... | | | |If plays as outlined by the coaches did not make the| |necessary distances, then the teams practically | |settled down to a man to man contest, and football | |history records the number of games which ended | |either in scoreless ties or knotted counts. | | | |Following this old custom, the big teams select the | |opponents who in the old days were easy to beat in | |the first games. It is true some changes have been | |made in schedules, but it is only reasonable to | |assume that the coach of a large eleven would be | |foolish to schedule an opening contest with a team | |which he thought had a chance to beat his own | |aggregation. | | | |Using Yale as an example, the authorities at New | |Haven would never have scheduled the Virginia game | |unless they thought in their own minds that Old Eli | |would trot off the field an easy winner. On the last| |Saturday in September the Blue eleven had an easy | |time winning from Maine, 37 to 0. | | | |Following the changes in the rules, coaches nowadays| |cannot afford to take a chance with any team, | |whether they have a heavy, strong team or a well | |balanced eleven. The players do not get accustomed | |to the excitement of actual combat so early in the | |season, and the least little thing which goes wrong | |in their offensive or defensive play will unbalance | |them for the remainder of the contest. | | | |Harvard, last year's eastern champion, was compelled| |to play a lot of football to win from the | |Massachusetts Aggies by a single touchdown. Had | |Percy Haughton, the Crimson coach, thought his team | |would experience such a hard game so early in the | |season, the contest would not have been listed. The | |Crimson eleven, in other words, was opposed by a | |team which had been thoroughly groomed in every | |department of the game, the Aggies apparently | |realizing what a victory would mean to them.[37]... |

[37] Walter H. Eckersall in the _Chicago Tribune_, October 10, 1915.

=252. General Stories.=--The last type of sporting news story, that relating to a sport only in a general way, may be considered briefly. In this type the actual news value is small. The interest of the story lies rather in its informative worth, the writer's purpose being to present general, but significant, facts that will interest followers of the sport. Usually it is expository. Its nature is well illustrated by the following subjects chosen practically at random: "Batters in the American Association Weaker in 1916 than in 1915"; "Title Holders in the Ring Play Safety First--Refuse Long Battles"; "Tennis Gaining in Popularity"; "Is Baseball a Back Number?"; "Any Man Can Play Par Golf"; "Ty Cobb's Place in Baseball History." Such stories are valuable in the Sunday edition, and in addition to giving general surveys of various sports, help to interest readers when athletic news is scarce. They are the feature stories of sports.

XVII. SOCIETY

=253. What Society News Is.=--The society editor's work concerns itself with the social and personal news of the city and county in which the paper is published or from which it draws its patronage. It is almost entirely local, news of the state or of other cities being of value only in so far as it affects women and men of one's own town through former exchanges of courtesy or hospitality, or for similar causes. Nor does it concern itself with the unconventional, the abnormal. Elopements, clandestine marriages, unusual engagements, freakish parties, and similar extraordinary social and personal news do not come within the sphere of the society editor, but take regular, and usually prominent, places in the news columns.

=254. Difficulty.=--The society editor's work is with the conventional in the local fashionable world, and for this reason probably no other kind of news demands so consistent care, discrimination, and habitual restraint. She--the society editor is practically always a woman--must recognize readily relative social distinctions, to know what names and functions to feature in her column or section, and to be able to present the details of those functions acceptably to the various social groups about which and for which she is writing. The latter requisite in particular is difficult. For in attempting to give appreciative accounts of weddings, dances, receptions, she is liable to overstep the narrow limits of conventional usage and make herself ridiculous by extravagance of statement; or else, in trying to avoid unnecessary display of enthusiasm, she is led into use of trite, colorless words and stock phrases. She must by all means take care not to say that "the handsome groom wearing the conventional black and the lovely bride arrayed in a charming creation of white satin consummated their sacred nuptial vows amid banks of fragrant lilies and beautiful, blushing roses to the melodious strains of Mendelssohn's entrancing wedding march."

=255. Illustrations.=--The following stories of engagements, weddings, dinners, dances, receptions, club meetings, and charity benefits have been selected at random to show the accepted methods of handling society write-ups. At the end are added a few personal items--_personals_, they are generally termed--and a single "society review." The restraint and dignity of tone of the stories are worth close study.

|The first debutante of the season to become engaged | |is Miss Bessie Allen, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. | |George Osborne Allen, whose engagement to Harry O. | |Best was announced Saturday. Mr. Best is a son of | |Mr. and Mrs. George R. Best, of 131 East | |Fifty-fourth street. He was graduated from Harvard | |in 1913 and is a member of the Knickerbocker Club of| |this city, and also of the Balustrol Golf Club. He | |is a member of the firm of Best and Flom, 136 Walker| |Street. Mr. Best is the third in direct line to bear| |his name, being a grandson of the late George R. | |Best, one of the most noted architects of this city.| |The wedding will take place in the spring. |

| =WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS= | | | |In the Church of the Heavenly Rest on Tuesday | |afternoon at 3:30 will be celebrated the wedding of | |Miss Doris Ryer, daughter of Mrs. Fletcher Ryer of | |San Francisco, Cal., to Stanhope Wood Nixon, son of | |Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. The wedding ceremony will | |be witnessed by a large number of relatives and | |friends from California and several of the principal| |Eastern cities where the families of both the bride | |and her fiancé are prominent. | | | |Gov. Charles S. Whitman is to act as Miss Ryer's | |sponsor and will give her away. Miss Phyllis de | |Young, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Michael H. de Young | |of San Francisco, will be the maid of honor and the | |bridesmaids will be the Misses Pauline Disston of | |Philadelphia, Ray Slater of Boston, Mary Moreland of| |Pittsburg, Elizabeth Sands of Newport, Frances Moore| |of Washington, and Helen Flake of this city. | | | |Walbridge S. Taft will be the best man. The ushers | |will be Henry S. Ladew, Patrick Calhoun, Henry | |Rogers Benjamin, Ammi Wright Lancashire, Esmond P. | |O'Brien and Hugh D. Cotton. | | | |Following the wedding ceremony there will be a | |reception in the ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton. The | |engagement of Miss Ryer and Mr. Nixon was announced | |last autumn. The bride-to-be has passed the greater | |part of the last two winters in New York with her | |mother and during the summer season has been | |identified with the colony in Newport, R. I.[38] |

[38] _New York Sun_, January 21, 1917.

| =WEDDING= | | | |Miss Celia Cravis, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Myer | |Cravis, of 1817 North Thirty-second Street, became | |the bride of Harry Cassman, of Atlantic City, | |Thursday. The ceremony was performed at 6:30 o'clock| |in the evening in the green room of the Adelphi | |Hotel by the Rev. Marvin Nathan, assisted by the | |Rev. Armin Rosenberg. | | | |The father of the bride gave her in marriage. Her | |gown of white satin was given a frosted effect by | |crystal bead embroidery and was made with court | |train. Her tulle veil was held by a bandeau of | |lilies of the valley. A white prayer book was | |carried and also a bouquet of orchids, gardenias and| |lilies of the valley. | | | |The maid of honor was Miss Katherine Abrahams, | |wearing blue satin trimmed with silver. She carried | |a double shower bouquet of tea roses and lilies of | |the valley, and a yellow ostrich feather fan, the | |gift of the bride. | | | |The bridesmaids, Miss Estelle Freeman, Miss Tillie | |Greenhouse, Miss Estelle Sacks and Miss Leonore | |Printz, were dressed in frocks of different pastel | |shades, ranging white, pink, blue and violet. Each | |carried a basket of roses and a pink feather fan. | |Miss Madeline Cravis and Miss Sylvia Gravan, the | |flower girls, wore pink and carried baskets of pink | |roses. | | | |Herbert W. Salus acted as best man. The ushers were | |Lewis E. Stern and Walter Hanstein, of Atlantic | |City; I. S. Cravis and Henry Gotlieb. | | | |A reception for about 250 guests followed the | |ceremony. After a tour of the South, Mr. and Mrs. | |Cassman will be at 217 South Seaside Avenue, | |Atlantic City.[39] |

