Part II — The News Story — News writing by M. Lyle Spencer

Part II The News Story

The News Story

V. What News Is

34. Essentials of News Writing.—To write successful news stories, four requisites are necessary: the power to estimate news values properly, the stories to write, the ability to work rapidly, and the power to present facts accurately and interestingly.

35. The “Nose for News.”—Recognition of news values is put first in the tabulation of requirements for successful writing because without a “nose for news”—without the ability to recognize a story when one sees it—a reporter cannot hope to succeed. Editorial rooms all over the United States are full of stories of would-be reporters who have failed because they have not been able to recognize news. The following is a genuine first paragraph of a country correspondent’s letter to a village weekly in Tennessee:

There is no news in this settlement to speak of. We did hear of a man whose head was blown off by a boiler explosion, but we didn’t have time to learn his name. Anyhow he didn’t have any kinfolk in this country, so it don’t much matter.

Then follow the usual dull items about Henry Hawkins Sundaying in Adamsville and Tom Anderson autoing with a new girl.

36. Need of Knowing News.—The fault with this correspondent was that he did not know a good story. He lacked an intuitive knowledge of news values, and he had not been trained to recognize available news possibilities. A clear understanding of what news is, and an analysis of its more or less elusive qualities, is necessary, therefore, before one may attempt a search for it or may dare the writing of a newspaper story.

37. Definition of News.—In its final analysis, news may be defined as any accurate fact or idea that will interest a large number of readers; and of two stories the accurate one that interests the greater number of people is the better. The student should examine this definition with care as there is more in it than at first appears. Strangeness, abnormality, unexpectedness, nearness of the events, all add to the interest of a story, but none is essential. Even timeliness is not a prerequisite. If it were learned to-day that a member of the United States Senate had killed a man in 1912, the occurrence would be news and would be carried on the front page of every paper in America, even though the deed were committed years ago. And if it should transpire that Csolgosz was bribed by an American millionaire to assassinate President McKinley in 1901, the story would be good for a column in any paper. Freshness, enormity, departure from the normal, all are good and add to the value of news, but they are not essential. The only requirements are that the story shall be accurate and shall contain facts or ideas interesting to a considerable number of readers.

38. Accuracy.—The reason for emphasizing so particularly the need of accuracy in news requires little discussion. Accuracy First is the slogan of the modern newspaper. If a piece of news, no matter how thrilling, is untrue, it is worthless in the columns of a reputable journal. It is worse than worthless, because it makes the public lose confidence in the paper. And the ideal of all first-class newspapers to-day is never to be compelled to retract a published statement. This desire for accuracy does not bar a paper from publishing, for example, a rumor of the assassination of the German Crown Prince, but it does demand that the report be published only as an unverified rumor.

39. Interest.—The statement, however, that interest is the other requisite of news requires full explanation, because the demand immediately comes for an explanation of that elusive quality in news which makes it interesting. In other words, what constitutes interest? Any item of news, it may be defined, that will present a new problem, a new situation, that will provoke thought in the minds of a considerable number of readers, is interesting, and that story is most interesting which presents a new problem to the greatest number of people. It is a psychological truth that all men think only when they must. Yet they enjoy being made to think,—not too hard, but hard enough to engage their minds seriously. The first time they meet a problem they think over it, and think hard if need be. But when they meet that problem a second or a third time, they solve it automatically. A man learning to drive a car has presented to him a new problem about which he must think keenly. The steering wheel, the foot-brake, the accelerator, the brake and speed levers, the possibility of touching the wrong pedal,—all demand his undivided attention and keep him thinking every moment of the time. But having learned, having solved his problem, he can run his car without conscious thought, and meanwhile can devote his mind to problems of business or pleasure. As Professor Pitkin says:

Whatsoever we can manage through some other agency we do so manage. And, if thinking is imperative for a while, we make that while as brief as possible. The baby thinks in learning to walk, but as soon as his feet move surely he refrains from cogitation. He thinks over his speech, too, but quickly he outgrows that, transforming discourse from an intellectual performance to a reflex habit. And he never thinks about the order and choice of words again, unless they give rise to some new, unforeseen perplexity; as, for instance, they might, were he suddenly afflicted with stammering or stage fright. This is no scandal, it is a great convenience. Thanks to it, men are able to concern themselves with fresh enterprises and hence to progress. Indeed, civilization is a titanic monument to thoughtlessness, no less than to thought. The supreme triumph of mind is to dispense with itself. For what would intellect avail us, if we could not withdraw it from action in all the habitual encounters of daily life?2

40. What Provokes Thought is News.—Men apply the same principle, too, in their news reading. Whatever presents a new problem, or injects a new motive or situation into an old one, will be interesting and will be read by those readers to whom the problem or situation is new. It is not, therefore, that American men and women are interested in the sins and misfortunes of others that they read stories of crime and unhallowed love, but that such stories present new problems, new life situations, or new phases of old problems and old situations. A story of innocence and hallowed love would be just as interesting. When the newspapers of the United States make the President’s wedding the big story of the day, it is not that they think their patrons have never seen a wedding, but that a wedding under just such circumstances has never been presented before. And every published story of murder or divorce or struggle for victory offers new thought-provoking problems to newspaper readers. Men are continually searching for new situations that will present new problems. And any story that will provoke a reader’s thought will be enjoyed as news.

41. Timeliness.—But there are certain definite features that add greatly to the interest of stories. Timeliness is the first of these. Indeed, timeliness is so important in a story that one prominent writer 3 on journalism deems it an essential of a good story. Certainly it figures in ninety per cent of the published articles in our daily newspapers. The word yesterday has been relegated to the scrap heap. To-day, this morning, this afternoon should appear if possible in every story. And the divorce that was granted yesterday or the accident that happened last night must be viewed from such an angle that to-day shall appear in the write-up. Close competition and improved machinery have made freshness, timeliness, all but a requisite in every story.

42. Closeness of the Event.—Next to nearness in time comes nearness in place as a means of maintaining interest. Other things being equal, the worth of a story varies in inverse proportion to its closeness in time and place. A theft of ten dollars in one’s home town is worth more space than a theft of a thousand in a city across the continent. A visit of Mrs. Gadabit, wife of the president of our city bank, to Neighborville twenty miles away is worth more space than a trip made by Mrs. Astor to Europe. Whenever possible, the good reporter seeks to localize his story and draw it close to the everyday lives of his readers. Even an accidental acquaintance of a man in town with the noted governor or the notorious criminal who has just been brought into the public eye—with a brief quotation of the local man’s opinion of the other fellow, or how they chanced to meet,—is worth generous space in any paper. Oftentimes a resident man or woman’s opinion of a statement made by some one else, or of a problem of civic, state, or national interest, is given an important place merely by reason of the fact that the story is associated with some locally prominent person. Always the effort is made to localize the news.

