Aërial Torpedo Boat Invented
[By Associated Press.]
Washington, July 22.—An aërial torpedo boat for attack on ships in protected harbors is projected, it was learned to-day, in patents just issued to Rear Admiral Bradley A. Fiske, now attached to the navy war college, but formerly aid for operations to Secretary Daniels.
The plan contemplates equipping a monster aeroplane, similar to a number now under construction in this country for the British government, with a Whitehead torpedo of regulation navy type.
Swooping down at a distance of five sea miles from the object of attack, the air craft would drop its deadly passenger into the water just as it would have been launched from a destroyer. The impact sets the torpedo’s machinery in motion and it is off at a speed of more than forty knots an hour toward the enemy ship.
Admiral Fiske believes the flying torpedo boat would make it possible to attack a fleet even within a landlocked harbor. The range of the newest navy torpedoes is ten thousand yards and even the older types will be effective at seven thousand yards.
Carried on a huge aeroplane, the 2,000 pound weapon would be taken over harbor defenses at an altitude safe from gunfire. Once over the bay, the machine would glide down to within ten or twenty feet of water, the torpedo rudders would be set and it would be dropped to do its work while the aeroplane arose and sped away.9
96. Climactic Order Difficult.—Of the four organization plans, the hardest by far to develop is the climactic order, which should be avoided by young reporters. This method of arrangement is on the short-story order, and the beginner will find it difficult to group his incidents so that each shall lead up to and explain those following and at the same time add to the reader’s interest. Some papers as yet admit only rarely the story developed climactically, but it is growing in popularity and the reporter should know how to handle it.
97. Important Details.—With the climactic order of arrangement eliminated, the reporter is practically limited to the simple time order, or a combination of it with one of the other two kinds,—which is the normal type of story. But he must keep in mind one other factor,—to place the most important details first and the least important last. There are two reasons why this method of arrangement is necessary. In the first place, readers want all the main details first, so that they may learn immediately whether or not they are interested in the story and if it will be worth their while to read the whole article. They are too busy to read everything in the paper; they can choose only those stories that excite their interest. If, therefore, they can learn in the first paragraph what the whole story is about, they will not be delayed and fatigued unnecessarily by reading non-essentials with the hope of finding something worth while.
98. Unimportant Details.—The second reason for such an organization is that stories appearing in the early editions have to be cut down to fit into the more valuable and limited space of the later issues. At the beginning of the day news is relatively scarce, and the front-page, left-hand column of the first edition may carry a story that will be cut in half in the city edition and be relegated to an inside page. More important news has come in as the day has aged. A reporter, therefore, must plan his stories with a view to having the last part, if necessary, cut off,—so that, indeed, if the news editor should prune the story down to only the first paragraph, the reader would still be given the gist of what has happened. Note the following story, how it may be cut off at any paragraph and still present a perfect, though less imposing whole:
SCHOOLBOY SUES BRIDE, AGED 40
Villisca, Ia., Dec. 27.—Claude Bates, 17 years old and formerly of Villisca, has brought suit in Polk county for the annulment of his marriage to the widow Patrick, 40 years old and the mother of four children, two of whom are older than their stepfather.
Bates is still in school, and became acquainted with the widow when he went to her home to call on one of her daughters. According to the petition, young Bates made such a hit with the mother of his best girl that she herself fell in love with him, and was soon a rival of her own daughter. The older woman knew many tricks with which the daughter was unacquainted, and in the end she managed to “bag” the game.
The marriage, which took place in Chicago, was kept a secret even after the couple returned home, and it was not until young Bates told the whole story to his mamma a few days ago that his family had an inkling of the true state of affairs. Now the suit has been filed by the boy’s mother, because the young husband himself is too young to go into court without a guardian.
As one of the causes of the suit, the petition cites that Bates was inveigled into the marriage through “the wiles, artifices, and protestations of love” on the part of the widow. Furthermore, the petition charges that the two were married under assumed names, that their ages were falsely given, and that their residences, as given the marriage clerk, were false.
According to the petition, young Bates was attending school, where he met Mrs. Patrick’s daughter and fell in love with her. He called at the house and met the mother, who was divorced from her first husband some ten years ago. There were four of the Patrick children, their ages being 13, 15, 17, and 20 years. Bates himself was just 15 at that time. The petition sets up that almost immediately after becoming acquainted with Mrs. Patrick the latter began her attempts to induce young Bates to marry her.10
99. Accuracy of Presentation.—One very definite caution must be given concerning the organization of the story,—the necessity of presenting facts with judicial impartiality. When the reporter is arranging his material preparatory to writing, casting away a note here and jotting down another there, he can easily warp the whole narrative by an unfair arrangement of details or a prejudiced point of view. Frequently a story may be woefully distorted by the mere suppression of a single fact. A newspaper man has no right willfully to keep back information or to distort news. Unbiased stories, or stories as nearly unbiased as possible, are what newspapers want. And while one may legitimately order one’s topics to produce a particular effect of humor, pathos, joy, or sorrow, one should never allow the desire for an effect to distort the presentation of the facts.
IX. The Lead11
100. Instructions from the City Editor.—Before beginning the story, the reporter should stop at the city editor’s desk, give him in as few words as possible an account of what he has learned, and ask for instructions about handling the story, about any feature or features to play up. The city editor may not offer any advice at all, may simply say to write the story for what it is worth. In such a case, the reporter is at liberty to go ahead as he has planned; and he should have his copy on the city editor’s desk within a very few minutes. The city editor, however, may tell him to feature a certain incident and to write it up humorously. If the reporter has observed keenly, he himself will already have chosen the same incident and may still proceed with the writing as he planned on the way back to the office. A careful study of instructions given reporters will quickly convince one, however, that in nine cases out of ten the city editor takes his cue from the reporter himself, that in the reporter’s very mood and method of recounting what he has learned, he suggests to the city editor the features and the tone of the story, and is merely given back his own opinion verified. Not always is this the case, however. One reporter on a Southern daily—and a star man, too—used to say that he could never predict what his city editor would want featured. So he used always to come into the office armed with two leads, and sometimes with three.
101. Two Kinds of Leads.—The story, technically, is [A]made up of two parts—the lead and the body. The lead is easily the more important. If a reporter can handle successfully this part of the story, he will have little trouble in writing the whole. The lead is the first sentence or the first group of sentences in the story and is of two kinds, the summarizing lead and what may be called the informal lead. The summarizing lead gives in interesting, concise language the gist of the story. The informal lead merely introduces the reader to the story without intimating anything of the outcome, but with a suggestion that something interesting is coming. Of the two types the summarizing lead is by far the more common and may be considered first.
102. Summarizing Lead.—The summarizing lead may be a single sentence or a single paragraph, or two or three paragraphs, according to the number and complexity of the details in the story. A brief story usually has a short lead. A long, involved story made up of several parts, each under a separate head, often has a lead consisting of several paragraphs. Sometimes this lead, because of its importance as a summary of all the details in the story, is even boxed and printed in black-face type at the beginning of the story. Then follow the different parts, each division with its own individual lead.
103. Contents of the Lead.—What to put into the lead,—or to feature, as reporters express it in newspaper parlance,—one may best determine by asking oneself what in the story is likely to be of greatest interest to one’s readers in general. Whatever that feature is, it should be played up in the lead. The first and great commandment in news writing is that the story begin with the most important fact and give all the essential details first. These details are generally summarized in the questions who, what, when, where, why, and how. If the writer sees that his lead answers these questions, he may be positive that, so far as context is concerned, his lead will be good.
104. Construction of the Lead.—In constructing the lead, the most important fact or facts should be put at the very first. For this reason, newspaper men avoid beginning a story with to-day, to-morrow, or yesterday, because the time at which an incident has occurred is rarely the most important fact. For the same reason, careful writers avoid starting with the, an, or a, though it often is necessary to begin with these articles because the noun they modify is itself important. The name of the place, too, rarely ever is of enough importance to be put first. An examination of a large number of leads in the best newspapers shows that the features most often played up are the result and the cause or motive. Thus:
Result
As a result of too much thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Day, Prof. Harry Z. Buith, 42, 488 Sixteenth Street, a prominent Seventh Day Adventist, is dead.