[39] _Philadelphia Public Ledger_, December 17, 1916.

| =TEAS, DINNERS, LUNCHEONS= | | | |Miss Alice Williams, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Edward| |T. Williams, was presented to society yesterday | |afternoon at a tea in the home of her parents, 1901 | |Eighteenth Street. Miss Williams was born in | |Shanghai, China, during her father's connection with| |the United States legation there, and she has lived | |most of her life in the Orient. Mr. Williams was | |chargé d'affaires of the United States at the time | |of the recognition of the new Chinese republic. At | |the time of the outbreak of the war in Europe Miss | |Williams was a student in Paris. Mr. Williams is now| |the head of the Bureau of Far Eastern Affairs in the| |State Department. | | | |Mrs. Williams presented her daughter, with no | |assistants save three of her daughter's young | |friends, Miss Helen Miller, Miss Virginia Puller and| |Miss Ethel Christiensen, who presided in the dining | |room. The drawing room and dining room were both | |transformed into bowers of blossoms, sent to the | |debutante, which were charmingly arranged. Mrs. | |Miller wore a graceful gown of black net and lace | |over black satin. The debutante wore a becoming | |costume of rose silk and silver trimming and carried| |sweet peas a portion of the afternoon, and the bunch| |of roses sent by Mrs. Lansing, wife of the Secretary| |of State, the rest of the time. Miss Miller and Miss| |Christiensen were each in white net and tulle and | |Miss Puller wore blue and white.[40] |

[40] _Washington Post_, November 26, 1916.

|Mrs. Fred Enderly, who has recently returned after a| |long absence in the East, was specially honored with| |a Halloween birthday dinner given by Mrs. Lottie | |Logan, of No. 1532 Ingraham Street Tuesday evening. | |The table was in yellow, with a floral center of | |chrysanthemums and favors of black cats, diminutive | |pumpkin people and other suggestive Halloween | |conceits. The guests were whisked up to the | |dressing-rooms by a witch, and Mrs. George H. | |Rector, attired in somber soothsayer's robes, told | |fortunes. Place-cards were written for Mr. and Mrs. | |Enderly, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald Hart, Mr. and Mrs. | |George Rector, Mr. and Mrs. Henry Henderson, Mr. and| |Mrs. George McDaniel, Mrs. Fred Detmer, Miss | |Wilhelmina Rector, Miss Talcot, Messrs. Mark Ellis, | |Jack Bushnell, L. D. Maescher and O. H. Logan.[41] |

[41] _Los Angeles Times_, November 5, 1916.

| =RECEPTION= | | | |Mr. and Mrs. Henry V. Black of Broadway, Irvington, | |gave a reception this afternoon for their debutante | |daughter, Miss Latjerome Black. Receiving with Mrs. | |Black were Mrs. P. F. Llewellyn Chambers, Mrs. | |Frederick Sayles, Mrs. Charles Coombs, Mrs. Benjamin| |Prince, Mrs. Theodosia Bailey, Mrs. Charles Hope, | |Miss Caramai Carroll, Miss Dorothy Brown, Mrs. | |Robert C. Black and Miss Dorothy Black. Receiving | |with Miss Black were the Misses Marion Townsend, | |Helen Sayles, Dorothy Clifford, Marion Becker, Helen| |Geer, and Genevieve Clendenin. Miss Black wore a | |dress of white silk embroidery and pink roses. The | |decorations were of autumn leaves and | |chrysanthemums. | | | |Among the guests were Dr. and Mrs. Albert Shaw, Mrs.| |Edwin Gould, Mrs. Howard Carroll, Mrs. Finley J. | |Shepard, Miss Anne Depew Paulding, Mrs. William | |Carter, Miss Millette, Mrs. John Luke, Mrs. Adam | |Luke, Mrs. H. D. Eastabrook, Mrs. John D. Archbold, | |Mrs. Henry Graves, and Dr. and Mrs. D. Russell.[42] |

[42] _New York Sun_, September 24, 1915.

| =DANCE= | | | |Elaboration of detail marked the oriental ball given| |by the Sierra Madre Club at its rooms in the | |Investment Building last evening. More than 400 | |members and guests attended in garb of the Far | |East--costumes whose values ran far into the | |hundreds. The club rooms were draped in a | |bewildering manner with tapestry of the Celestial | |Empire and the land of Nippon, and the rugs of | |Turkey and Arabia. | | | |It was a most colorful event--sultans robed in many | |colors with bejeweled turbans; Chinese mandarins in | |long flowing coats; bearded Moors, who danced with | |Geisha girls of Japan, gowned in multi-colored | |silken kimonos; petite China maids in silken | |pantaloons and bobtailed jackets; Salome dancers of | |the East, in baggy bloomers and jeweled corsages, | |and harem houris in dazzling draperies. | | | |Preceding the dancing, a remarkable dinner, | |featuring the choicest foods of the Orient, was | |served by attendants wearing the dress of Chinese | |coolies. The rare old syrups of the Orient were | |enjoyed by the diners, while the fragrant odor of | |burning incense lent an air of subtle mysticism. | | | |Among the 400 guests present were:[43] |

[43] _Los Angeles Times_, February 18, 1917.

| =CLUB MEETING= | | | |At this week's meeting of the New England Women's | |Press Association, Miss Helen M. Winslow, chairman | |of the programme committee, presented Joseph Edgar | |Chamberlin of _The Transcript_, who spoke on "The | |Work of Women in Journalism." Mr. Chamberlin gave | |many personal reminiscences of women writers whom he| |had known in his connection with various | |publications. He expressed regret that women are not| |doing more in editorial work, as in the earlier | |years of their entrance into the newspaper field, | |and the belief that it would be of advantage to | |journalism and to the public if they gave more | |attention to writing of this character rather than | |that directed almost exclusively for women's | |departments and others of superficial value. Mr. | |Chamberlin paid especial compliment to the work of | |Margaret Buchanan Sullivan, Jeannette Gilder, Jennie| |June Croly and Kate Field. Mr. Chamberlin spoke in | |high praise of Miss Cornelia M. Walter (afterward | |Mrs. W. B. Richards) who was editor-in-chief and had| |full charge of _The Transcript_ from 1842 to 1847. | |The executive board voted to co-operate with the | |Travelers' Aid Society and Mrs. Ralph M. Kirtland | |was elected chairman of the committee to formulate | |plans.[44] |

[44] _Boston Transcript_, December 9, 1916.