43. The Search for Extremes.—Again, say what one may, the American public loves extremes in its news stories. If a pumpkin can be made the largest ever grown in one’s section, or a murder the foulest ever committed in the vicinity, or a robbery the boldest ever attempted in the block, or a race the fastest ever run on the track, or anything else the largest or the least ever registered in the community, it will be good for valuable space in the local news columns. A record breaker in anything is a new problem to the public, who will read with eager joy every detail concerning the attainment of the new record.

44. The Unusual.—The exceptional, the unusual, the abnormal is in a sense a record breaker and will be read about with zest. A burglar stealing a Bible or returning a baby’s mite box, a calf with two heads, a dog committing suicide, a husband divorcing his wife so that she may marry a man whom she loves better,—such stories belong in the list with the unique and will be found of exceptional interest to readers.

45. Contests.—The description of a contest always makes interesting news. No matter whether the struggle is between athletic teams, business men, society women, race horses, or neighboring cities, if the element of struggle for supremacy can be injected into the story, it will be read with added zest. Such stories may be found in the search of politicians for office, in the struggles of business men for control of trade or for squeezing out competitors, in contests between capital and labor, in religious factions, in collegiate rivalry, and in many of the seemingly commonplace struggles of everyday life. The individual, elementary appeal that comes from struggle is always thrilling.

46. Helplessness.—Opposed to stories depicting struggle for supremacy are those portraying the joys or the sufferings of the very old or very young, or of those who are physically or mentally unable to struggle. The joy of an aged mother because her boy remembered her birthday, the undeserved sufferings of an old man, the cry of a child in pain, the distress of a helpless animal, all are full of interest to the average reader. Helplessness, particularly in its hours of suffering or its moments of unaccustomed pleasure, compels the sympathy of everyone, and every reporter is delighted with the opportunity to write a “sob story” picturing the friendlessness and the want of such unprivileged ones. These stories not only are read with interest, but often prove a practical means of helping those in distress.

47. Prominent Persons.—Directly opposed to stories about helpless persons or animals are those of prominent men and women. For some reason news about the great, no matter how trivial, is always of interest, and varies in direct proportion to the prominence of the person. If the President of the United States drives a golf ball into a robin’s nest, if the oil king in the Middle West prefers a wig to baldness, if the millionaire automobile manufacturer never pays more than five cents for his cigars, the reading public is greatly interested in learning the fact. Nor is it essential that the reader shall have heard of the prominent man. It is sufficient that his position socially or professionally is high.

48. Well-known Places.—The same interest attaches to noted or notorious places. A news item about Reno, Nevada, is worth more than one about Rome, Georgia, though the cities are of about the same size. A street traffic regulation in New York City is copied all over the United States, notwithstanding the fact that the same law may have been passed by the city council in Winchester, Kentucky, years before and gone unnoticed. And so with Coney Island or Niagara Falls or Death Valley, or any one of a hundred other places that might be named. The fashions they originate, the ideas for which they stand sponsors, the accidents that happen in their vicinity, all have specific interest by virtue of their previous note or notoriety. And if the reporter can fix the setting of his story in such a place, he may be assured of interested readers.

49. Personal and Financial Interests.—Finally, if a news story can be found that will bear directly on the personal or financial interests of the patrons of the paper, one may be sure of its cordial reception. If turkeys take the roup six weeks before Thanksgiving, or taxes promise a drop with the new year, or pork volplanes two or three cents, or an ice famine is threatened, or styles promise coats a few inches shorter or socks a few shades greener, the readers are eager to know and will applaud the vigilance of the editors. For this reason, a reporter can often pick up an extra story—and reporters are judged by the extra stories they place on the city editor’s desk—by occasionally dropping in at markets, grocery stores, and similar business houses and inquiring casually for possible drops or rises in price. For the same reason, too, new styles as seen in the shop windows are always good for a half-column. And one cannot think of covering a dressmakers’ convention, an automobile show, a jewelers’ exhibition, or a similar gathering without playing up prominently the new styles. A clever San Francisco reporter covering a convention of insurance agents once produced a brilliant story on new styles in life insurance policies.

50. Summary.—By way of summary, then, it may be said that the only requirements of an event or an idea to make it good story material are that it be presented accurately and that it possess interest for a goodly number of readers; and any fact or idea which presents a situation or poses a problem differing, even slightly, from preceding situations or problems encountered by the readers of a paper is sure to possess interest. Timeliness is of vital worth, but is not a necessity. The geographical nearness of an event adds to its value, as does the fact that the event or the product or the result is a record breaker or is unique in its class. Contests of all sorts invariably possess interest, and stories of the helplessness of old persons, children, or animals never fail to have an emotional appeal. Any news item concerning a well-known person or place is likely to attract attention, and any story that touches the home or business interests of the public is sure to command interested readers. All these features are valuable, and any one will contribute much to the worth of a story, but none is essential. The prerequisite is that the news shall be true and shall present a new situation or problem, or a new phase of an old situation or problem.

VI. News Sources

51. Second Essential of News Writing.—As explained in the preceding chapter, the first essential in news writing is a proper appreciation of news and news values. The second essential is the possession of a story to write. This chapter will discuss news sources, leaving for Chapter III an explanation of the methods of getting stories.

52. Gathering News.—The prospective reporter who supposes that newspaper men wander aimlessly up and down the streets of a city, watching and hoping for automobiles to collide and for men to shoot their enemies, will have his eyes opened soon after entering a news office. He will learn that a reporter never leaves the city room without a definite idea of where he is going. If newspapers had to police the streets with watchers for news as the city government assigns officers of the law, the cost of gathering news would be prohibitive.

53. Police as News Gatherers.—As a matter of fact, a paper has comparatively few paid men on its staff, though it has hundreds of non-paid watchers who are just as faithful. The police are the chief of these. As every reporter knows, a policeman is compelled to make to his captain a full and prompt report of every fire, robbery, murder, accident, or mishap involving loss of, or danger to, life or property occurring on his beat. This report is made to the local precinct or station, whence it is telephoned to police headquarters. At the central station the report is recorded in the daily record book of crime, known familiarly to the public as the “blotter.” Not all of the reports recorded on the police blotter are made public, because hasty announcement of information received by the police oftentimes would forestall expected arrests; but such information as the desk sergeant is willing to utter is given out in brief bulletins, sometimes posted behind locked glass doors, sometimes simply written in a large ledger open to public inspection. Whether written in the ledger or displayed on a bulletin board, these bulletins are known always as slips, of which the following are typical examples:

Oct. 4

Suicide Attempt

Theodore Pavolovich, 24 yrs., arrested Oct. 1, 1915, fugitive, abandonment, Chicago, attempted suicide by stabbing with a fork while eating dinner. Sent to Emergency Hospital, ambulance 4. 12:50 p. m.