Cause
Just plain ordinary geese and a few ganders held up a train on the Milwaukee road to-day and forced their owner, Nepomcyk Kucharski, 1287 Fourth Avenue, into district court.
Cause and Result
Because Harry A. Harries, 24, 2518 North Avenue, wanted two dollars for a license to marry Anna Francis, 17, 4042 Peachtree Avenue, his aged mother is dying this morning in St. Elizabeth Hospital.
Sometimes, particularly in follow or rewrite stories, probable results become the feature.
Probable Results
That immediate intervention in Mexico by the United States will be the result of the Villa raid last night on Columbus, N.M., is the general belief in official Washington this morning.
Another feature often played up in leads is the means or method by which a result was attained.
Means
A sensational half-mashie shot to the lip of the cup on the eighteenth green won to-day for Mrs. Roland H. Barlow, of the Merion Cricket Club, Philadelphia, over Miss Lillian B. Hyde, of the South Shore Field Club, Long Island, in the second round of the women’s national golf championship tournament at the Onwentsia Club.
Method
Working at night with a tin spoon and a wire nail, Capt. Wilhelm Schuettler dug 100 feet to liberty and escaped from the Hallamshire camp sometime early this morning.
Often it is necessary to feature the name:
Name
Cardinal Giacomo della Chiesa, archbishop of Bologna, Italy, was to-day elected supreme pontiff of the Catholic hierarchy, in succession to the late Pope Pius X, who died Aug. 20. He will reign under the name of Benedict XV.
Name
President Wilson and Mrs. Norman Galt have selected Saturday, Dec. 18, as the date of their marriage. The ceremony will be performed in Mrs. Galt’s residence, and the guests will be confined to the immediate members of the President’s and Mrs. Galt’s families.
Even the place and the time have to be featured occasionally.
Place
New Orleans will be the place of the annual meeting of the Southern Congress of Education and Industry, it was learned from a member of the Executive committee to-day.
Place
Chicago was selected by the Republican National committee to-night as the meeting place of the 1916 Republican national convention, to be held June 7, one week before the Democratic convention in St. Louis.
Time
Monday, Sept. 20, is the date finally set for the opening of the State Fair, it was announced by the Program Committee to-day.
105. Form of the Lead.—The grammatical form in which the lead shall be written depends much on the purpose of the writer. Some of the commonest types of beginnings are with: (1) a simple statement; (2) a series of simple statements; (3) a conditional clause; (4) a substantive clause; (5) an infinitive phrase; (6) a participial phrase; (7) a prepositional phrase; (8) the absolute construction.
106. Leads with Short Sentences.—The value of the first two kinds is their forcefulness. Often reporters break what might be a long, one-sentence, summarizing lead into a very short sentence followed by a long one, or into a number of brief sentences, each of which gives one important detail. Such a type of lead gains its force from the fact that it lends emphasis to the individual details given in the short sentences. Note the effect of the following leads:
Oak Park Has a “Typhoid Mary”
The epidemic of fever that has been sweeping through the western suburb since the high school banquet more than a month ago was traced yesterday to a woman carrier who handled the food in the school restaurant.
George Edward Waddell, our famous “Rube,” fanned out to-day. It was not the first time Rube had fanned, but it will be his last. Tuberculosis claimed him after a two-year fight.
If Mrs. Mary McCormick sneezes or coughs, she will die. Her back was broken yesterday by a fall from a third-story window. Thomas Wilson is being held under a $5,000 bond pending her death or recovery, charged by the police with pushing her from the window.
107. Lead Beginning with a Conditional Clause—The lead beginning with a conditional clause is valuable for humorous effects or for summarizing facts leading up to a story. As a rule, however, one must avoid using more than two such clauses, as they are liable to make the sentence heavy or obscure.
If Antony Fisher, 36, 1946 Garden Street, had not written Dorothy Clemens she was a “little love,” he would be worth $1,000,000 now. But he wrote Dorothy she was a little love.
If Joe Kasamowitz, 4236 Queen’s Avenue, speaks to his wife either at her home or at the news-stand she conducts at the St. Paul Hotel; if he loiters near the entrance to the hotel; or if he even attempts to call his wife over the telephone before Saturday, he will be in contempt of court, according to an injunction issued to-day by Judge Fish.
108. Lead Beginning with a Substantive Clause.—The substantive clause has two main values in the lead,—to enable the writer to begin with a direct or an indirect question, and to permit him to shift to the very beginning of the lead important ideas that would normally come at the end of the sentence.
That Jim Jeffries was the greatest fighter in the history of pugilism and Jim Corbett the best boxer, was the statement last night by Bob Fitzsimmons before a crowd of 5,000 at the Orpheum theater.
That he had refused to kiss her on her return from a long visit and had said he was tired of being married, was the testimony of Mrs. Flora Eastman to-day in her divorce suit against Edwin O. Eastman, of St. Louis.
109. Lead Beginning with a Phrase.—Infinitive, participial, and prepositional phrases are valuable mainly for bringing out emphatic details. But the writer must be careful, particularly in participial constructions, to see that the phrases have definite words to modify.
To see if the bullet was coming was the reason Charlie Roberts, aged 7, 2626 Ninth Street, looked down his father’s pistol barrel at 8:00 a.m. to-day.
Playing with a rifle longer than his body, three-year-old Ernest Rodriguez, of Los Angeles, accidentally shot himself in the abdomen this morning and is dying in the county hospital.
Almost blinded with carbolic acid, Fritz Storungot, of South Haven, groped his way to Patrolman Emil Schulz at Third Street and Brand Avenue last night and begged to be sent to the Emergency Hospital.
With her hands and feet tied, Ida Elionsky, 16, swam in the roughest kind of water through Hell Gate yesterday, landing safely at Blackwell’s Island.
110. Lead Beginning with Absolute Construction.—The absolute construction usually features causes and motives forcibly, but it should be avoided by beginners, as it is un-English and tends to make sentences unwieldy. The following illustrates the construction well:
Her money gone and her baby starving, Mrs. Kate Allen, 8 Marvin Alley, begged fifteen cents of a stranger yesterday to poison herself and child.
111. Accuracy and Interest in the Lead.—The two requirements made of the lead are that it shall possess accuracy and interest. It must have accuracy for the sake of truth. It must possess interest to lure the reader to a perusal of the story. Toward an attainment of both these requirements the reporter will have made the first step if he has organized his material rightly, putting at the beginning those facts that will be of most interest to his readers.
112. Clearness.—But the reporter will still fail of his purpose if he neglects to make his lead clear. He must guard against any construction or the inclusion of any detail that is liable to blur the absolute clarity of his initial sentences. In particular, he must be wary of overloaded leads, those crowded with details. It is better to cut such leads into two or more short, crisp sentences than to permit them to be published with the possibility of not being understood. If a reader cannot grasp readily the lead, the chances are nine out of ten that he will not read the story. Note the following overloaded lead and its improvement by being cut into three sentences:
Barely able to see out of her swollen and discolored eyes, and her face and body covered with cuts and bruises, received, it is alleged, when her father attacked her because of her failure to secure work, Mary Ellis, 15 years old, living at 1864 Brown Street, when placed on the witness stand Monday, told a story which resulted in Peter Ellis, her father, being arrested on a charge of assault with intent to do great bodily harm.
Charged with beating unmercifully his daughter, Mary, 15, because she could not obtain work, Peter Ellis, 1864 Brown Street, was arraigned in police court Monday. The girl herself appeared against Ellis. Her body, when she appeared on the witness stand, was covered with cuts and bruises, her face black from the alleged blows, and her eyes so much swollen that she could hardly see.
The following lead, too, is overloaded and all but impossible to understand:
Two letters written by H. M. Boynton, an advertising agent for the Allen-Procter Co., to “Dear Louise,” in which he confessed undying love and which are replete with such terms of endearment as “little love,” “dear beloved,” “sweetheart,” “honey,” and just plain “love,” and which were alleged by him to have been forged by his wife, Mrs. Hannah Benson Boynton, obtained a divorce for her yesterday in district court on the grounds of alienated affections.