| =CHARITY BENEFIT= | | | |On Thursday afternoon at 4 o'clock Mrs. W. K. | |Vanderbilt of 660 Fifth Avenue will open her house | |for a benefit entertainment in aid of the Appuiaux | |Artistes of France. Viscountess de Rancougne is to | |give her talk on the work being done in the French | |and Belgian hospitals and in the bombarded towns and| |villages, illustrated with colored slides from | |photographs taken by herself. An interesting musical| |program also has been arranged for the afternoon, | |with Miss Callish, Mr. de Warlich, and Carlos | |Salzedo appearing. Mrs. Kenneth Frazier of 58 East | |Seventy-eighth Street is receiving applications for | |tickets at $5 each. On the Executive Committee are | |Kenneth Frazier, Ernest Peixotto, Edwin H. | |Blashfield, Charles Dana Gibson, Joseph H. Hunt, and| |Janet Scudder. Mrs. W. Bourke Cockran, Mrs. Howard | |Cushing, Mrs. E. H. Harriman, Mrs. Philip M. Lydig, | |Mrs. H. P. Whitney, and Miss Grace Bigelow make up | |the committee in charge.[45] |

[45] _New York Times_, February 20, 1916.

| =PERSONALS= | | | |Mrs. Robert R. Livingston and her son, Robert R. | |Livingston, have returned from a trip to the Pacific| |Coast and are at their town house, 11 Washington | |Square North, until they open Northwood, the | |Livingston estate near Cheviot-on-Hudson. They spent| |about six weeks on the coast. | | | |Mr. and Mrs. C. Oliver Iselin will return to their | |country place at Glen Head, L. I., late in April for| |the early summer. They are now occupying Hopelands, | |their place at Aiken, S. C. | | | |Mrs. and Mr. Francis de R. Wissmann have returned | |from a trip of some weeks to San Francisco and have | |been at the Gotham for a few days before opening | |Adelslea at Throgs Neck, Westchester, for the | |summer. | | | |The Rev. Dr. J. Nevett Steele of 122 West | |Seventy-sixth Street, vicar of St. Paul's Chapel, | |who has been ill with pneumonia since March 13, is | |now convalescing and will soon be able to resume his| |church duties. | | | |A son was born yesterday to Mr. and Mrs. Theodore | |Roosevelt, Jr., at their home, 165 East | |Seventy-fourth Street. The child is a grandson of | |Col. Theodore Roosevelt and will be named Cornelius | |Van Schaick Roosevelt, after his | |great-great-grandfather. This is the third child of | |Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt. Their first boy, Theodore | |Roosevelt, III, was born June 14, 1914. Mrs. | |Roosevelt was Miss Eleanor B. Alexander, daughter of| |Mrs. Henry Addison Alexander of 1840 Park Avenue. |

| =SOCIETY IN PROSPECT AND REVIEW= | | | |Never has a Washington season begun so early as this| |one. The middle of December finds the White House | |dinners in full sway, the President and Mrs. Wilson | |having dined with the Vice President and Mrs. | |Marshall, and the first state reception of the | |season in the White House due in two days. | | | |President and Mrs. Wilson already have had three | |large and formal dinner parties, the first one on | |December 7, in honor of Mr. Vance McCormick, | |chairman of the Democratic national committee; and | |on Tuesday of last week they entertained the Vice | |President and the members of the cabinet and their | |wives, with a number of other distinguished guests | |and a few young people. After this dinner a | |programme of music was given in the east room and | |the evening was a charming success. The First Lady | |of the Land never was more lovely than she was on | |this occasion. The President's niece, Miss Alice | |Wilson, of Baltimore, came over with her father for | |the evening. Miss Nataline Dulles, niece of Mrs. | |Lansing, made her first appearance at a state | |dinner, and Miss Margaret Wilson and Miss Bones were| |among the guests. On Thursday evening the visiting | |governors, former governors and governors-elect here| |for the conference this week, and their wives, were | |dined, with an interesting company. Friday evening | |the Vice President and Mrs. Marshall gave their | |annual dinner to the President and his wife, and had| |a senatorial company to meet them. | | | |The debutantes are in the full splendor of their | |glory, and the next three weeks will give them a | |supreme test of endurance, for luncheons, teas, | |dinners and dances not only follow one another | |closely, but pile up, with several in a day and not | |one to be neglected. There are no diplomatic buds, | |no cabinet buds, and few army, navy and | |congressional buds. But it is a strong residential | |year, with a number of debutantes in the smartest | |and most exclusive of the substantial old families. | |During the Christmas holidays the buds of the | |future, some of a year hence, others of two years, | |are vying with the older girls for busy days, and | |the social calendar shows scarcely a resting moment | |from the day they come home from school until they | |rush back to their studies in time to reach the | |first recitation class. And as for beauty sleep, | |there will be none. There will not be a night during| |the Christmas vacation when this younger set will | |not be dancing. Time was when dinner parties were | |composed of elderly, or at least middle-aged, people| |only, but now even the near-debutantes and their | |circle have a steady round of "dining out," with no | |fear of being considered "along in years," for there| |are dinners for all ages. | | | |Washington has given three of her most | |distinguished, most beautiful and most popular girls| |to foreign lands within two months, two of them | |having become princesses and the third a baroness. | |The first to wed was Miss Margaret Draper, heiress | |to several millions of her father's estate. She is | |now Princess Boncompagni of Rome, and her mother is | |now just about joining her and the prince in Paris, | |the three to proceed to the prince's home in Rome, | |where they will spend Christmas together, after | |which the prince will return to duty with his | |regiment. | | | |The second of these brides of foreigners was Miss | |Catherine Birney, daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. | |Theodore V. Birney, who was married December 2 to | |Baron von Schoen, of the German embassy staff, and | |is just back now from the wedding trip. They | |returned for the marriage of Miss Catherine Britton | |to the Prince zu Hohenlohe-Schillingsfuerst, of the | |Austro-Hungarian embassy staff. Baron and Baroness | |von Schoen will spend Christmas with the latter's | |sister, with whom she has made her home since the | |death of her parents, and then they will proceed to | |Mexico, whence the baron has been transferred. | | | |The marriage of Miss Britton and Prince zu Hohenlohe| |was not unexpected, but the wedding date was hurried| |about three months, the prince becoming an impatient| |wooer. He was assigned to duty at the | |Austro-Hungarian consulate in the summer and agreed | |to remain away for a year. He stood it as long as he| |could, and then returned to claim his bride. The | |consent of the prince's family has not been | |forthcoming, but the marriage has the sanction of | |the embassy, presumably by order of the new emperor,| |and it was a happy wedding scene. The bride is one | |of the famous beauties of Washington society. She | |was never lovelier than in her singularly simple | |wedding gown of satin with pearl trimmings, tulle | |sleeves, and enormous wedding veil. | | | |Society is dancing its way through the season. The | |fever is making inroads even upon the incessant | |auction-bridge playing, and he or she who neither | |dances nor plays auction has a dull time of it. | |Washington society is rather methodical in its | |dancing. Monday nights are given up to the | |subscription dances at the Playhouse, and another | |set at the Willard. Tuesday night the army dances | |are given at the Playhouse. On Wednesdays are the | |regular Chevy Chase Club dinner dances, and on | |Thursdays are those at the Navy Club. On Friday | |nights, beginning on January 5, will be the ten | |subscription dances at the Willard, and on Saturday | |nights there are dances everywhere. The private | |dances are scattered all through, afternoons and | |evenings, until there is scarcely a date left vacant| |on the calendar until Ash Wednesday.[46] |

[46] _Washington Post_, December 17, 1916.