Conway

Oct. 4

Clothing Found

Woman’s coat, hat, and purse found on bank of Lake Michigan, foot of Pine St., 4:10 p. m. Skirt taken from water, same place, 4:30 p. m., by patrolman Heath. Clothing identified as Mrs. George Riley’s, 18 Veazy St., missing since noon. 4:40 p. m.

Nock

Oct. 18

Leg Broken

Mary Molinski, 40 yrs., single, 492 Grove St., fell down stairs, 7:05 p. m. Leg broken. Conveyed to St. Elizabeth Hospital by patrol 3. 7:30 p. m.

Pct. 3.

Oct. 19

Calf Carcass Found

Calf carcass, black and white hide, weight about 85 pounds, found at 11th and Henry Ave. 6:30 a. m.

Oper

These slips need little explanation. The name signed to each is that of the police officer reporting. The Pct. 3 signed after the third indicates merely the local precinct from which the report was made. The time at the end of each slip signifies the exact time at which the report was received at police headquarters.

54. Arrest Sheets.—In addition to the slips there are the “arrest sheets,” on which all arrests are recorded. These sheets are open always to public inspection, as the public has a right to know of every arrest, lest a man be imprisoned unjustly. On page 37 is given a verbatim reproduction of the arrests recorded in a city in the Middle West. The M or S at the top of the fifth column stands for married or single, and R and W at the top of the eighth, for read and write. The D and D charge against the second offender is drunk and disorderly. It will be noted that the cases entered after ten o’clock had not been disposed of when this sheet was copied. From these arrest sheets and the slips, as the reader may readily see, the reporter is able to get a brief but prompt and accurate account of most of the accidents and crimes within the city. And with these advance notices in his possession he can follow up the event and get all available facts.

55. Other News Gatherers.—But there are numerous other non-paid news gatherers. Doctors are required to report to the health department every birth, death, and contagious disease to which they have been called in a professional capacity. To the coroner is reported every fatal accident, suicide, murder, or suspicious death. The county clerk keeps a record of every marriage license. The recorder of deeds has a register of all sales and transfers of property. The building inspector has a full account of buildings condemned, permits granted for new buildings, and fire devices required. The leading hotels have the names of important guests visiting or passing through the city. Thus by regular visitation of certain persons and places in the city, a newspaper through its representatives, the reporters, is able to get most of the news of its neighborhood.

Name

Address

Occupation

Age

M or S

Where born

Color

R and W

Charge

Complainant

Officer

Precinct

Date

Time

Cell

Ward

Disposition

John Glass

16 Lake St.

Cook

U.S.

Yes

Vagrancy

Jacobs

Oct. 15

8:00 am

10 days
Bound over

Chas. King

124 John St.

Tailor

″

D and D

Hays

″ ″

8:30 am

Ben Loti

50 Third St.

Peddler

″

Violating Health Laws

Jones

Oper

″ ″

10:40 am

Neil Smith

38 West Ave.

Housework

″

Drunk

Hays

″ ″

10:50 am

Nick White

1630 D St.

Barber

″

Abandonment

Chief Police, Atlanta

Olson

″ ″

11:10 am

Edw. Meyer

6 Palm St.

Broker

″

Violating Speed Laws

Thiel

″ ″

3:25 pm

Jane Gray

2935 Elm St.

Housewife

″

Keeping Disorderly House

J. B. Katz

Walker

″ ″

11:10 pm

Peter Amt

66 State St.

Lineman

Ger.

″

Seduction

Vera Mann

Towne

″ ″

11:30 pm

Alex Bass

St. Louis

Butcher

U.S.

″

Fugitive

Chief Police, St. Louis

Bower

″ ″

11:45 pm

Geo. Holt

1916 4th St.

Watchman

″

Murder

Mrs. Holt

Owens

″ ″

11:50 pm

An Arrest Sheet

56. Regular News Sources.—Places that serve as news sources are known as “beats” or “runs.” The chief ones and the kinds of news found at each are:

Associated Charities Headquarters: destitution, poverty, relief work.

Boards of Trade, Brokers, Commission Men: market quotations; sales of grain, stocks, and bonds; financial outlook.

Boxing Commission: boxing permissions and regulations.

Building Department, Real Estate Dealers, Architects: new buildings, unsafe buildings.

Caterers: banquets, society dinners.

Civic Organizations: reform movements, speakers, etc.

Civil Courts: complaints, trials, decisions.

Commercial Club: business news.

Coroner’s Office: fatal accidents, murders, suicides, suspicious deaths.

County Clerk: marriage licenses, county statistics.

County Jail: arrests, crimes, executions.

Criminal Courts: arraignments, trials, verdicts.

Delicatessen Stores: banquets, society dinners.

Fire Department Headquarters: fires, fire losses, fire regulations, condemned buildings.

Florists: banquets, dinners, receptions, social functions.

Health Department: births, deaths, contagious diseases, reports on sanitation.

Hospitals: accidents, illnesses, deaths.

Hotels: important guests, banquets, dinners, social functions.

Labor Union Headquarters: labor news.

Morgue: unidentified corpses.

Police Headquarters: accidents, arrests, crimes, fires, lost and found articles, missing persons, suicides, sudden or suspicious deaths.

Political Clubs and Headquarters: county, state, and national political news.

Probate Office: estates, wills.

Public Works Department: civic improvements.

Railway Offices: new rates, general shipping news.

Referee in Bankruptcy: assignments, failures, creditors’ meetings, appointments of receivers, settlements.

Shipping Offices: departure and docking of vessels; cargoes, shipping rates, passenger lists.

Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals: arrests, complaints, animal stories.

Superintendent of Schools: educational news.

Vice Commission: arrests, complaints, raids.

57. News Runs.—These runs are distributed among the different reporters, sometimes only one, sometimes three or four to a person. On a small paper all of the runs, or all to be found in that town, may be given to one reporter, the number assigned depending upon the size of the town, the nature of the territory covered, and the willingness or unwillingness of the owners to spend money in getting news. On the larger papers, however, police headquarters generally provide work for one man alone, known as the “watcher.” In many cases he does no writing at all, but merely watches the slips and the sheets for reports and arrests, which he telephones to the city editor, who assigns other reporters to get the details and write the stories. Another reporter watches the city clerk’s office and perhaps all the other departments in the city hall, which he visits at random intervals during the day, but without such close attention to any one office as is given to police headquarters. Still another goes to the shipping offices and two or three other places which he will visit ordinarily not more than once a day. But whether he goes five times a day or only once, a reporter is held responsible for all the news occurring on his run; and if he falls short in his duty or lets some more nimble-witted reporter scoop him on the news of his beat, he had better begin making himself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness to receive him into their habitations; for a scoop, even of a few minutes, by a rival publication is the unpardonable sin with the city editor. The wise reporter never neglects any news source on his run.