Few readers would wade through this maze of shifted constructions and heavy, awkward phrasing for the sake of the divorce story following. In the following form, however, it readily becomes clear:
Two love letters to “Dear Louise” cost H. M. Boynton, advertising agent for the Allen-Procter Co., a wife yesterday in district court. The letters were produced by Mrs. Hannah Benson Boynton to support her charge of alienated affections, and were replete with such terms of endearment as “undying love,” “honey,” “sweetheart,” “dear beloved,” “little love,” and just plain “love.” Boynton claimed that the letters were forged.
113. Boxed Summaries and Features.—When a story is unusually long and complicated and the number of details numerous, or when important points or facts need particular emphasis, it is customary to make a digest of the principal items and box them in display type before the regular lead. Boxed summaries at the beginning of a story are really determined by the city editor and the copy readers, but a grouping of the outstanding facts for boxing is often a welcome suggestion and a valuable help to the sub-editors. If the reporter is in doubt about the need of a boxed summary, he may make it on a separate sheet and place it on the city editor’s desk along with the regular story. Types of stories that most frequently have boxed summaries are accidents, with lists of the dead and the injured in bold-face type; important athletic and sporting events, with summaries of the records, the crowds in attendance, the gate receipts, etc.; speeches, trials, and executions, with epigrams and the most important utterances of the judges, lawyers, witnesses, or defendants; international diplomatic letters, with the main points of discussion or most threatening statements; lengthy governmental reports, etc. An illustration of the boxed summary is the following, featuring the last statement of Charles Becker, the New York police lieutenant, electrocuted in 1915 for the death of Herman Rosenthal:
POLICE OFFICER PAYS PENALTY WITH HIS LIFE
“MY DYING STATEMENT.”
“Gentlemen: I stand before you in my full senses, knowing that no power on earth can save me from the grave that is to receive me. In the face of that, in the face of those who condemn me, and in the presence of my God and your God, I proclaim my absolute innocence of the foul crime for which I must die.
“You are now about to witness my destruction by the state which is organized to protect the lives of the innocent. May almighty God pardon everyone who has contributed in any degree to my untimely death. And now on the brink of my grave, I declare to the world that I am proud to have been the husband of the purest, noblest woman that ever lived,—Helen Becker.
“This acknowledgment is the only legacy I can leave her. I bid you all good-bye. Father, I am ready to go. Amen.”
“CHARLES BECKER.”
Ossining, N. Y., July 30.—At peace with his Maker, a prayer on his lips, but with never a faltering of his iron will, Charles Becker expiated the murder of Herman Rosenthal at 5:55 this morning. Pinned on his shirt above his heart, he carried with him the picture of his devoted wife. In his hand he clutched the crucifix.
The death current cut off in his throat the whisper, “Jesus have mercy.” It was not the plea of a man shaken and fearful of death, but rather the prayer of one with the conviction that he was innocent.
Just before he entered the death chamber he declared to Father Curry, “I am not guilty by deeds, conspiracy or any other way of the death of Rosenthal. I am sacrificed for my friends.” Previously at 4 a.m. he issued “My Dying Statement.” It was a passionate reiteration of innocence, and is left as his only legacy to his wife: “I declare to the world that I am proud to have been the husband of the purest, noblest woman that ever lived,—Helen Becker.”
Absolute quiet reigned in the death house at 5.50 a.m. Suddenly the little green door swung open. Becker appeared. He had no air of bravado. Behind him in the procession came Fathers Cashin and Curry. Becker walked unassisted to the death chamber. As he entered he glanced about, seemingly surprised. His face had the expression of a person coming from darkness into sudden light, but there was no hint of hesitancy to meet death in the stride with which he approached the chair which had already claimed the lives of four others in payment for the Rosenthal murder.
The doomed man held a black crucifix in his left hand. It was about ten inches long, and as he calmly took his place in the chair, he raised it to his lips. Following the chant of the priests, he entoned, “Oh, Lord, assist me in my last agony. I give you my heart and my soul.”
When all was ready, the executioner stepped back and in full view of the witnesses calmly shut the switch. As the great current of electricity shot into the frame of the former master of gunmen, the big body straightened out, tugging at the creaking straps. For a few moments it stretched out. A slight sizzling was heard and a slight curl of smoke went up from the right side of Becker’s head, rising from under the cap. When the shock was at its height, his grip tightened to the crucifix, but as the electrocutioner snapped the switch off the cross slipped from the relaxed fingers. A guard caught it. The whole body dropped to a position of utter collapse.
Becker’s shirt was then opened. As the black cloth was turned back to make way for the stethoscope, the picture of Mrs. Becker was revealed. It was pinned inside. The doctors pushed it aside impatiently, evidently not knowing what it was. They held stethoscopes to the heart. Another shock was demanded of the cool young executioner. He stepped back and swung the switch open and shut again. The crumpled body clutched the straps again. Once more the doctors felt his heart. They seemed to argue whether there was still evidence of life. Once again the executioner was appealed to and once again he snapped on and off the switch. The lips then parted in a smile. The stethoscope was applied and it was declared that Becker was dead....12
114. Informal Lead.—The opposite of the summarizing lead is the informal, or suspense, lead. This type begins with a question, a bit of verse, a startling quotation, or one or two manifestly unimportant details that tell little and yet whet the appetite of the reader, luring him to the real point of interest later in the story. Such leads, sometimes known as “human interest” leads, are admittedly more difficult than those of the summarizing type, their difficulty being but one effect of the cause which makes them necessary. An examination of a large number of these leads shows that their purpose is to make attractive news that for some cause is lacking in interest. Most frequently the news is old; often it is merely commonplace; or possibly it may have come from such a distance that it lacks local interest. In such cases the aid of the informal lead is invoked for the purpose of stimulating the reader’s interest and inducing him to read the whole story. And this explains the difficulty of the informal lead. Its originality must compensate for the poverty of the news it presents. It must be more attractive, more striking, more piquant than the ordinary lead. And the only ways of obtaining this attractiveness, this piquancy, are by novelty of approach and of statement.13
115. Question Lead.—A few illustrations of informal leads will make clearer their exact nature. First may be cited the question lead, two examples of which are given below, with enough of the story appended in each case to show the method of enticing the reader into the story.
How long can the war last?
It’s a fool question, because there is no certain answer. But when there is an unanswerable question, it is the custom to look up precedents. Here are a few precedents....
If you planned to wed in September and married in July just to suit your own convenience, would you be provoked if your dear neighbors immediately seated themselves and wove a beautiful romance out of it?
Grace Elliott Bomarie, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Elliott Bomarie, of 930 Lawrence Avenue, and sister of Bessie Bomarie, former famous champion golf player, was not angry to-day. Instead she laughed the merriest kind of a laugh over the telephone and said:
“Call me up in half an hour and I will tell you all about it.”
But she didn’t. On the recall (that’s the proper word in this day of equal suffrage), she was not at home. Mrs. Bomarie was, and said:
“Please just say that Mr. and Mrs. Charles Elliott Bomarie announce the marriage of their daughter, Grace Elliott, to Mr. Albert Wingate.”
116. Verse Lead.—The lead beginning with a bit of verse is more difficult than the question lead because of the uncertainty with which most persons write metrical lines. The following may serve as a fairly successful attempt:
U. S. JACKIES WANT MAIL
Perhaps you’ve seen a jolly tar
A-pushing at the capstan bar
Or swabbing off the deck,
And figured that a life of ease
Attends the jackie on the seas
Who draws a U. S. check.
His lot, it seems, is not quite so;
Just hear this plaintive plea of woe
That comes from off the Buffalo.
The sailors rise to raise a wail
Because they say they get no mail.
Will some Milwaukee misses in their spare moments do Uncle Sam a favor by writing letters to cheer up some of his downhearted nephews in the navy?