=256. Clubs.=--The particular attention of the prospective society editor may be called to club news. The work in literature, education, community betterment, general social relief, and kindred subjects now being undertaken by women's clubs is sometimes phenomenal and offers to live society editors a vast undeveloped field for constructive news. Too frequently the society page is filled with dull six-point routine, forbidding in style and still more forbidding in content, when it might be made alive with buoyancy and interest by added attention to new studies and interests in the women's clubs. What the women are doing in their study of the garbage question, in their campaigns against flies, in their efforts to provide comforts for unprivileged slum children,--such topics, properly featured and given attractive individual heads, may be made interesting to a large percentage of the intelligent women in the community and may be made instrumental in building up a strong, constructive department in the paper.

=257. Typographical Style.=--The prospective society editor will find it well, however, to study and to follow at first the typographical style of the society column in her paper. Some newspapers run each wedding, engagement, or social affair under a separate head. Others group all society stories under the general head of _Society_, indicating the different social functions, no matter how long the write-ups, only by new paragraphs. Sometimes this necessitates paragraphs a half-column long. In preparing lists of names in society reports, the editor should group like names and titles together. That is, she should group together the married couples, then the married women whose names appear alone, then the unmarried women, and finally the men. An illustration is the following:

|Among the several hundred guests were Mr. and Mrs. | |S. Bryce Wing, Mr. and Mrs. Felix D. Doubleday, Mr. | |and Mrs. Lewis Gouvernour Morris.... | | | |Among the debutantes and other young women present | |were Misses Gretchen Blaine Damrosch, Priscilla | |Peabody, Irene Langhorne Gibson, Rosalie G. | |Bloodgood.... | | | |The young men present included Messrs. Lester | |Armour, Edward M. McIlvaine, Jr., Edgar Allan Poe, | |William Carrington Stettinius, Nelson Doubleday, | |Herbert Pulitzer.... |

=258. Spurious Announcements.=--A word may be said in conclusion about getting society news. One of the first precautions to a prospective society editor is not to accept announcements of engagements, marriages, and births of children from any others than the immediate persons concerned. In particular, one should beware of such news given by telephone. Too many so-called practical jokes are attempted in this way on sensitive lovers and young married couples. Many newspapers have printed forms for announcements of engagements and weddings. These are mailed directly to the families concerned and require their signatures.

=259. Sources for Society News.=--In cases of important news, such as weddings and charity benefits, the editor generally has little difficulty in obtaining all the facts needed. Some social leaders are naturally good about giving one details of their parties. Others, however, shun publicity even to the extent of denying prospective luncheons, dinners, and card parties--particularly if they are small--after all plans have been made, and the details may be had only after they know the reporter has definite facts. To get these first facts is often one's hardest task. Frequently one can acquire the friendly acquaintance of some one in society who likes to have her name appear with the real leaders. Men, too,--even husbands,--often are not so reticent about their immediate social affairs and are glad to give pretty society editors advance tips of coming events. But the best sources are the caterers, the florists, and the hair-dressing parlors. The caterers are engaged weeks in advance. The florists provide the decorations. And the hair-dressing parlors are hotbeds of gossip. By visiting or calling regularly at these places one generally can keep abreast of all the society news in town. But always when getting news from such sources--or from any other for that matter--one must be sure of the absolute accuracy of all addresses, names, and initials. If one is not careful,--well, only one who has seen an irate mother talk to the city editor before the ink on the home edition is dry can appreciate the trouble that will probably result.

XVIII. FOLLOW-UPS, REWRITES

=260. "Follow-ups."=--"Rewrites" and "follow-up" stories are news stories which have appeared in print. The distinction between the two is that "follow-ups" contain news in addition to that of the story first printed, while "rewrites" are only revisions. Few news stories are complete on their first appearance. New features develop; motives, causes, and unlooked-for results come to light in a way that is oftentimes amazing. Sometimes these facts appear within a few hours; again they are days in developing; and occasionally, after they have developed, the story will "follow" for weeks, months, and even years without losing its interest. The Thaw, Becker, and Charlton stories ran for years. The first item about the _Titanic_ disaster was a bulletin of less than half a stick; yet the story ran for months.

=261. Constructive Side of "Follow-ups."=--A reporter, therefore, must not consider a story ended until he has run to ground all the possibilities or until the new facts have ceased to be of interest to a large body of readers. Indeed, it is in the "follow-up" that the reporter has one of his greatest opportunities to prove himself a constructive journalist. There is every reason, too, for believing it will be in the "follow-up" that the big newspaper of the future will find its greatest development. At present, stories often are dropped too quickly, so quickly that the really constructive news is lost. A great epidemic sweeps a city, taking an unprecedented toll of life and entailing expenditures of hundreds of thousands of dollars. All the reporters grind out pages and pages of copy about the plague, but few follow the physicians and scientists through the coming weeks and months in their unflagging determination to learn the causes of the disease, to effect cures, and to prevent a recurrence of it as an epidemic. Yet such news is constructive and is of greater value probably to the readers than the somewhat sensational figures of the plague. For the scientists will conquer in the end, and all along the way their improved methods of cure and prevention will be of educational value to the public. So also with strikes, wrecks, fires, commercial panics, graft and crime exposures, etc.; the reporter is advised to follow the story through the weeks to come, not necessarily writing of it all the while, but holding it in prospect for the constructive news that is sure to follow.

=262. Following up a Story.=--The first story which the new reporter will have to follow up he will some day find stuck behind the platen of his typewriter. It will have been put there by one of the copy-readers who has read the local papers of the preceding morning or afternoon and has clipped this article as one promising further developments. The first thing to do is to read the whole story carefully. (As a matter of fact, the reporter really should have read and should be familiar with the story already. Familiarity with all the news is expected of newspaper men at all times.) Then he should look to see if the reporter writing the story has played up the real features. In his haste to get the news into print, the other reporter may have missed the main feature. A delightful case in point is a "follow-up" of an indifferent story appearing in a New York morning paper:

|Because they were penniless and hungry, Charles | |Ewart, 31 years old, and his wife Emily, living at | |646 St. Nicholas Avenue, were arrested yesterday in | |the grocery store of Jacob Bosch, 336 St. Nicholas | |Avenue, charged with shoplifting. When arrested by | |Detective Taczhowski, who had trailed them all the | |way from a downtown department store, seven eggs and| |a box of figs were found in Mrs. Ewart's handsome | |blue fox muff.... |