58. Dark Runs.—Before we take up methods of getting stories, one other news source should be noted,—what reporters know as “dark runs,” runs that are consistently productive of news, but which must be kept “dark.” Such places are garages, delicatessen stores, florists’ shops, and similar shops providing flowers, cakes, and luxuries for private dinners and receptions. An unwritten law of trade makes it a breach of professional etiquette for a shopkeeper to tell the names of purchasers of goods, but many a proprietor, as a matter of business pride, is glad to recount the names of his patrons on Lakeside Drive and their splendid orders just given. Garage men, too, wishing it known that millionaire automobile owners patronize their shops, often are willing to tell of battered cars repaired by their men. All such sources are fertile with stories. Many a rich man’s automobile crashes into a culvert or a telegraph pole and nobody knows of it but the mechanic in the repair shop. Many a prominent club-man indulges in orgies of revelry and dissipation of which none knows but the caterer and a few chosen, non-committal friends. Many a society leader plans receptions and dinners of which the florist learns before the friends who are to be invited. And by skilfully encouraging the friendship of these tradesmen, a shrewd reporter can obtain exclusive facts about prominent persons who cannot understand, when they see their names in the morning paper, how the information was made public. These “dark runs” justify diligent attention. They produce news, and valuable is the reporter who can include successfully a number of such sources in his daily rounds.

59. Value of Wide Acquaintance.—Attention may be directed, too, to the need of deliberately cultivating friendships and acquaintances, not only on these “dark runs,” but wherever one goes—both on and off duty. In the stores, along the street, on the cars, at the club, the alert reporter gathers many an important news item. The merchant, the cabman, the preacher, the barkeeper, the patrolman, the thug, the club-man, the porter, all make valuable acquaintances, as they are able often to give one stories or clues to the solution of problems that are all but invaluable to the paper. And such facts as they present are given solely because of their interest in the reporter. One should guard zealously, however, against betraying the confidence of such friends. The reporter must distinguish the difference between publishing a story gained from a stranger by dint of shrewd interviewing, and printing the same story obtained from a fellow club-man more or less confidentially over the cigars and coffee. The stranger’s information the reporter must publish. No newspaper man has a right to suppress news obtained while on duty or to accept the confidence of anyone, if by such confidence he is precluded the right to publish certain facts. The publication or non-publication of such news is a matter for the city editor’s decision alone. But a story obtained confidentially from a friend at the club or in the home of a neighbor may not be used except with the express permission of those persons. Many a man has seen himself and his paper scooped because he was too honorable to betray the trust of his friends; but such a single scoop is worth nothing in comparison with the continued confidence of one’s friends and their later prejudiced assistance. Personal and professional integrity is a newspaper man’s first principle.

VII. Getting the Story

60. Starting for a Story.—In the preceding chapter attention was directed to news sources, to definite places for obtaining news. The reporter’s situation changes radically, however, when he is sent for a story and is told merely that somebody at Grove and Spring streets has been shot. There are four corners at Grove and Spring streets, and the shooting may have occurred, not on the corner, but at the second or third house from any one of the four corners, and maybe in a rear apartment. On such an assignment one should have on hand cards and plenty of paper and pencils. Every reporter should keep several sharp, soft lead pencils. Folded copy paper is sufficient for note-taking. The stage journalist appears always with conspicuous pencil and notebook, but the practical newspaper man displays these insignia of his profession as little as possible. A neat, engraved business card is necessary because often it is the only means of admittance to a house.

61. Use of the Telephone.—If the name of the person shot at Spring and Grove streets has been given him, the reporter may look it up in the telephone and city directories, in order to get some idea of the man and his profession. If the house has a telephone, the reporter may sometimes use this means of getting information, but this step generally is not advisable, as the telephone cannot be trusted on important stories. A person can ring off too easily if he prefers not to answer questions, and his gestures and facial expressions, emphasizing or denying the statements that his lips make, cannot be seen. The telephone is rather to be used for running down rumors and tips, for obtaining unimportant interviews, and for getting stories which the persons concerned wish to have appear in the paper. If in this case the reporter has doubts about the shooting, he may telephone to a nearby bakery or meat market to verify the rumor, but he had better not telephone the house. Let him go there in person.

62. City Maps.—If the reporter does not know the name of the individual shot or the location of Grove and Spring streets, he should consult his city map to learn precisely where he is going. If he is in a hurry, he may examine the map on his way to the car line, or while he is calling a taxi. Actually he ought to know the city so well that he need not consult a map at all (and the man whose ambition is to be a first-class reporter will soon acquire that knowledge), but to a beginner, a map is valuable.

63. Finding the Place.—Having arrived at Grove and Spring streets, the reporter should go first to the policeman on the beat. Unless the shooting is one that for some reason has been hushed up, the policeman will know all the main details. Usually, too, if approached courteously, he will be glad to point out the house and tell what he knows. If he knows nothing or pretends ignorance, the reporter must seek the house itself; nor must he be discouraged if he fails to get his information at the first, second, or third house, nor indeed after he has inquired at every door in the adjacent blocks. There are still left the neighborhood stores,—the groceries, bakeries, saloons, meat markets, and barber shops,—and maybe in the last one of these, the barber shop, a customer with his coat off, waiting for a shave, will remember that he heard somebody say a man by the name of Davis was shot “around the corner.” But he does not know what corner, or where the man lives, or his initials, or who gave him his information.

64. Regular Reports to the City Editor.—The reporter’s first step now is to go to the corner drugstore and examine the telephone and city directories for every Davis living in the neighborhood. While in the drugstore he may call up the city editor and report progress on the story. When away on an assignment there is need always of reporting regularly, particularly if one is working on an afternoon paper. Some city editors require a man to telephone every hour whether he has any news or not. A big story may break and the city editor may have nobody to handle it, or the office may have fuller information about the story which the reporter is investigating. Besides, on an afternoon paper where an edition is appearing every hour or so, every fresh detail, though small, may be of interest to readers following the story.

65. Retracing One’s Work.—If no Davises are listed in the city or telephone directories, or none of those whose names appear knows anything of the shooting, the reporter’s work of inquiry is still unfinished. He must go back to the patrolman on the beat and inquire if any person by the name of Davis has recently moved into the neighborhood,—since, for instance, the last city directory was published. Failing again, he must make once more the rounds of the houses on or near the four corners and of the neighborhood shops, inquiring in each instance for Mr. Davis. If there is a grocery store, a bakery, or a laundry in the vicinity, he must be sure to inquire there, particularly at the laundry, as the proprietors of those places are the first to get the names of newcomers in a neighborhood. The laundries must have names and addresses for deliveries, while housewives exchange gossip daily in the other places between purchases of vegetables and yeast cakes.