The boys are just pining away from lonesomeness, owing to the fact that no one writes to them. At least this is the sorrowful plea of G. H. Jones, a sailor aboard the U. S. S. Buffalo, who writes The Sentinel from San Francisco as follows:
Girls—Why not use some of your idle moments in writing to us? I have been in the navy five years and have never received any mail. G. H. Jones, U. S. S. Buffalo, San Francisco, Cal.14
117. Extraordinary Statement in Lead.—An extraordinary statement made by a person in a speech, an interview, or a trial scene is often used in the informal lead. If, however, the quoted statement is so long or of such a nature that it summarizes the whole story, it places the lead, of course, not in the informal class, but in the normal summarizing group. The following illustrates well the extraordinary statement:
FRIEND WIFE WENT TOO FAR
Mr. David Elliott,
Chicago.
Sir:
You can go to the d——l, and the quicker the better.
Sincerely,
Your Wife.
This is the letter in which David Elliot thinks his wife “went too far.” He produced it before Judge David Matchett Saturday in a suit for divorce.
118. Suspense Lead.—The most difficult to handle of all the informal leads is the suspense lead, where the writer purposely begins with unimportant but enticing details and lures the reader on from paragraph to paragraph, always holding out a half-promise of something worth while if one will continue a bit further. In this way the reader is tempted to the middle or end of the story before he is told the real point of the article. A difficult type of lead, this, but forceful when well handled.
Pierre L. Corbin, 60 years old, of Eatontown, who runs a dairy and drives his own milk wagon, matched the speed of his horse against that of a New Jersey Central train yesterday morning at 7 o’clock in a race to the crossing at Eatontown. It was a tie. Both got there at the same time.15
There are two ways of patching a pair of trousers,—neatly and bluey; and probably no tailor in Manhattan is as certain of it to-day as Sigmund Steinbern. So he stated to the police yesterday when a customer sat him down on his lighted gas stove, and so he insisted last night when friends called to see him at the Washington Heights Hospital. Furthermore, to say nothing of moreover, he is a tailor of standing, or will be for the next couple of weeks, and he knows his place. It is not, he feels, upon a gas stove.
To friends who called at the hospital to ask Mr. Steinbern exactly what had happened to him, he said, by way of changing the subject, that he has a sign in his store upon which the following appears:
Everything Done in a Hurry
There, he contends, lies the seed of the trouble. Regarding the seat of the trouble, more anon....16
119. Tone.—No matter which of the two types of lead one uses, whether the summarizing or the informal, one point further needs attention in the writing,—the value of constructing such a lead as will suggest the tone of the story. Half the leads that one reads in the daily papers do not possess this touchstone of superiority, but all the leads to the big stories have it. If the article is to be pathetic, tragic, humorous, mildly satirical, the lead should suggest it; and the reporter will find that in proportion as he is able to imbue his lead with the story-tone he aims at in his writing, so will be the success of his story. This topic is discussed further in the next chapter, but the reader may consider at this point the two following leads, in which one plainly promises a story of pathos and tragedy; the other, half-serious humor:
DIED—Claus, Santa, in the American Hospital, Christmas morning, aged 11.
Santa Claus, who wasn’t such an old fellow after all, overslept on the great morning. He had gone to bed plain Vern Olson—not in a toy shop at the North Pole, but in a little room behind his widowed mother’s delicatessen shop at 111 South Robey Street.
The cause of the high cost of living has been discovered. It’s pie,—plain pie. Teeny Terss, who runs a Greek restaurant on Hodel Street, made the announcement to-day.
120. Conclusion.—Of the two types of lead, the beginner is advised to attempt at first only the summary lead, relying on the excellence of the news to carry the story. This kind of lead is definite. A reporter always can know when his lead answers the questions who, what, when, where, why, and how. And if he has presented his facts clearly in the lead, he may feel a certain degree of assurance that he has been successful. In writing the informal lead, on the contrary, one can never be positive of anything or of any effect. (And it is a particular effect for which the reporter always must strive in the informal lead.) Climax and suspense are such elusive spirits that if a writer but give evidence he is seeking them, he immediately loses them. The only safe plan for the novice, therefore, is to confine himself at first exclusively to the summarizing lead. Then as his hand becomes sure, he may take ventures with the elusive, informal, or suspense, lead.
X. The Body of the Story
121. Inaccuracy and Dullness.—If the reporter has written a strong lead for his story, he need have small worry about what shall follow, which usually is little more than a simple narration of events in chronological order, with interspersions of explanation or description. If a wise choice and arrangement has been made in the organization of details, the part of the story following the lead will all but tell itself. The reporter’s care now must be to maintain the interest he has developed in the lead and to regard the accuracy of succeeding statements. There are just two crimes of which a newspaper man may be guilty,—inaccuracy and dullness. And the greater of these is inaccuracy.
122. Accuracy.—When a reporter is publishing a choice bit of scandal or a remarkable instance of disregarded duty, it is an easy thing, for the sake of making the story a good one, or for lack of complete information, to draw on the imagination or to jump too readily at conclusions, and so present as facts not only what may be untrue, but what often later proves entirely false. The ease of the thing is argued by the frequency with which it is done. Such a reporter does a threefold harm: he compels his paper to humiliate itself later by publishing the truth; he causes the public to lose confidence in his journal; and he does irreparable injury to unknown, innocent persons. The day following the Eastland disaster in 1915, one Chicago paper ran the list of dead up to eighteen hundred. A week later the same paper was forced to put the number at less than nine hundred. A rival publication in the same city kept its estimate consistently in the neighborhood of nine hundred, with the resultant effect to-day of increased public confidence in its statements. In another city of the Middle West judgment for $10,000 has recently been granted a complainant because one of the city staff made a rash statement about the plaintiff’s “illicit love.” The reporter was discharged, of course, but that did not repair the damage or reimburse the paper.
123. Law of Libel.—Every newspaper man, as a matter of business, should know the law of libel. It varies somewhat in different states, but the following brief summary may be taken as a working basis until the reporter can gain an opportunity to study it in his own state. In the first place, the law holds responsible not only the owners of the journal, but the publisher, the editor, the writer of the offending article, and even any persons selling the paper, provided it can be proved that they were aware of the matter contained in the publication. What constitutes libel is equally far-reaching. It is any published matter that tends to disgrace or degrade a person generally, or to subject him to public distrust, ridicule, or contempt. Any written article that implies or may be generally understood to imply reproach, dishonesty, scandal, or ridicule of or against a person, or which tends to subject such a person to social disgrace, public distrust, hatred, ridicule, or contempt, is libelous. Even the use in an article of ironical or sarcastic terms indicating scorn or contempt is libelous, because such expressions are calculated to injure the persons of whom they are spoken. And if an article contains several expressions, each of which is libelous, each may be a separate cause for legal action. Nor is it a defense to prove that such rumors were current, that such statements were previously published, or even that the writer did not intend the remarks to do injury. If it can be proved that the article has done injury, the writer and his paper are guilty of libel and must pay damages in accordance with the enormity of the offense.
124. Avoidance of Libel.—When it becomes necessary to make a statement about a person that may be unpleasing to him, the writer should give the name of the one making the charge or assertion, or else avoid making a specific charge by inserting it is alleged, it is rumored, it is charged, or some such limiting phrase. Note the following story of the arrest of two shop-girls and how skilfully the reporter avoids charging them with theft:
CHARGE TWO WITH SHOPLIFTING
Edna K. Whitter and Minnie Jensen, saleswomen in a New Haven store, are under arrest charged with shoplifting.
The former is said to have confessed after goods valued at more than $1,000 were found in her room. She is said to have implicated Miss Jensen, who denies the charge.
Desire to dress elaborately is alleged to have caused the young women to steal. Miss Jensen is the daughter of a farmer. Investigations by detectives, it is said, may result in more arrests....
Whenever possible, it is well to avoid it is said, it is rumored. A story reads more convincingly when the reporter’s authority is given. And the statement of the authority places the responsibility where it belongs.