But the cause of the couple's pilfering was not poverty or hunger, as was shown by a clever writer on the _New York World_ who covered the story that afternoon. Here is his write-up, in which the reader should note the entire change of tone and the happy handling of the human interest features:

| =CONFESSED SHOPLIFTERS= | | | |Mrs. Emily Ewart, slender, petite, pretty, sat in | |the police department to-day, tossed back her blue | |fox neckpiece, patted her moist eyes with a | |lace-embroidered handkerchief, carefully adjusted in| |her lap the handsome fox muff which the police say | |had but lately been the repository of seven eggs and| |a box of figs, and told how she and her husband | |happened to be arrested last evening as shoplifters.| | | |As she talked, her husband, Charles Ewart, | |thirty-one years old, sat disconsolately in a cell, | |his modish green overcoat somewhat wrinkled, the | |careful creases in his gray trousers a bit less | |apparent, and his up-to-the-minute gray fedora a | |trifle out of shape and dusty. Nevertheless, he | |still retained the mien of dignity with which he met| |his arrest in the grocery store of Jacob Bosch at | |No. 336 St. Nicholas Avenue. | | | |Of course, you understand, it was really Mrs. | |Ewart's fault that she and her husband should stoop | |to pilfering from a hardworking grocer eggs worth 42| |cents (at their market value of 72 cents a dozen) | |and a box of figs, net value one dime. At least, so | |she told the police. She too, she said, led him to | |appropriate a travelling bag worth $10 from a | |downtown department store. | | | |If it hadn't been for her, young Mr. Ewart might | |have gone right along earning his so much per week | |soliciting theatre curtain advertisements for the | |Bentley Studios, at No. 1493 Broadway, and might | |never have run afoul of the police. | | | |The Ewarts, so the young woman's story ran, came | |here from Chicago two weeks ago. Of their life in | |the Western city she refused to tell anything. But | |since coming to New York, she admitted, they had | |travelled a hard financial road. | | | |Detective Taczkowski's attention was first called to| |Ewart in a downtown department store yesterday | |afternoon, when Ewart tried to return a travelling | |bag which he said his wife had bought for $10. | |Investigation of the store's records showed Mrs. | |Ewart had bought a bag for $3.95, but that the $10 | |bag had been stolen. Ewart was put off on a | |technicality and the detective followed him when he | |left the store. Outside Ewart was met by his wife. | |Into the subway Taczkowski shadowed them and at last| |the trail led to the Bosch grocery on St. Nicholas | |Avenue. | | | |In the store, Taczkowski kept his eyes on Mrs. | |Ewart, in her modish gown and furs, while Ewart | |engaged a clerk in conversation. Suddenly, | |Taczkowski alleges, he saw an egg worth six cents | |disappear from a crate into Mrs. Ewart's handsome | |fur muff. Another egg followed, and another, he | |says, until, like the children of the poem, they | |were seven. When a box of figs followed the eggs, | |Taczkowski says, he arrested the pair. | | | |A search of the Ewarts' apartment at No. 646 St. | |Nicholas Avenue, the police say, revealed a great | |quantity of men's and women's clothing of the finest| |variety. Mrs. Ewart, the police say, admitted she | |had stolen the blue fox furs from a downtown store | |and the police expect to identify much of the | |handsome clothing found in the apartment as stolen | |goods. | | | |"We were hungry and had no money," Mrs. Ewart sobbed| |at police headquarters. "We had all that clothing, | |but not a cent to buy food. I am the one to blame, | |for I encouraged my husband to steal." | | | |Ewart and his wife were arraigned in Yorkville Court| |before Magistrate Harris to-day and were held in | |$500 bail each for further examination.[47] |

[47] _New York Evening World_, November 11, 1915.

=263. New Facts.=--Generally in the "follow-up" it is the newly learned facts that are featured. In the case of a sudden death, for instance, it would be the funeral arrangements; in a railway wreck, the investigation and the placing of blame. The following stories illustrate:

| =Story in a Morning Paper= | | | |Dashing through a rain-storm with lightning flashes | |blinding him, William H. Blanchard, manager for the | |Wells Fargo Express Company, drove his automobile | |off the approach of the open State Street bridge | |to-night and was drowned. Otto Eller, teacher of | |manual training in the West Side High School, | |escaped by leaping into the river. Eller says the | |warning lights were not displayed at the bridge. | | | |When the automobile was recovered, it was shown that| |the car was not moving fast, as it had barely | |dropped off the abutment, a few feet from shore. The| |bridge was open because its operating equipment had | |been put out of order by a stroke of lightning. |

| =The Follow-up= | | | |The body of William H. Blanchard, manager of the | |Wells Fargo Express Company, who lost his life when | |he drove an automobile into an open drawbridge, was | |recovered this morning about 100 feet from where the| |accident occurred. | | | |Investigations have been started by the coroner and | |friends to place the blame for the accident. The | |electrical mechanism of the bridge was out of | |commission on account of a storm and it was being | |operated by hand. Spectators declare no warning | |lights were on the bridge. |

=264. Results Featured.=--Frequently the lead to the follow-up features the results effected by the details of the earlier story:

| =Original Story= | | | |The total yield of the leading cereal crops of the | |United States this year will be nearly 1,000,000,000| |bushels less than last year. The government | |estimates of the crop issued to-day showed | |sensational losses in the spring wheat crop in the | |Northwest, a further shrinkage in winter wheat, and | |big losses compared to a month ago and last year in | |corn and oats. | | | |Both barley and rye figures also indicate greater | |losses compared to a year ago than were shown in the| |July government report. |

| =The Follow-up Next Day= | | | |American wheat pits had a day of turmoil to-day such| |as they have not seen since the stirring times when | |war was declared in Europe. | | | |Influenced by the startling government report | |showing enormous losses in the spring wheat crop, | |prices soared even more sharply than the wiseacres | |had anticipated. | | | |They were 5 to 8 cents higher when the gong struck, | |the report, released after the close of 'change | |Tuesday, having had its effect over night. At the | |close they registered a gain of from 10-5/8 to | |11-3/8 cents for the day. Wheat had gone above $1.50| |a bushel. Two months ago it was around $1.05. |

=265. Probable Results.=--Where no more important details can be learned, it sometimes is wise to feature probable results.

|A break in diplomatic relations between the United | |States and Germany as a result of the torpedoing of | |the Lusitania by a German submarine is the expressed| |belief to-day of high Washington officials. |

=266. Clues for Identification.=--In stories of crime, when the offenders have escaped, the lead to the follow-up may begin with clues for establishing the identity of the criminals.

|If a piano tuner about forty years of age, wearing a| |pair of silver spectacles and accompanied by a | |petite, brown-eyed girl twenty years his junior, | |comes to your house for work, telephone the Boston | |police. They are the two, it is alleged, who robbed | |the Mather apartments yesterday. |

=267. Featuring Lack of News.=--In rare cases the very fact that there is no additional news is worth featuring.

|Up to a late hour to-night nothing had been heard of| |Henry O. Mallory, prosecuting attorney in the Howard| |murder case, who disappeared yesterday on his way to| |Lexington. |

=268. Opinions of Prominent Persons.=--An otherwise unimportant follow story may sometimes be made a good one by interviewing prominent persons and localizing the reader's interest in men or women he knows.

|That the new eugenics law passed by the state | |legislature of Wisconsin yesterday is doomed to | |failure from the start, is the opinion of Health | |Commissioner Shannon, who was in Madison when the | |final vote was taken. |

=269. Summary of Opinions.=--Sometimes, indeed, it is well to interview a number of local persons and make the lead a summary of their views.

|Widely different opinions were expressed by | |prominent physicians, professors, clergymen, and | |social workers throughout this city to-day on the | |ethics of the course taken by Dr. H. J. Haiselden of| |Chicago in allowing the defective son of a patient | |to die. |

=270. Connecting Links.=--In all these stories, the reader should note, sufficient explanatory matter has been included to connect the incidents readily with the events of the preceding days. This is important in every follow-up; for always many readers will have missed the earlier stories and consequently will need definite connection to relate the new events with preceding occurrences. It is also important for these connecting links to be included in, or to follow immediately after, the lead, because they give the reader necessary facts for understanding the new information--give him his bearings, as it were,--without which he will not read far into the story.