66. Need of Determination.—If the reporter still fails, he must not give up even yet without first resorting to every other measure that the special circumstances of the case make possible. There is never a story without some way to unearth it, and every such story is potentially a great one. A telephone message to the leading hospitals may bring results. Inquiry at the corner houses in the four adjoining blocks may disclose a Mr. Davis. Inquiry of the children skating along the sidewalk may unearth him. But in any event, the reporter must not give up until he has investigated every available clue. The city editor does not want and will not take excuses for failures to bring back stories; he wants stories.

67. Gaining Access for an Interview.—If at his last place of inquiry, perhaps from one of the skating children, the reporter learns it was not Mr. Davis at all who was shot, but Mr. Davidson, who may be found three blocks down at Spring and Grosvenor streets, his task now immediately changes to gaining access to Mr. Davidson, or to Mrs. Davidson, or to some one in the building who can give him the facts. Here is where his card may serve. If Mr. Davidson has rooms in a hotel, he may send his card up by a bellboy; if in a club, he may give it to the porter at the door. If the house at Spring and Grosvenor streets, however, is plainly one where a card would be out of place, he may simply inquire for Mr. Davidson. It is not at all improbable that Mr. Davidson was only slightly injured and one may be permitted to see him. If, however, the person answering the door states that Mr. Davidson cannot be seen, as he was injured that morning, the reporter may express his interest and inquire the cause, thus making a natural and easy step toward what newspaper men generally consider the most difficult phase of reporting,—the interview.

68. Requirements for Interviewing.—Broadly speaking, there are six requirements for successful interviewing: a pleasing presence, the ability to question judiciously, a quick perception of news even in chance remarks, a retentive memory, the power to detect falsehood readily, and the ability to single out characteristic phrases. Technically, an interview is a consultation with a man of rank for the sake of publishing his opinions. In practice, however, because the term man of rank is hazy in its inclusiveness, the word has come to mean consultation with any person for the purpose of reporting his views. And in this sense the word interview will be used in this volume.

69. A Pleasing Presence.—The first requisite for successful interviewing, a pleasing presence, must be interpreted broadly. In the term are included immaculacy of person and linen, as well as tact, courtesy, and all those qualities that make for ease of mind while conversing. Clothes may not make a man, but the lack of them will ruin a reporter. An unshaven face or a collar of yesterday’s wear will do a newspaper man so much harm in some persons’ eyes that all the shrewd questions he can ask during the interview will be of little value. Lack of tact in approaching or addressing a man will have the same unfortunate result. Many reporters think that by resorting to flattery they can induce men to talk; then they wonder why they fail. A reporter must keep in mind that the persons he interviews usually possess as keen intellects as his own and mere flattery will be quickly detected and resented.

70. Courtesy.—Above all things in his purpose to present a pleasing presence, the interviewer must possess unfailing courtesy. He must never forget that he is a gentleman, no matter what the other person may be. He cannot afford to permit himself even to become angry. Anger does not pay, for two reasons. In the first place, when a reporter loses his temper, he immediately loses his head. He becomes so absorbed in his own emotions that he cannot question shrewdly or remember clearly what is said by the man from whom he would extract information. In the second place, anger creates hostility, and a hostile man or woman not only does not willingly give information, but will be an enemy of the paper forever afterward. Always, therefore, the interviewer must be courteous, knowing that kindness begets kindness and that the other fellow, if approached rightly, will respond in the end to his own mood.

71. Asking Questions.—Concerning the second requirement for interviewing, judicious questioning, only general precepts can be given. The reporter must rely largely on himself. As a rule, however, the personal equation should be considered. Every man is interested in himself and his work, and the interviewer often may start him talking by beginning on work. The essential thing is to get some topic that will launch him into easy, natural conversation. Then, with his man started, the interviewer may well keep silent. Only a cub reporter will interrupt the natural flow of conversation for the sake merely of giving his own views. If the man runs too far afield, the reporter may guide the conversation back to the original topic; but he may well subject himself to much irrelevant talk for the sake of guiding his informer back gracefully to the topic of interest.

72. Persons Seeking Advertisement.—From the standpoint of the newspaper man, there are three classes of persons one encounters in interviewing: those who talk, those who will not, and those who do not know they are divulging secrets. Concerning the first little need be said. Such persons talk because they enjoy seeing their names in print. It is a marvel how many men and women object with seeming sincerity to their names being made public property, yet at the same time give the reporter full details for the story he wishes and hand him their cards so that he may spell their names correctly. Many such celebrities will stand for any kind of interview, so that the reporter need only determine in advance what he would have them say to make a good story. With them advertisement is so much personal gain; they are glad to accede to any sort of odd statement for the sake of possible public notice. Such persons are to be avoided; advertisements are written by the advertising manager or his helpers and fixed prices are charged.

73. Persons Refusing to Talk.—With the second and third classes, however, the interviewer must be careful, particularly with the second. Men who will not talk are usually well acquainted with the world. Sometimes they may be forced into making statements by asking them questions that will almost certainly arouse their anger and so make them speak hastily, but the reporter himself must be doubly careful in such cases to keep his own temper sweet. Oftentimes such men, particularly society criminals and others who possess an especial fear of having their wrong-doing known among their friends, try to keep from being written up by saying they are unwilling to make any kind of statement for publication, but that they will do so in court if anything is published about them. The reporter will not let such a threat daunt him. He will get the facts and present them to the city editor with the person’s hint of criminal action, then let the city editor determine the problem of publication.

74. Persons Divulging Secrets.—Frequently a person of the second class may be slyly converted into the group of those who do not know they are divulging secrets, by the reporter deliberately leading away from the topic about which he has come for an interview, then circling round to the hazardous subject when the person interviewed is off his guard. Probably the most ticklish situation in all reporting is here. To make a person tell what he knows without knowing that he is telling is the pinnacle of the art of interviewing. As Mr. Richard Harding Davis has so exactly expressed it:

Reporters become star reporters because they observe things that other people miss and because they do not let it appear that they have observed them. When the great man who is being interviewed blurts out that which is indiscreet but most important, the cub reporter says: “That’s most interesting, sir. I’ll make a note of that.” And so warns the great man into silence. But the star reporter receives the indiscreet utterance as though it bored him; and the great man does not know he has blundered until he reads of it the next morning under screaming headlines.4

It is for such reasons that a quick perception of news even in chance remarks is a requisite for interviewing. If one does not grasp instantly the value of a bit of information, the expression of his face or his actions will give him away later when a full realization of the worth of the news comes to him, or else he will not be able to recall precisely the facts given.