125. Exaggeration.—One word further about the Eastland disaster and loss of public confidence resulting from exaggerated stories. Upon the news article itself there is a very definite effect of such exaggeration,—that mere extravagance of statement often defeats its own end. It is of first importance in writing that one’s statements command the confidence of the reader. If a reporter writes that the wreck he has just visited was the greatest in the history of railroading, or the bride the most beautiful ever joined in the bonds of holy wedlock before a hymeneal altar, or the flames the most lurid that ever lit a midnight sky, the reader merely snickers and turns to a story he can believe. The value of understatement cannot be overestimated. Probably the majority of the people of the United States are suspicious anyway of the truth of what they read in the newspapers. Hence, if one must sin on the side of accurate valuation of news, let him err in favor of understatement rather than exaggeration. Then when he is forced by actual facts to resort to huge figures, his readers will believe him. Such a policy, consistently adhered to, will always win favor for a paper and a reporter. And that the best papers have learned this is proved by the fact that they no longer tolerate inaccuracy of statement or unverified information in their columns.
126. “Editorializing.”—One other caution must be given in the cause of accuracy, that of the necessity of presenting news from an unbiased standpoint, of eliminating as far as possible the personal equation,—in other words, of avoiding “editorializing.” The news columns are the place for the colorless presentation of news. No attempt is, or should be, made there to influence public opinion. That function is reserved for the editorial columns, and the reporter must be careful not to let his personal views color the articles he writes. The following story was written for a small Wisconsin paper by a rabid political reporter:
THOMAS MORRIS IN TOWN
Thomas Morris, lieutenant governor of this state and candidate for the United States senate, was in Appleton this morning and spent the day in Outagamie county shaking hands with those who would. But few would shake. He wanted to speak while here, but the enlightened citizens of this city were right in not letting him. Peter Tubits was his chief pilot through the county.
Needless to say, this story was not printed.
127. Newspaper Policies.—Even though it may seem—and in a measure is—in contradiction to what has just been said about accuracy and editorializing, it is nevertheless necessary before passing the subject to comment on the necessity of a reporter’s observing a paper’s editorial policies,—to say, in other words, that all news is not unbiased. For instance, if a newspaper is undertaking a crusade against midwives or pawnshops or certain political leaders, it gives those institutions or those persons little or no credit for the good they accomplish, nor does it feature impartially in its news articles their good and bad acts. Yet such institutions or persons must have accomplished much good to arrive at the rank or position they now hold, and must continue to be of service to retain their standing. The following story, which appeared in a paper crusading against pawnshops and pistol carrying, is an illustration of what is meant by biased news:
JILTED, ENDS LIFE WITH A GUN
Israel Weilman was in love. Three months ago the girl told him she would not marry him. Last night Weilman left his quarters at 875 Banker Street and went to the home of Rebecca Schussman, 904 South Pueblo Avenue, where his room-mate and cousin, David Isaacs, was calling.
“Here are the keys to the room,” he told his cousin, “I will not be home to-night.”
Then Weilman departed. A few minutes later a shot was heard in the alley back of the Schussman home. They found Weilman dead with a bullet wound through his heart. Beside him was a new “American bulldog” revolver, retailing for $1.50. In his pocket was a ticket of sale from the Angsgewitz pawnshop. The profit on this style of weapon is about 25 cents.
Illustrations of prejudiced political news may be found daily in any newspaper.
128. Observing a Paper’s Policies.—It is necessary, therefore, to modify the preceding statements about unbiased news. Those assertions express the millennial dream, colorless news, that American journalism is always approaching as an ideal, but has not yet reached. From the same Associated Press dispatch a Georgia and a Pennsylvania daily can produce stories respectively of success and dissension in the Democratic party. From the same cable bulletin a Milwaukee and a New York paper can obtain German victory and English repulse of repeated Teutonic attacks. Not only can, but do. It is only fair to the would-be reporter, therefore, to tell him that at times in his journalistic career he may be permitted to see snow only through a motorist’s yellow goggles. The modern newspaper is a business organization run for the profit or power of the owners, with the additional motive in the background of possible social uplift,—social uplift as the owners see it. They determine a paper’s policies, and a reporter must learn and observe those policies if he expects to succeed.
129. Following Commands.—Observance of this injunction is particularly valuable in stories relating to political and civic measures. If one is on a paper with Republican affiliations, one may be forced to hear and report a G. O. P. governor’s speech with an elephant’s ears and trumpet,—or with a moose’s ears and voice if the journal is Progressive. It makes no difference what the reporter’s personal feeling or party preferences may be. On such papers he must follow precisely the commands of the managing editor or the city editor and must feature sympathetically or severely what they request. Usually an intelligent sympathy with the general policy of the paper is sufficient for a reporter, no matter how conscientious. It is only rarely that he is trammeled with being forced to write contrary to his convictions. But at those times when such commands are given, he must see and write as requested or seek another position.
130. Consistency of Policy.—On the other hand, suppose in policies affecting the official standing of a newspaper every reporter saw and presented events from his own distorted angle. How consistent would a modern newspaper be? And how long could it hold the respect or patronage of its readers?
131. Clearness.—Next in importance to accuracy comes interest. A story must be interesting to be read. Every paragraph must be clear. Its relation to every other paragraph must be evident, and the story as a whole must be presented so that it may be understood and enjoyed by the reader with as small expenditure of mental effort as possible. Ideas that are connected in thought, either by virtue of their sequence in time or for other reasons, must be kept together, and ideas that are separated in thought must be kept apart. If the story is one covering considerable length of time, care must be taken to keep the different incidents separated in point of time so that the reader may understand readily the relation of the different events to each other. The tenses of the verbs, too, must be kept consistent, logical. One cannot shift at will from past time to the present, and vice versa. If the story is a follow-up of an event that occurred before to-day and has been written up before, the body of the story should contain a sufficient summary of the preceding events to make the details readily clear to all readers,—even though the lead may already have included a connecting link. The summary of events in the lead must necessarily have been brief; the review in the body of the story may be presented at greater length.
132. Coherence.—A valuable aid in gaining clearness is a proper regard for coherence, for obtaining which there are four ways within a story: (1) by arrangement of the facts and statements in a natural sequence of ideas; (2) by use of pronouns; (3) by repetition; and (4) by use of relation words, phrases, and clauses. Discussion has already been given, in Chapter VIII, on the organization of material, of the necessity of logical arrangement of the story. If one has made a proper grouping there, one will have taken the first step, and the surest, toward adequate coherence. Of the three remaining methods, probably the greatest newspaper men are strongest in their use of pronouns, such as these, those, that, them, etc. They also avail themselves freely of a skillful repetition of words,—the third method, which stands almost, but not quite equal to the use of pronouns in effectiveness and frequency. The following fire story exhibits a happy repetition of words for holding the ideas in easy sequence. Note in it the skillful repetition of firemen, fire, whiskey, building, casks, canal.
$750,000 WORTH OF WHISKEY BURNS
Firemen had to fight a canal full of blazing whiskey here to-day when a fire broke out in the building of the Distillery Company, Ltd. Twelve thousand casks of liquor were stored in the building. The conflagration spread rapidly and the explosion of the casks released the whiskey, which made a burning stream of the canal.
Firemen pumped water from the bottom of the canal and played it on the blazing surface. The loss is estimated at $750,000.
133. Relation Words.—In other kinds of writing there is a tendency to use relation words, phrases, and clauses freely between sentences and paragraphs. But in news writing the paucity of such expressions for subconnection—moreover, finally, on the other hand, in the next place, now that we have mentioned the cause of the divorce—is noteworthy. Editors and the news-reading public demand that the ideas follow each other so closely and that the style be so compressed in thought that there shall be small need of connectives between sentences. It is this demand, plus a desire for emphasis, that is responsible for the so-called bing-bing-bing style of writing, of which the following is a fair illustration:
After killing Mrs. Benton, Wallace, and the Weston boy, Carlton set fire to the Lewis “love bungalow.” The wounded were unable to care for themselves. They narrowly escaped death in the burning building. Arrival of rescuing parties attracted by the fire alone saved their lives.
A hatchet was the weapon used by Carlton.
The slayer escaped after the wholesale murder. He is thought to be headed for Chicago. A posse under command of Sheriff Bauer of Spring Green is hunting the man.
The story of the terrible tragedy enacted in the Lewis “love bungalow,” where for some years the celebrated sculptor and the former Mrs. Cross had been living in open defiance of the conventionalities, was a gruesome one as it came to light to-day.