=271. "Rewrites."=--While most stories are not complete on their first appearance, it sometimes happens, nevertheless, that the first publication of an item contains all the facts of interest to a paper's readers and that priority of publication has been gained by another journal. Yet the story will be of interest to the readers of one's own paper and must be published. It is the duty of the rewrite man to handle such a story, and to handle it in such a way that it shall bear no resemblance to the story published by the other paper. For this reason the most skillful reporters on a daily are the rewrite men. They must find new features for old stories, or new angles of view, or new relations of some kind between the various details.

=272. Bringing a Story up to the Minute.=--The first requisite in rewriting is the necessity of making old news new, of bringing it up to the minute. No matter when the events occurred, they must be presented to the reader so that they shall seem current. Currency is all but a necessity to life, vigor, interest in a yesterday's event. Here is an item of news in point. Suppose the following story from an afternoon paper is given a reporter on a morning daily:

|Charged with running his car thirty miles an hour, | |Dr. Harry O. Smith, prominent city physician with | |offices in the Vincennes Building, was arrested on | |Kentucky Street this afternoon by Motorcycle | |Policeman DuPre. After giving bonds for his | |appearance to-morrow, Dr. Smith left in his machine | |for Linwood, where he was going when stopped by | |Policeman DuPre. | | | |Concerning his arrest Dr. Smith refused to make any | |other statement than that he was on his way to see a| |patient. |

The reporter cannot see Dr. Smith to obtain additional facts, because the doctor is out of town. Nor can he expect any more news, since the case will not come up until some hours after his paper will have been in the hands of its readers. It is also against journalistic rules to begin with "Dr. Smith was arrested yesterday." That _yesterday_ must be eliminated from the lead. Here is the method one rewrite man used to get out of the difficulty:

Another way in which he might have avoided the troublesome _yesterday_ would be:

|One of the first cases on police docket this morning| |will be the hearing of Dr. Harry O. Smith, prominent| |Cincinnati physician with offices in the Vincennes | |building, who was arrested on a charge of speeding | |yesterday by Policeman DuPre. |

Or he might have begun:

|Whether the life of a sick patient is worth more | |than that of a healthy pedestrian may be decided in | |police court this morning. |

In each of these rewrites it will be noted that the story has been brought down to the time of the appearance of the paper.

=273. New Features.=--The next thing to seek in the story to be rewritten is a new feature. Generally this is obtained in bringing the story up to date. If not, the reporter may examine, as in the "follow-up," to see whether the first story plays up the best feature, or whether it does not contain another feature equally good, or one possibly entirely overlooked. Failing here, he may look forward to probable developments, as an investigation following a wreck, a search by the police following a burglary, or an arraignment and trial following an arrest. Failing again, he may consider whether some cause or motive or agency for the fire or divorce or crime may not have gone unnoticed by the other man. Or best of all, he may try to relate the incident with similar events occurring recently, as in the case of a number of fires, burglaries, or explosions coming close upon each other. Whatever course he chooses, he should use his imagination to good advantage, taking care always to make his rewrite truthful. Here is the way a few rewrite men have presented their new old stories:

_Result Featured_

| =DEFECTIVE BABY DIES= | | | |The question whether his life should have been | |fought for or whether it was right to let him die is| |over, so far as the tiny, unnamed, six-days-old | |defective son of Mrs. Anna Bollinger is concerned. | |The child died at the German-American hospital, | |Chicago, at 7:30 last night, with Dr. H. J. | |Haiselden, chief of the hospital staff, standing | |firmly to his position that he could not use his | |science to prolong the life of so piteously | |afflicted a creature. |

_Connection with Preceding Events_

| =WILD MAN CAUGHT= | | | |The wild man who has been frightening school | |children of Yonkers, scaring hunters in the woods, | |and causing hurry calls to the police from timid | |housewives, has been captured by the reserves of the| |Second precinct. He was caught last night in Belmont| |woods, near the Empire City race track. |

_Entirely New Feature Played Up_

| =TWELVE-YEAR-OLD GIRL SUICIDE= | | | |Ruth Camilla Fisher knew a country wherein her | |beauty was specie of the realm. It was bounded by | |the ninth and twelfth birthdays. Its inhabitants | |consisted of Fritz, an adoring dachshund; "papa," | |who was a member of the school board and a great | |man; and innumerable gruff little boys, who, | |ostensibly ignorant of her observation, spat through| |vacant front teeth and turned gorgeous somersaults | |for her admiration. She was happy and the jealous | |green complexion of the feminine part of her world | |bothered her not at all. | | | |And unsuspectingly Ruth came singing across the | |borders of her ain countree to the alien land of | |knowledge and disillusionment. Though she knew she | |came from God, it was gradually borne upon her that | |her girl-mother wandered a little way on the path of| |the Magdalenes. | | | |She was an interloper who had no gospel sanction in | |the world, no visible parents other than a | |foster-father and a foster-mother. Perfectly | |respectable little girls began to inform her so with| |self-righteous airs and with the expertness of | |surgeons to dissect her from the social scheme that | |governs puss-wants-a-corner with the same iron rule | |that in later life determines who shall be asked to | |play bridge and who shall be outlawed. | | | |"Your parents aren't your own," was the taunt that | |Ruth heard from playmates. Some of the little girls | |added the poison of sympathy to the information. And| |Ruth Camilla Fisher at 12 found herself a stranger | |in a strange land. | | | |She extradited herself Tuesday night with a revolver| |shot in the temple. In the yard back of her | |foster-parents' home at 5319 West Twenty-fifth | |Street, Cicero, with one arm around the loyal Fritz,| |she put the revolver to her head and pressed the | |trigger....[48] |

[48] _Chicago Tribune_, November 25, 1915.

| =CROOK LISTS DANCERS' NAMES= | | | |The modern dance craze has brought a lot of | |informality into a heretofore very proper Chicago. | | | |Women whose husbands work during the daytime have | |considered it not at all improper to flock to the | |afternoon thé dansants in many downtown cafés, there| |to fox-trot and one-step with good-looking strangers| |whose introduction--if there was an | |introduction--was procured in a sort of professional| |way. |

_Probable Effect_

|Consequently there were about forty women in Chicago| |who verged on total collapse yesterday if they | |chanced to read of the terrible experience of Mrs. | |Mercedes Fullenwider of 5432 Kimbark Avenue. |

_Probable Motive_

| =ELSIE THOMAS NOT A SUICIDE= | | | |If a finger print can tell a story, the police may | |be able to prove by to-morrow night that pretty | |Elsie Thomas, whose lifeless body was found in her | |room at 1916 Pennsylvania Street last night, was not| |a suicide. In the opinion of her brother, Wallace | |Thomas, who was on his way from Lindale to see her, | |Hans Roehm, who had promised to marry her, may have | |been responsible for her death from cyanide of | |potassium. |

=274. Condensation in Rewrites.=--It may be added in conclusion that though rewrites are made to seem fresh and new, they are nevertheless old news after all, and hence are not worth so much space as the original story. Consequently, one will find that they usually run from half to a fourth the length of the original; so that in rewriting one need not hesitate--as the copy-readers tell the reporters--to "cut every story to the bone." One must be careful in rewriting, however, not merely to omit paragraphs in cutting down stories. Excision is not rewriting.