75. Retentive Memory.—It is for the same reason, too, that a retentive memory is necessary. Fifty per cent of those interviewed will be frightened at the sight of a notebook. And all men become cautious when they realize that their statements are being taken down word for word. The reporter must correlate properly and keep firmly in mind the facts gleaned in the interview, then get as quickly as possible to some place where he can record what he has learned. Many an interviewer will listen a half-hour without taking a note, then spend the next half-hour on a horse-block or a curb writing down what the person interviewed has said. Other reporters with shorter memories carry pencil stubs and bits of specially cut white cardboard, and while looking the interviewed man in the eye, take down statistics and characteristic phrases on the cards. Some even, as on the stage and in the moving pictures, take occasional notes on their cuffs,—all this in an effort to make the one interviewed talk unrestrainedly.

76. Use of Shorthand.—A word may be said here concerning shorthand. Its use in interviewing and in general news reports should not be too much encouraged, even when a man is entirely willing to have his exact words recorded. Often it deadens the presentation of news. Shorthand has its value as far as accuracy and record of occasional statements are concerned, and may well be used, but its too faithful use has a tendency to take from news stories the imagination that is necessary for a complete and truthful presentation. The stenographic reporter becomes so intent upon the words of the person he is quoting that he misses the spirit of the interview and is liable to produce a formal, lifeless story. The reporter may well use shorthand as a walking cane, but not as a crutch.

77. Precise Questions in Interviews.—If one finds exactness of statement a requisite, one may obtain shorthand results by bringing along a sheet of typewritten questions for submission to the person interviewed. These questions the person must answer definitely or else evade, in either case furnishing story material. But whether a reporter comes armed with such a list of questions or not, he must at least have definitely in mind the exact purpose of his visit and the precise questions he wants answered. In the majority of cases the reason that interviewers meet with such unwelcome receptions from great men is that the latter are too busy to waste time with pottering reporters. Certainly the men themselves say so. President Wilson declares that of the visitors to the White House not one in ten knows precisely why he has come, states definitely what he wants, and leaves promptly when he has finished. Such persons are an annoyance to busy men and women, and the newspaper man who can dispatch quickly the business of his visit will more likely meet with a favorable reception next time.

78. Learning a Man’s Career.—As an aid to interviewing prominent men, whether one typewrites one’s questions in advance or merely determines what in general one will ask, the reporter should have a good general knowledge of the man’s career and what he has accomplished in his particular field, so that the noted man may not be forced to go too much into detail to make his conversation clear to the interviewer. Some men seem annoyed when asked to explain technical terms or to review well-known incidents in their lives. Such facts may be obtained from the files of the morgue, from encyclopedias, from the Who’s Who volumes, and from local men associated in the same kind of work. Frequently one will find it advisable to consult the city editor and other members of the staff, as well as local or less known men, by way of preparation for interviewing a prominent visitor.

79. Ability to Detect Falsehood.—The fifth requirement for successful interviewing, and the last to be discussed in this chapter,5 is the ability to detect falsehood readily. All persons who talk for publication speak with a purpose. Sometimes they talk for self-exploitation; occasionally they wish to pay a grudge against another man. Sometimes their purpose is what they say it is; often it is not. Sometimes they tell the exact truth; frequently they do not, even when they think they are speaking truthfully. It may seem odd, but it is true that comparatively few of the persons one questions about even the most commonplace occurrences can give unbiased reports of events. They were too much excited over the affair to observe accurately, or they are too much prejudiced for or against the persons involved to witness judicially. The reporter, therefore, must take into consideration their mental caliber and every possible motive they may have for acting or speaking as they do. If the person who met the reporter a moment ago at Mr. Davidson’s door was his wife and she refused to talk about the shooting, or said he was not shot, she evidently had a motive for her statement. And if the woman next door recounts with too much relish and in too high-pitched tones the cat-and-dog life of the Davidsons or their declared intentions each of killing the other, the reporter had better take care. She is probably venting an old-time grudge against her neighbors, whose son last month broke a window-pane in her house. Countless libel suits might have been avoided had the reporters been able to detect falsehood more readily.

80. Questioning Everyone.—Because of these sharp discrepancies in men’s natures and the fact that everyone sees an event from his own individual angle, it is necessary for a reporter to question everybody in any way connected with a story. He should see not only Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, if possible, but other witnesses of the shooting, acquaintances in the neighborhood, the servants in the house, and anyone else, no matter how humble, likely in any way to be connected with or to have knowledge of the occurrence. Oftentimes a janitor, a maid, or a chauffeur will divulge facts that the mistress or the detective bureau would not disclose for large sums of money. Frequently a child in the yard or on the back steps will give invaluable information. This is particularly true when the older persons are attempting to conceal facts or are too much excited from a death or an accident to talk. Children usually are less unstrung by distressing events and can give a more connected account. Moreover, they are almost always willing to talk, and they generally try to tell the truth.

81. A Person’s Previous Record.—It is also well to inquire particularly about the past history or the previous record of the person involved. If the woman is a divorcee or the man an ex-convict, or if one of the children previously has been arraigned in police court for delinquency, or if any one of the participants has ever been drawn into public notice, such items will be worth much in identifying the characters in the story. If the man whose house is burning lost another house, well insured, a year ago; if the widow has married secretly her chauffeur two months after her husband’s sudden death from ptomaine poisoning; if the man who spoke last night was the preacher who declared all protestant churches will some day return to the confessional;—if such facts can be obtained, they will add greatly to the interest and the value of the story, and the reporter should make every effort to obtain them. Their interest lies, of course, either in the fact that they aid the public in identifying the persons, or that they provide material for interesting conjectures as to probable results. Sometimes, indeed, this correlation of present and past facts grows so important that it becomes the main story.

82. Full Details.—While questioning different persons in an attempt to get all the facts, one should take care to record all details. It is far easier to throw away unneeded material when writing up the events than to return to the scene for neglected information. In particular, one should learn the name and address of every person in any way connected with the story, no matter how much trouble it may require to get the information. A man who is merely incidental at the beginning of the inquiry may prove of prime importance an hour later or in the follow-up next day. Even the telephone number of persons likely in any way to become prominent—or where such persons may be reached by telephone—should be obtained. For, try as one will to get all the facts, one often needs to get additional information after returning to the office. In such a plight, it is of great value to know where a man may be reached who does not have a telephone in his own home. Pictures, too, of the persons concerned are valuable. The news-reading public likes illustrations, and whether the photograph is or is not used, it is easily returnable by next day’s mail. All papers promise to return photographs unharmed.

83. Getting Names Correctly.—It would seem unnecessary to urge the necessity of getting initials and street addresses and of spelling names correctly; yet so many newspaper men err here that specific attention must be directed to it. Numerous libel suits have been started because a reporter got an initial or a street address wrong and there happened to be in the city another person with the printed name and street address. Even if the story does not contain cause for libel, a person whose name has been misspelled never quite forgives a journal for getting it wrong. The reporter should remember that many of the Smiths in the world are Smythes in print and many of the Catherines spell it Katharyne in the city directory. And such persons are sensitive.