Carlton is twenty-eight years old. He is married. His wife lived with him at the Lewis home. He had been employed by Lewis for six months. He was formerly employed by John Z. Hobart, proprietor of Hobart’s restaurant. He is five feet eight inches tall, of medium build and light in color.
What caused the trouble or the fury of Carlton is not known.
Who first fell is not known.
What is known of the tragedy is this:
Shortly after noon to-day villagers in the little village of Spring Valley, where the Lewis bungalow is and always has been something of a mystery as well as a wonder to the residents, saw smoke coming from the “love bungalow” on the hills. Villagers ran to the place. The fire department responded to the alarm.
The bungalow was rapidly being consumed. Some one entered the house. It was a shambles. Mrs. Benton was found dead. Wallace was dead. Both had been literally chopped to pieces by the infuriated negro.
The bungalow was barricaded before entrance was forced. After the dead had been discovered the wounded were found. They were dragged out. The conscious told disjointed stories of the tragedy and of the awful fury that seemed to possess Carlton, the cook.
The latter was not to be found. He was at first thought to have taken to the hills. Later it was thought he might be hiding in the underground root cellar but no search lights were available.
Men with guns surrounded the house.
The negro will be lynched if he is found, it was thought this afternoon.17
134. Bing-Bing-Bing Style.—On the whole, this bing-bing-bing style of writing cannot be commended. Its value in rapid narrative, where excitement prevails and the reader’s emotions are greatly aroused, is evident. But the style, indulged in too freely, produces a fitful, choppy effect that is not good. The sentences should be longer and more varied in construction. Examination of the preceding illustration shows that it has only three words or phrases used for subconnection, and only four complex sentences.
135. Emphasis.—Next to clearness in holding the interest of the reader comes emphasis, which may be had by avoidance of vague literary phrasing, by a due regard for tone in the story, and by condensation of expression. The first two overlap, since the whole tone of a story may easily be destroyed by an affectation of literary phraseology. These two, therefore, may be considered together.
136. Vague Literary Phrasing.—Many cub reporters feel, when they begin to write, that they must express themselves in a literary style, and to gain that style they affect sonorous, grandiloquent phrases that sound well but mean little. In nine cases out of ten these phrases are the inventions of others and meant much as used in their original connection. But as adopted now by a novice, they are vague, only hazily expressive, lacking in that sharp precision necessary for forceful presentation of news.
137. Tone.—It is this vagueness of expression that as often as not destroys the tone of the story. One may be aiming at portraying the dignity and simplicity of a wedding or the unmarred happiness of the occasion, but if one attempts to equal the joy of the event with the bigness of his words, one will produce upon the reader an effect of revulsion rather than interest. An ignorant, but well-meaning, reporter on an Eastern weekly concluded a wedding story with the following sentences:
After the union of Miss Petty and Mr. Meydam in the holy bonds of wedlock, the beautiful bride and handsome groom and all the knights and ladies present repaired to the dining-room, where a bounteous supper interspersed with mirth and song awaited them. After which they tripped the light fantastic toe until the wee small hours of the morning, when all repaired to their beds of rest and wrapt themselves in the arms of Morpheus.
This selection happens to be a conglomeration mainly of worn-out expressions current in literature for the past two or three centuries. But any use of phrases too large or too emotional for the thought to be conveyed will result in an equally dismal failure. All the words, phrases, and ideas in the following are the writer’s own, but the effect is practically the same as in the preceding story:
The scene and the occasion were both inspiring. The music was furnished by the birds, which were at their best on this bridal day. A meadowlark called to his mate across the lake, asking if he might come and join her. A brown thrush in a tree on the hill near by sent forth across the water a carol full of love and melody such as a Beethoven or a Chopin would strive in vain to imitate. The hills were dressed in their prettiest robes of green. The water was quiet. Nature was at her best. And the bride and groom, both in tastiness of dress and in spirits, were in harmony with nature.
The writer, too, in striving after a definite tone must be equally apprehensive of unintended suggestions caused by an unfortunate closeness of unrelated ideas. This fault was illustrated in a story by an Iowa reporter who wrote that “Lon Stegle took Mrs. Humphrey and a load of hogs to Santo Monday,” and of an unwitting Pennsylvania humorist who said, “Audry Richardson, while visiting his sweetheart in Freedonia last Sunday sprained his arm severely and won’t be able to use it for ten days or two weeks.” If the tone of the story is meant to be dignified, unintended humor may make the presentation absurd.
138. Varied Sentence Length.—The story tone is greatly affected also by the length of the sentences. If one’s sentences are unnecessarily long, the effect will be heavy and tiresome. If they are markedly short, the result will be a monotonous, choppy, jolting effect, like a flat wheel on a street-car. The bing-bing-bing style just discussed is an illustration of the latter. The writer should aim at a happy medium, with simple constructions and a tendency toward shorter sentences than in other kinds of writing. Twenty words make a good average sentence length. It is necessary to remember that one’s stories are read not only by the literati, but by the uneducated as well. One must make one’s style, therefore, so fluent, so easy, that a man with a speaking vocabulary of five hundred words can read and enjoy all one writes.
139. Condensation.—The value of condensation of expression need not be discussed at length here as it is taken up fully in the next chapter. Suffice it to say now, however, that a diffuse style is never forceful. The reporter must condense his ideas into the smallest space possible. Often that space is designated by the city editor when the reporter, on his return to the office, asks for instructions, and nearly always it is only about half enough. But he must follow directions to the letter. Woe to the novice who presents a thousand words, or even six hundred, when the city editor calls for five hundred. Sometimes, however, he will find that the city editor has allotted him more space than he can easily fill. In such a case, let him give length by introducing additional details. Mere words will not suffice. They do not make a story.
140. Final Test of a Story.—The two cares for the reporter, then, in writing the body of the story are accuracy and interest. Accuracy is worth most, and is attained by strict adherence to truth, with plenty of proof for the truth in case it is questioned after publication. Interest may be had by making all statements clear, coherent, forceful. But there is no precise form or method by which accuracy and interest may be obtained. The reporter is given unlimited range in selecting, organizing, and writing his news. He may follow or disregard at will the standard types of other newspaper men’s stories, which should be taken as models only, never as laws. For the final test of the goodness of a story is its effect upon the reader. If it attains the desired result without conforming to the patterns given by other writers, it will become a new pattern for itself and for similar stories. Get accuracy and interest, then, no matter what the method.
XI. The Paragraph
141. Paragraph a Mark of Punctuation.—Discussion of the paragraph really belongs under the head of punctuation, since its purpose is to set off the larger divisions of the story in the same way that the period and the comma mark sentences and phrases. The indention of the first line catches the eye of the reader and notifies him silently to stop for a summary of his impressions before starting a somewhat different phase of the story. Its purpose, like that of the other marks of punctuation, is clearness and emphasis. Yet since its very lax laws are much the same as those of the story, it must be noticed independently.
142. Clearness.—The first requirement of the paragraph is that it shall be clear. Its relation to the paragraphs preceding and following must be evident at a glance. If transitional phrases and sentences or relation words are necessary for making the relation clear, use them; but as a rule, as stated concerning the story as a whole, reliance for clearness in and between paragraphs is placed mainly on the natural and close sequence of ideas.
143. Emphasis.—Next to clearness, the important thing to strive for in the news paragraph is emphasis. Proper emphasis is not a virtue; it is a necessity, because the eye of the rapid reader, as he glances down the columns of the paper, catches only the first words and phrases at each paragraph indention. And according as those words and phrases interest him, so will he take sufficient interest in the paragraph as a whole to read it. For this reason the beginning of each paragraph especially should be emphasized by placing there the most important details. The reporter should guard against putting even dependent clauses and phrases used for subconnection at the beginning of a paragraph, but should envelop them, rather, within the sentence. He should not begin successive paragraphs with the same words or phrases or with the same construction. It is remarkable how unfavorably such small details influence readers. All this does not mean that the paragraph should end lamely. It cannot conclude with the emphasis of the beginning, it is true, but it may be well rounded at the end and its lack of emphasis in details may be compensated with vigor and deftness of expression.