XIX. FEATURE STORIES

=275. What the Feature Story Is.=--The feature, or human interest, story is the newspaper man's invention for making stories of little news value interesting. The prime difference between the feature story and the normal information story we have been studying is that its news is a little less excellent and must be made good by the writer's ingenuity. The exciting informational story on the first page claims the reader's attention by reason of the very dynamic power of its tidings, but the news of the feature story must have a touch of literary rouge on its face to make it attractive. This rouge generally is an adroit appeal to the emotions, and just as some maidens otherwise plain of feature may be made attractive, even beautiful, by a cosmetic touch accentuating a pleasing feature or concealing a defect, so the human interest story may be made fascinating by centering the interest in a single emotion and drawing the attention away from the staleness, the sameness, the lack of piquancy in the details. The emotion may be love, fear, hate, regret, curiosity, humor,--no matter what, provided it is unified about, is given the tone of, that feature.

=276. Difficulty.=--But just as it takes artists among women to dare successfully the lure of the rouge-dish, and just as so many, having ventured, make of their faces mere caricatures of the beauty they have sought, so only artists can handle the feature story. The difficulty lies chiefly in the temptation to overemphasize. In striving to make the story humorous, one goes too far, oversteps the limits of dignity, and like the ten-twenty-thirty vaudeville actor, produces an effect of disgust. Or in attempting to be pathetic, to excite a sympathetic tear, one is liable to induce mere derisive laughter. And a single misplaced word or a discordant phrase, like a mouse in a Sunday-school class, will destroy the entire effect of what one would say. In no other kind of writing is restraint more needed.

=277. Two Types.=--Probably entire accuracy demands the statement that these remarks about the difficulty of the feature story apply more specifically to the human interest type, the type the purpose of which is largely to entertain. Certainly it is more difficult than the second, whose purpose is to instruct or inform. The one derives its interest from its appeal to the reader's curiosity, the other from its appeal to the emotions. The emotional type attracts the reader through its appeal to elemental instincts and feelings in men, as desire for food and life, vain grief for one lost, struggle for position in society, undeserved prosperity or misfortune, abnormal fear of death, stoicism in the face of danger, etc. The following is by Frank Ward O'Malley, of the _New York Sun_, a classic of this type of human interest story:

| =DEATH OF HAPPY GENE SHEEHAN= | | | |Mrs. Catherine Sheehan stood in the darkened parlor | |of her home at 361 West Fifteenth Street late | |yesterday afternoon, and told her version of the | |murder of her son Gene, the youthful policeman whom | |a thug named Billy Morley shot in the forehead, down| |under the Chatham Square elevated station early | |yesterday morning. Gene's mother was thankful that | |her boy hadn't killed Billy Morley before he died, | |"because," she said, "I can say honestly, even now, | |that I'd rather have Gene's dead body brought home | |to me, as it will be to-night, than to have him come| |to me and say, 'Mother, I had to kill a man this | |morning.'" | | | |"God comfort the poor wretch that killed the boy," | |the mother went on, "because he is more unhappy | |to-night than we are here. Maybe he was weak-minded | |through drink. He couldn't have known Gene or he | |wouldn't have killed him. Did they tell you at the | |Oak Street Station that the other policemen called | |Gene Happy Sheehan? Anything they told you about him| |is true, because no one would lie about him. He was | |always happy, and he was a fine-looking young man, | |and he always had to duck his helmet when he walked | |under the gas fixture in the hall, as he went out | |the door. | | | |"He was doing dance steps on the floor of the | |basement, after his dinner yesterday noon, for the | |girls--his sisters, I mean--and he stopped of a | |sudden when he saw the clock, and picked up his | |helmet. Out on the street he made pretend to arrest | |a little boy he knows, who was standing there,--to | |see Gene come, out, I suppose,--and when the little | |lad ran away laughing, I called out, 'You couldn't | |catch Willie, Gene; you're getting fat.' | | | |"'Yes, and old, mammy,' he said, him who is--who | |was--only twenty-six--'so fat,' he said, 'that I'm | |getting a new dress coat that'll make you proud when| |you see me in it, mammy.' And he went over Fifteenth| |Street whistling a tune and slapping his leg with a | |folded newspaper. And he hasn't come back. | | | |"But I saw him once after that, thank God, before he| |was shot. It's strange, isn't it, that I hunted him | |up on his beat late yesterday afternoon for the | |first time in my life? I never go around where my | |children are working or studying--one I sent through| |college with what I earned at dressmaking and some | |other little money I had, and he's now a teacher; | |and the youngest I have at college now. I don't mean| |that their father wouldn't send them if he could, | |but he's an invalid, although he's got a position | |lately that isn't too hard for him. I got Gene | |prepared for college, too, but he wanted to go right| |into an office in Wall Street. I got him in there, | |but it was too quiet and tame for him, Lord have | |mercy on his soul; and then, two years ago, he | |wanted to go on the police force, and he went. | | | |"After he went down the street yesterday I found a | |little book on a chair, a little list of the streets| |or something, that Gene had forgot. I knew how | |particular they are about such things, and I didn't | |want the boy to get in trouble, and so I threw on a | |shawl and walked over through Chambers Street toward| |the river to find him. He was standing on a corner | |some place down there near the bridge clapping time | |with his hands for a little newsy that was dancing; | |but he stopped clapping, struck, Gene did, when he | |saw me. He laughed when I handed him the little book| |and told that was why I'd searched for him, patting | |me on the shoulder when he laughed--patting me on | |the shoulder. | | | |"'It's a bad place for you here, Gene,' I said. | |'Then it must be bad for you, too, mammy,' said he; | |and as he walked to the end of his beat with me--it | |was dark then--he said, 'They're lots of crooks | |here, mother, and they know and hate me and they're | |afraid of me'--proud, he said it--'but maybe they'll| |get me some night.' He patted me on the back and | |turned and walked east toward his death. Wasn't it | |strange that Gene said that? | | | |"You know how he was killed, of course, and how--Now| |let me talk about it, children, if I want to. I | |promised you, didn't I, that I wouldn't cry any more| |or carry on? Well, it was five o'clock this morning | |when a boy rang the bell here at the house and I | |looked out the window and said, 'Is Gene dead?' 'No,| |ma'am,' answered the lad, 'but they told me to tell | |you he was hurt in a fire and is in the hospital.' | |Jerry, my other boy, had opened the door for the lad| |and was talking to him while I dressed a bit. And | |then I walked down stairs and saw Jerry standing | |silent under the gaslight, and I said again, 'Jerry,| |is Gene dead?' And he said 'Yes,' and he went out. | | | |"After a while I went down to the Oak Street Station| |myself, because I couldn't wait for Jerry to come | |back. The policemen all stopped talking when I came | |in, and then one of them told me it was against the | |rules to show me Gene at that time. But I knew the | |policeman only thought I'd break down, but I | |promised him I wouldn't carry on, and he took me | |into a room to let me see Gene. It was Gene. | | | |"I know to-day how they killed him. The poor boy | |that shot him was standing in Chatham Square arguing| |with another man when Gene told him to move on. When| |the young man wouldn't, but only answered back, Gene| |shoved him, and the young man pulled a revolver and | |shot Gene in the face, and he died before Father | |Rafferty, of St. James's, got to him, God rest his | |soul. A lot of policemen heard the shot, and they | |all came running with their pistols and clubs in | |their hands. Policeman Laux--I'll never forget his | |name or any of the others that ran to help | |Gene--came down the Bowery and ran out into the | |middle of the square where Gene lay. | | | |"When the man that shot Gene saw the policeman | |coming, he crouched down and shot at Policeman Laux,| |but, thank God, he missed him. Then policemen named | |Harrington and Rourke and Moran and Kehoe chased the| |man all around the streets there, some heading him | |off when he tried to run into that street that goes | |off at an angle--East Broadway, isn't it? A big | |crowd had come out of Chinatown now and was chasing | |the man, too, until Policemen Rourke and Kehoe got | |him backed up against a wall. When Policeman Kehoe | |came up close, the man shot his pistol right at | |Kehoe and the bullet grazed Kehoe's helmet. | | | |"All the policemen jumped at the man then, and one | |of them knocked the pistol out of his hand with a | |blow of a club. They beat him, this Billy Morley, so| |Jerry says his name is, but they had to because he | |fought so hard. They told me this evening that it | |will go hard with the unfortunate murderer, because | |Jerry says that when a man named Frank O'Hare, who | |was arrested this evening charged with stealing | |cloth or something, was being taken to headquarters,| |he told Detective Gegan that he and a one-armed man | |who answered to the description of Morley, the young| |man who killed Gene, had a drink last night in a | |saloon at Twenty-second Street and Avenue A, and | |that when the one-armed man was leaving the saloon | |he turned and said, 'Boys, I'm going out now to bang| |a guy with buttons.' | | | |"They haven't brought me Gene's body yet. Coroner | |Shrady, so my Jerry says, held Billy Morley, the | |murderer, without letting him get out on bail, and I| |suppose that in a case like this they have to do a | |lot of things before they can let me have the body | |here. If Gene only hadn't died before Father | |Rafferty got to him, I'd be happier. He didn't need | |to make his confession, you know, but it would have | |been better, wouldn't it? He wasn't bad, and he went| |to mass on Sunday without being told; and even in | |Lent, when we always say the rosary out loud in the | |dining-room every night, Gene himself said to me the| |day after Ash Wednesday, 'If you want to say the | |rosary at noon, mammy, before I go out, instead of | |at night when I can't be here, we'll do it.' | | | |"God will see that Gene's happy to-night, won't he, | |after Gene said that?" the mother asked as she | |walked out into the hallway with her black-robed | |daughters grouped behind her. "I know he will," she | |said, "and I'll--" She stopped with an arm resting | |on the banister to support her. "I--I know I | |promised you, girls," said Gene's mother, "that I'd | |try not to cry any more, but I can't help it." And | |she turned toward the wall and covered her face with| |her apron.[49] |