84. Speeches.—In covering speeches the reporter should make an effort to get advance copies of what the speaker intends to say,—and a photograph of him if he is an important personage. A large per cent of the impassioned and seemingly spontaneous bursts of oratory that one hears on church, lecture, and political platforms are but verbal reproductions of typewritten manuscript in the speaker’s inside coat pocket, and if the newspaper man will ask for carbon copies of the oratory, the lecturer will be glad to provide them in advance,—in order to have himself quoted correctly. He will also be glad to provide the photograph. These advance copies of speeches are called “release” stories. That is, they are marked at the top of the first page, “Release, June 12, 9:30 p.m.,” meaning that no publication shall be made of that material before 9:30 p.m. of June 12. Newspapers always regard scrupulously a release date, and a reporter need never hesitate to give his word that publication of speeches, messages, and reports will be withheld until after delivery. An editor of a paper in the Middle West once thought to scoop the world by printing the President’s message to Congress the evening before its delivery, but he was so promptly barred from the telegraphic wires thereafter that he paid dearly for his violation of professional honor. With these advance copies of speeches in his possession the reporter may write at his own convenience his account of the lecture; or if he is rushed—and has the permission of the city editor—he may even stay away from the meeting. On the other hand, if the speaker is of national importance, it may be well to consult with the city editor about going out fifty miles or more to catch the train on which the distinguished guest is coming. In this way one can have an interview ready for publication by the time the great man arrives and sometimes can obtain a valuable scoop on rival papers.

85. Attending Lectures. Where one is not able to get a typewritten copy of a speech, the only alternative is to attend the lecture. Newspaper men usually are provided with free tickets, which they should obtain in advance, as the rush of the lecture hour throws unexpected duties on those responsible for the program, and one may sometimes be considerably inconvenienced in getting an admission card. Inside there is generally a table close to the platform, where newspaper men may write comfortably. If the reporter has been given an advance copy of the speech, he should listen closely for any variations from the typewritten manuscript, as speakers in the excitement resulting from the applause or disapproval of the audience often lose their heads and make indiscreet statements or disclose state secrets that furnish the best story material for the paper next morning. If one does not have an advance copy, one should attempt to get the speech by topics, with occasional verbatim passages of particularly pithy or dynamic passages. As in the case of interviews, it is better not to attempt to take too much of the lecture word for word. The significance, the spirit of the address is of greater worth than mere literalness. If the city editor wants a verbatim report, he will send a stenographer.

86. A Newspaper Man’s Honor.—In conclusion, emphasis may be laid on the reporter’s attitude toward obtaining news. He must go after a story with the determination to get it and to get it honorably. Once he has started after an item, he must not give up until he has succeeded. But he must succeed with honor. Stories are rampant over the United States of newspaper men stealing through basement windows at night, listening at keyholes, bribing jurymen to break their oath, and otherwise transgressing the limits of law and honor. But the day of such reportorial methods has passed. To-day a newspaper expects every man on its staff to be a gentleman. It wants no lawbreakers or sneaks. Stories must be obtained honestly and written up honestly. The man who fakes a story or willfully distorts facts for the sake of injuring a man or making a good news article will be discharged from any reputable newspaper in America. And he ought to be.

VIII. Organization of the Story

87. On the Way to the Office.—The organization of the news material before beginning to write makes for speed, accuracy, and interest. On the way back to the office the reporter must employ his time as profitably as when getting the news, so that when he enters the city room he may have his facts arranged for developing into story form and may be able to hang his article on the city editor’s hook in the briefest time possible.

88. Speed.—Next to accuracy, speed is a newspaper man’s most valuable asset. Some journalists even put speed first, and Mr. Thomas Herbert Warren but voiced the opinion of many of the fraternity when he wrote,

Thrice blessed he whose statements we can trust,
But four times he who gets his news in fust.

When the reporter starts back to the office, he has in his pocket a mass of jumbled facts, most of which have a bearing on the prospective story, but many of which have not. Even those facts that are relevant are scattered confusedly among the different sheets, so that in order to write his story he must first rearrange his notes entirely. He may regroup these mentally while writing, by jumping with his eye up and down the pages, hunting on the backs of some sheets, and twisting his head sideways to get notes written crosswise on others. But all this takes valuable time,—so much, indeed, that the wise reporter will have on hand, either in his mind or on paper, a definite plan for his story.

89. Accuracy.—That the reorganization of one’s notes preparatory to writing will aid accuracy of statement and of presentation needs little argument. To paraphrase Herbert Spencer’s words on reading: A reporter has at each moment but a limited amount of mental power available. To recognize and interpret the facts recorded in his notes requires part of his power; to strike in ordered sequence the typewriter keys that will put those facts on paper requires an additional part; and only that part which remains can be used for putting his ideas into forceful, accurate sentences. Hence, the more time and attention it takes to read and understand one’s notes, the less time and attention can be given to expressing the ideas, and the less vividly will those ideas be presented. Moreover, when a writer attempts to compose from jumbled notes, because of his attention being riveted on expressing clearly and forcefully what he has jotted down, he is liable to include in his story facts that do not properly belong there, or to omit some illegibly written but important item, and so fail to present the incidents fairly and accurately.

90. Interest.—Finally, the third reason for ordering one’s notes carefully before writing is to insure interest to the reader. The same story almost always can be presented in several different ways. Every story, too, must possess a specific point, a raison d’être: as, the heinousness of the crime, the cleverness of the brigands, the loneliness of the widow. This point of the story, this angle from which the reporter writes, is determined largely by the writer’s selection of details, which in turn is dominated by the policy of the paper and the interest of the readers. If the paper and its patrons care particularly for humorous stories, certain dolorous facts are omitted or placed in unimportant positions, and the readers have a fair but amusing view of the occurrence. If they favor sob stories, the same incident, by a different selection or arrangement of details, may be made pathetic. But the reporter must select his details with such a purpose in mind. And unless he has some such definite motive and has so organized his material before beginning to write, he will present a more or less prosaic narrative of events with little specific appeal to the reader. Of course, one oftentimes is too rushed to take so much care in preparation for writing. Frequently, indeed, a reporter cannot wait until he can get back to the office, but must telephone the facts in to a rewrite man, who will put them into story form. But it is fair to say that the discerning reporter never idles away his time in the smoking compartment of the car when returning with a story. His mind is, and should be, engrossed with the story, which he should strive to make so good that it will appear on the front page of the paper.