144. Paragraph Length.—The length of one’s paragraphs should also be a matter of due consideration. They must be not only brief, but brief looking. The modern reader will not brook long ones. Single-sentence paragraphs are frequent, particularly in the lead. Two- or three-sentence paragraphs are common. Half-column paragraphs are unendurable. The average newspaper column permits lines of about seven words each, so that twenty lines, or 140 words, should be the limit of a paragraph. Eight or ten lines is a good average length. Because of this necessary brevity, the newspaper paragraph allows no topics and subtopics within its limited space, but throws every subtopic into an individual paragraph. This the reporter may follow as a safe rule in paragraphing: whenever in doubt about the advisability of a new paragraph, make one.
XII. The Sentence18
145. Requisites.—The same laws of accuracy and interest hold for the sentence as for the story as a whole. But in the sentence they are more rigid,—due in the main to the fact that the sentence is briefer and more readily analyzable. And while one sympathizes with the overworked reporter who served notice upon critical college professors that “when the hands of the clock are near on to press time, and I have a million things to write in a few minutes, I don’t give a whoop if I do end a few sentences with prepositions,” and concluded by saying, “If I had as much time as the average college professor has, I probably could write good grammar, too”;—while one sympathizes with the time-driven newspaper man who never has sufficient leisure to polish a story as he would like, the fact still remains that the reader cannot tell from looking at a story, nor should he be allowed to tell, how much rushed the reporter was. The only thing the reader is interested in is the story, whether it is good or not; and if he does not regard it as worth while, if the sentences are faulty, ungrammatical, weak, he will read another story or another paper.
146. Grammar.—The first point to regard in seeking accuracy in the sentence is good grammar. This may seem a trivial injunction to offer a coming star reporter on a great metropolitan daily; but the city editor’s assistants have to correct more grammatical errors in cub copy than any other kind of mistake except spelling and punctuation. The main violations of grammar may be classified conveniently under four heads: faulty reference, incorrect verb forms, failures in coördinating and subordinating different parts of a sentence, and poor ellipsis.
147. Pronouns Referring to Ideas.—Probably the most prolific cause of bad grammar and of obscurity of meaning in news writing may be found in the use of unclear pronouns. One or more instances may be found in almost every paper a reader examines. A reporter should assure himself that every pronoun he uses refers to a particular word in the sentence and that it agrees with that word in gender and number. The use of a pronoun to refer to a general idea not expressed in a particular word is one of the commonest causes of ambiguity and obscurity in newspaper work. In the following sentence note what a ludicrous turn is given the sentence by the use of which referring to an idea:
A card from C. A. Laird, son of Harry Laird, informs the Democrat that his father is slightly improved and that they now have hopes of his recovery, although he suffers much pain from his fractured jaw, which will be good news to his many Lock Haven friends.
148. Agreement of Pronouns in Number.—A second prime cause of incorrect reference is found in a writer’s failure to make a reference word agree in number with the noun to which it refers. Such faulty reference occurs most frequently after collective nouns, such as mob, crowd, council, jury, assembly; after distributive pronouns, such as everyone, anybody, nobody; and after two or more singular and plural nouns, where the reporter forgets momentarily to which he is referring. In the following sentences note that each of the italicized pronouns violates one or more of these principles, thereby polluting the clearness of the meaning:
The mob was already surrounding the attorney’s home, but they moved so slowly that we got in ahead.
We have heard more than one express themselves that next year Merrillan should have the biggest celebration of the century.
Everyone who had any interest in the boat was inquiring about their friends and relatives.
A peculiar thing about each one was that they chose a husband with a given name that rhymed much the same with their own. Mrs. Baker was Josephine Ramp and secured Joe as her husband; Arnie Hallauer and Annie Ramp, Gust Lumblad and Gusta Ramp, and Eugene Carver and Ella Ramp. The latter is a widow. The given name of each one commences with the same letter in each instance.
149. Ambiguous Antecedents.—Then there is a use of the pronoun with an unclear antecedent buried somewhere in the sentence, so that the pronoun seems to refer to an intervening word. Such a misuse really is a matter of clearness rather than of grammar, and should come under the next section of this chapter, but it will be discussed here for the sake of including all misuses of the pronoun at once. The ambiguous use of pronouns is the most common error of faulty reference. The following are typical illustrations:
The Rev. Mr. Tomlinson states that he wants a steady, religious young man to look after his garden and care for his cow who has a good voice and is accustomed to singing in the choir.
Atkinson telephoned that he was at Zeibski’s corners in his machine and had his wife with him. She had died on him and he wanted the garage company to come out and pull her in.
150. Split Infinitive.—Next to faulty reference in frequency comes the use of incorrect verb forms. Of these probably the most common error among cub reporters is the employment of the split infinitive,—to quickly run instead of to run quickly. The split infinitive is not necessarily an error. There are times when one’s precise meaning can be expressed only by the use of an adverb between to and its infinitive. But as a rule one should avoid the construction. Certainly there was no excuse for the following in a Chicago paper:
President Yuan Shi Kai declared he was willing to permit Professor Frank Johnson Goodnow of Brooklyn, legal adviser to the Chinese government, to in August accept the presidency of Johns Hopkins University.
151. Infinitive and Participle with Verbs.—The use of the infinitive and the participle with the past tense of verbs is also a cause of frequent error. Our English rule regarding these parts of the verb is mainly a matter of usage, accuracy in which may be attained only by habits of correct speech. But if the reporter will bear in mind that the infinitive and the participle have no finite tense of their own, that they always express time relative to the time of the main verb, he will have taken a real precaution toward preventing confusion. For example, the newspaper man who wrote,
Detective McGuire had intended to have arrested him when he began blowing the safe, did not say what he meant, because the past infinitive here makes the writer say that Detective McGuire had intended to have the yeggman already under arrest when he began blowing the safe. What the writer meant to say was:
Detective McGuire had intended to arrest him when he began blowing the safe.
Likewise the reporter was inaccurate who wrote:
Going into the basement, they found the cocaine stored beneath a heap of rags.
He was not accurate, unless he meant that they found the cocaine while on the way to the basement. The cause of his inaccuracy lies in the fact that the time expressed by the participle going varies from that of the main verb. What he should have said was,
Having gone into the basement,...
or better,
After going into the basement, they found the cocaine stored beneath a heap of rags.
152. Dangling Participles.—Another detail for careful attention in the use of the participle is the necessity of having a definite noun or pronoun in the sentence for the participle to modify. It is wrong to write,
Having arrived at the county jail, the door was forced open, because the sentence seems to say that the door did the arriving. The sentence should be written,
Having arrived at the county jail, the mob forced open the door.
153. Agreement of Verbs.—One should watch one’s verbs carefully, too, to see that they agree in number with their subjects. One is sometimes tempted to make the verb agree with the predicate, as in the following:
The weakest section of the course are the ninth, tenth, and eleventh holes.
But English usage requires agreement of the verb with the subject. If the subject is a collective noun, one may regard it as either singular or plural. But when the writer has made his choice, he must maintain a consistent point of view. One may say,
The mob were now gathering in the northeast corner of the yard and yelling themselves hoarse, or The mob was now gathering in the northeast corner of the yard and yelling itself hoarse.
But the two points of view may not be mixed in the same sentence or the same paragraph. That the following sentence is wrong should be evident at a glance:
The Kellog-Haines Singing Party has been on the lyceum and chautauqua platform for eight years and have toured together the entire United States.
Confusion is often caused also by qualifying phrases intervening between subjects and their verbs. Thus:
The number of the strikers and of the members of the employment associations do not agree with the report made by the commission.
And sometimes one finds a plural verb wrongly used after the correlative terms either... or and neither... nor, as in the following:
Neither the mother of the children nor the aunt were held responsible for the accident.
Finally, one often finds reporters consistently using a singular verb after the expletive there. In fifty per cent of the cases the writers are wrong. Thus:
The briefest glance at the yard and premises would have shown that there was more than one in the conspiracy.
Here was should be were.