[49] Frank Ward O'Malley in the _New York Sun_; reprinted in _The Outlook_, lxxxvii, 527-529.

=278. Informational Type.=--The second type of feature story, the informational, is the one we find most frequently in the feature section of the editorial page and the Sunday edition. It includes such subjects as, "How to Jiu-jitsu a Holdup Man," "Why Hot Water Dissolves Things," "Duties of an International Spy," "Feminism and the Baby Crop," "Why Dogs Wag their Tails," "The World's Highest Salaried Choir Boy," etc. Stories of new inventions and discoveries, accounts of the lives of famous and infamous men, of barbaric and court life, methods for lowering the high cost of living, explanations of the workings of the parcel post system, facts telling the effects of the European war,--these are some of the kinds of news included. Timeliness is not essential, but is valuable, as in the publication of Halloween, Christmas, Easter, and vacation stories at their appropriate seasons.

=279. Sources.=--The sources of feature stories are everywhere,--on the street, in the club, at church, in the court room, on the athletic field, in reference books and government publications, in the journals of fashion, anywhere that an observing reporter will look. Old settlers and residents, particularly on their birthdays and wedding anniversaries, are good for stories of the town or state as it used to be fifty years ago; and their photographs add to the value of their stories. Travelers just returned from foreign countries or from distant sections of the United States provide good feature copy. Educational journals, forestry publications, mining statistics, geological surveys, court decisions, all furnish valuable data. The only requirement in obtaining information is personal observation and investigation.

=280. Form.=--The form of the feature story is anomalous. It has none. One is at liberty to begin in any way likely to attract the reader, and to continue in any way that will hold him. Possibly informal leads are the rule rather than the exception--leads that will arrest attention by telling enough of the story to excite curiosity without giving all the details. Note the suspensive effect of the following leads:

| =SAM DREAMS OF ROBBERS= | | | |Two big black-bearded robbers, armed to the hat-band| |and vowing to blow his appetite away from his | |personality if he uttered a tweet, walked into the | |mind of Samuel Shuster on Wednesday night as he lay | |snoring in his four-post bed at No. 11 Market | |Street. One placed a large warty hand around | |Samuel's windpipe and began to play it, and the | |other with a furtive look up and down stage reached | |into his pocket and drew forth $350. With a scream, | |two yowls, and a tiger, Samuel awoke.... |

| =FINDS WOMAN DEAD IN BARN= | | | |Stephen Garrity of 1124 Seventy-third street stepped| |into a deserted barn at Seventy-fourth street and | |Ashland avenue yesterday afternoon to get out of the| |wind and light his pipe. | | | |He was just about to apply a lighted match to the | |pipe when he saw the form of a woman hanging to one | |of the rafters. A long black silk-lined coat hung so| |that Garrity could see a black skirt, a white waist,| |and black shoes. The woman had a fair complexion and| |brown hair. | | | |The match burned Garrity's fingers and went out.... |

=281. Suspense Story.=--In some feature stories the writers attempt to hold their readers' interest by making the narrative suspensive throughout.

=282. Uniqueness of Style.=--Again, a writer will resort to uniqueness of form or style to get his effect.

=283. Unity of Impression.=--Most frequently, however, the effort is to obtain unity of impression through close adherence to a single tone or effect. The story by Frank Ward O'Malley on page 225 has already been cited as an excellent story of pathos, and the following may be examined as a portrayal of childish loyalty:

| =SILENT ABOUT BULLET IN BRAIN= | | | |A tragedy of childhood featuring the loyalty of | |10-year-old Stephen Stec to his three years younger | |brother Albert, even when he felt death near, was | |brought out at Kenosha hospital to-day. X-ray | |pictures showed that the older boy had a bullet from| |a revolver embedded to a distance of three inches in| |the brain matter.