91. Four Orders of Organization.—In organizing material for writing, one may adopt any one or a combination of four different orders: time order, space order, climactic order, complex order. Of these, probably ninety-five per cent of all the news stories published are organized on the time order or a combination of it with one or more of the other three. Of the remaining three, probably four per cent of the stories are written in the climactic order, leaving only about one per cent for the space and complex orders. Numerous articles, of course, are a combination of two or more of these orders.

92. Time Order.—The time order is a simple chronological arrangement of the incidents, as illustrated in the following:

BOY BURNS TOES IN BED

Fearing the wrath of his father, Kenneth Cavert, 5-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. George Cavert, Rankin and Franklin streets, suffered in silence while fire in his bed Friday evening painfully burned two of his toes and caused severe burns on his body.

The lad went to bed shortly after dark Friday evening. About a half-hour later he went downstairs for a drink. A few minutes later he went down again for a drink.

Shortly afterward Mr. and Mrs. Cavert smelled cloth burning in the house, and going upstairs to investigate, found the boy in bed, wide awake, the blankets in flames, which surrounded the lad and had already seared his toes. One of the bed rails was burned almost in two and the bed clothing ruined.

The lad afterward said he went downstairs to get a mouthful of water to spit on the flames. “I spit as hard as I could,” said he, “but I couldn’t put out the fire.”

Although he will not tell how the fire started, it is supposed he was playing with matches.6

93. Space Order.—The space order explains itself, being nothing else than descriptive writing. The following story of the Eastland disaster in 1915 illustrates the space order:

VICTIMS’ PROPERTY LISTED

A line of showcases extends down the center of the public hearing room on the first floor of the city hall. Arranged for display are a hundred or more cameras of all sizes, thermos bottles, purses, hand bags, and even a snare drum.

Around the room are racks on which are hanging cloaks and coats, here a red sweater, there a white corduroy cloak. Under them are heaps of hats, mostly men’s straw, obviously of this year’s make. There are several hundred women’s headgear, decorated with feathers and ribbons.

Along one side are piled suit cases and satchels, open for inspection. They are packed for departure with toothbrushes and toothpaste, packages of gum, tobacco and books. A dozen baseball bats are leaning against one of the pillars near the end of the showcase. There are several uniforms to be worn by bandmen. In the extreme corner, surrounded by hundreds of shoes, of all kinds, is a collapsible go-cart.

De Witt C. Cregier, city collector, stood behind one of the showcases yesterday afternoon, with a jeweler’s glass, examining bits of ornament.

Piled before him in long rows were envelops. One by one, he or his assistants dumped the contents on the glass case and read off descriptions of each article to a stenographer:

“One pocket mirror, picture of girl on back; one amethyst filigree pendant; one round gold embossed bracelet; gold bow eye-glasses; Hawthorne club badge attached to fob; two $1 bills.”

As the articles were listed they were put back into the envelops. Had it not been for one circumstance, it might have been a pawnshop inventory.

There was the jewelry worth more than $10,000, articles for personal use, and musical instruments. But under the long rows of coats, hats, and shoes, there was a pool of water. It dripped from the red sweater onto a straw hat beneath. It fell into shoes and the place smelled of wet leather.

When the bodies of those who perished in the Eastland disaster were removed from the water, their clothing and jewelry were taken by the police and tabulated. There was no space in the custodian’s office; so he hastily fitted up the public hearing-room, brought in showcases and had carpenters build racks for the clothing....7

94. Climactic Order.—The climactic order is that in which the incidents are so arranged that the reader shall not know the outcome until he reaches the last one or two sentences. The following story, though brief, illustrates well the climactic order of arrangement:

VALUED A DRESS ABOVE LIFE

First, there was the young man. One night, while they were on the way to a movie, Ambrosia noticed the young man was looking rather critically at her dress.

When one is 17 and lives in a big city where there are any number of girls just as good looking, besides a lot who are better looking, it is a serious matter when a young man begins to look critically at one’s dress.

Particularly is it serious when the acquisition of a new dress is a matter of much painstaking planning; of dispensing with this or that at luncheon; of walking to work every day instead of only when the weather is fine; and of other painful sacrifices.

Ambrosia didn’t say anything. She pretended she hadn’t noticed the young man’s look. But that night, in her room on East Thirteenth Street, Ambrosia indulged in some higher mathematics. It might as well be vouchsafed here that the address on East Thirteenth Street is 1315, and that Ambrosia’s name is Dallard, and that she is an operator for the Bell Telephone Company. The net result of her calculations was that, no matter how hard she saved, she wouldn’t be able to buy a new dress until December or January. Meanwhile,—but Ambrosia knew there couldn’t be any meanwhile. She had to have that dress.

Ambrosia found a card, and on it was the name of a firm which ardently assured her it wanted to afford her credit. Then there was a little something about a dollar down and a dollar a week until paid for.

So Ambrosia got her dress. It had cost her $1, and it would be entirely hers when she had paid $14 more. Ambrosia wore it to a movie and the young man admiringly informed her she “was all dolled up.” And everyone was happy.

One never can tell about dresses, though; particularly $15 ones. One night, when Ambrosia was wearing the new possession for the third time, it developed a long rip. The cloth was defective.

Ambrosia took the dress back. The installment firm was sorry, but could do nothing, and of course the firm expected her to keep paying for it.

Ambrosia left the dress, and went back to her old one. The young man noticed it the next time they went out together. Shortly afterward, when he should have called, he didn’t. A collector for the installment house did, though. Meanwhile, Ambrosia was saving to buy another dress. She was quite emphatic about the bill from the installment house—she wouldn’t pay it.

Once in awhile she saw the young man, but she didn’t care for more calls until the new dress was forthcoming.

Tuesday it looked as if everything would come out all right. She had $9 saved. Wednesday she would draw her salary—$6. She knew where she could buy just what she wanted for $12.50. It was much better looking than the old dress and better material. She even made an anticipatory engagement with the young man.

Wednesday came—Ambrosia went to draw her salary. The installment house had garnisheed it.

To-day Ambrosia’s job is being kept open by the telephone company, and it is thought some arrangement may be made by which the installment house will not garnishee her salary next week.

At the General Hospital she is reported as resting well. She was taken there in an ambulance yesterday afternoon after trying to kill herself by inhaling chloroform.8

95. Complex Order.—The complex order, sometimes called the order of increasing complication, is that in which the writer proceeds from the known to the unknown. Generally a story following this method of organization is nothing else than simple exposition. The following Associated Press story illustrates the type:

Notes

2 Short Story Writing, pp. 64-65.

3 Professor Willard Grosvenor Bleyer. See his Newspaper Writing and Editing, p. 18.

4 The Red Cross Girl, p. 7.

5 The value of characteristic phrases and gestures in the interview is discussed on page 130.

6 Appleton (Wisconsin) Daily Post, October 14, 1915.

7 Chicago Tribune, July 26, 1915.

8 Kansas City Star, January 1, 1917.

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