154. Coördination and Subordination.—The third error in grammatical construction, failure to coördinate or subordinate sentences and parts of sentences properly, cannot be treated with so much sureness as the two preceding faults; yet certain definite instruction may be given. And, but, for, or, and nor are called coördinating conjunctions; that is, they are used to connect words, phrases, and clauses of equal rank. If one uses and to connect a noun with a verb, or a past participle with a present participle, or a verb in the indicative mood with one in the subjunctive, he perverts the conjunction and produces a consequent effect of awkwardness or lack of clearness in the sentence. Look at the following:
The sister residing in Albany, and who is said to have struck one of the visiting sisters, followed them into the sick room.
In this sentence and is used to connect the participle residing with the pronoun who, and the consequent awkwardness results. This is the much condemned and who construction. Likewise, in the next sentence:
Five hundred persons saw two boys washed from the end of Winter’s pier and drowning in twenty feet of water at noon to-day.
And is here used to connect the past participle washed with the present participle drowning, and the sentence is thereby rendered clumsy.
155. Clauses Unequal in Thought.—An equally great inaccuracy is the attempt to connect with a coördinate conjunction clauses equivalent in grammatical construction, but unequal in thought value. Other things being equal, the ideas of greatest value should be put into independent clauses, the ideas of least value into dependent clauses or phrases. Other things being equal, be it understood, for by a too strict observance of this rule one may easily make the sentence ludicrous. Take the following as an illustration:
We were to raid the hall precisely at midnight, and we set our watches to the second.
Here the thought-value of the two clauses is not equal, no matter how the writer may attempt to make it seem so by expressing the ideas in clauses grammatically equal. The second clause contains the main idea; so the first should be subservient. Thus:
As we were to raid the hall precisely at midnight, we set our watches to the second.
In the corrected form the sentence is given greater force by having the reader’s attention directed specifically to the thought of prime importance, the setting of the watches. And so with the following sentences. Note that the second in each case is made more forceful by centering the attention on what is most important in thought.
The saloons were not allowed after January 1 to keep open on Sunday, and half of them gave up their licenses.
As the saloons were not allowed after January 1 to keep open on Sunday, half of them gave up their licenses.
He fell from the sixth story and was able to walk away without assistance.
Though he fell from the sixth story, he was able to walk away without assistance.
156. Ellipsis.—Ellipsis is the omission of a word or phrase necessary to the meaning of a sentence. An ellipsis is poor when the words omitted cannot readily be understood from the context. Pope’s line,
To err is human; to forgive, divine.
is an illustration of good ellipsis because the word is can readily be substituted from the context. The following ellipses, however, are not good:
Louis Flanagan is helping his brother Silas cut wood and numerous other things.
He shadowed Laux longer than O’Rourke.
Standing on each side of the door, a fat and tall man looked suspiciously at them.
Ellipsis is often desirable for the sake of brevity, but one must be sure never to omit a word or phrase unless precisely that word or phrase may be readily supplied from the context.
157. Clearness in the Sentence.—After correct grammar, the next points to seek in writing the sentence are clearness and force, which together give a sentence its interest. Of the two, clearness is the more important. A reporter should never write a sentence that must be read twice to be understood. As has been said once or twice already, but may be repeated for emphasis, news stories to-day are read rapidly, and rapid reading is possible only when sentences yield their ideas with small effort on the part of the reader. Consider the following:
The Assembly on Thursday refused to pass the Grell Bill, permitting the sale of intoxicating liquors, after the close of the polls on election days, over the governor’s veto.
This sentence is clear if one will stop to read it twice; but there is the trouble: one must read it twice—a task few will perform.
158. Grammatically Connected Phrases.—The lack of entire clearness in the sentence just quoted is due to a difficulty over which the best writers often stumble,—failure to keep grammatically connected words, phrases, and clauses as close together as possible. In the sentence quoted, for instance, if the phrase over the governor’s veto were placed immediately after pass, the whole sentence would be clear at once to the reader. The same fault exists in the following:
The witness said she had a furnished bedroom for a gentleman 22 feet long by 11 feet wide.
159. Correlative Conjunctions.—The correlative conjunctions, either... or, neither... nor, whether... or, and not only... but also, are also particularly liable to trip a writer. Each should come immediately before the word or phrase it modifies. For example:
Either the prisoner will be hanged or sentenced to life imprisonment.
This sentence obviously is wrong. Either here should come immediately before hanged, making the sentence read:
The prisoner will be either hanged or sentenced to life imprisonment.
160. “Only” and “Alone.”—Only and alone belong in the same class of modifiers that demand close watching. Only comes immediately before the word or phrase it modifies, alone immediately after. One should avoid using only when alone may be used instead, and should not place either of the two words between emphatic words or phrases. The following illustrates an inaccurate placing of only:
The evidence seemed to show that a man could only obtain advancement in the Hall by submitting wholly to the dictates of the leaders.
Only here should come immediately before the phrase by submitting.
161. Parenthetic Expressions.—The use of long parenthetic expressions within a sentence is also a frequent cause of lack of clearness. In general, sentences within parentheses should be avoided in news articles. Two short terse sentences are clearer—hence far more effective—than one long one containing a doubtfully clear parenthetic phrase or clause. The prime fault with the following sentence, for instance, is the inclusion of the two parenthetic clauses, necessitating a close reading to get the meaning:
Even if the allies shall be able to force the Dardanelles, and present indications are that they will, the wheat crop in Russia will not be up to the average from that country on account of the withdrawal of so many millions of men for purely military purposes, either in the fields of battle or in the factories getting munitions of war ready.
Put into two sentences, the illustration becomes:
Even if the allies shall be able to fulfil their present expectations of forcing the Dardanelles, the Russian wheat will not be up to the average. Too many millions of men have been withdrawn from the field to the trenches and the munition factories to enable the country to produce a full crop.
162. Shifted Subject.—A shifted subject within a sentence is also usually a hindrance to clearness. Indeed, one can aid clearness in successive sentences by retaining as far as possible the same subject. Certainly one should not shift subjects within the sentence without good reason. The two following sentences exhibit the weakness of the shifted subject:
The British ambassador to Norway has offered $25,000 reward for his capture, and he bears a special passport from the Kaiser.
Witter was standing near the curb, but the death-car passed without his seeing it.
Improved, these sentences become:
The British ambassador to Norway has offered $25,000 reward for the capture of Benson, who bears a special passport from the Kaiser.
Witter was standing near the curb, but failed to see the death-car pass.
163. Coherence.—Clearness frequently is destroyed or greatly lessened through lack of proper coherence. Writers often forget that every sentence has a double purpose: to convey a meaning itself and to make clearer the meaning of preceding and succeeding sentences. The reporter should watch closely to see not only that the phrases of his sentences follow each other in natural sequence, but also that the relation of those phrases to adjacent ones in the same or other sentences is clearly shown. Here is a notice made ludicrous because the reporter used a connective indicating a wrong relation between two clauses:
Mrs. Alpheus White is on the sick list this week. Dr. Anderson has been with her, but we hope she may soon recover.
The connective that the writer should have used, of course, was and, or else none at all. Substitute the and or merely omit the but and the coherence is perfect.
164. Coherence and Unity.—Many sentences that appear to lack unity are really wanting in proper coherence. For instance,
Dr. Alvers was called as soon as the accident was discovered, and it is feared now she will not recover, is a sentence lacking in unity, but one that may be unified properly if the coherence is made good. Thus:
Dr. Alvers was called as soon as the accident was discovered, and though he gave all the aid that medical science could render, it is feared now she will not recover.
165. Sentence Emphasis.—Sentence emphasis is gained in five ways: by form, position, proportion, repetition, and delicacy of expression. Sentence form—putting into an independent clause what is most important—has already been discussed under clearness. The use of position for emphasis is the placing at the beginning or end of the sentence the ideas that are most important and the enclosure within of the less important thoughts. The following sentence illustrates a writer’s failure to avail himself of position for emphasis:
This afternoon reports that she was still missing from home were being circulated.
But this afternoon and circulated are not the important concepts. Reports and still missing from home are the emphatic ideas and should be put first and last respectively. Thus:
Reports were being circulated this afternoon that she was still missing from home.
So with the following:
This morning fifty convicts of the Kansas State penitentiary were placed in solitary confinement, accused of being leaders in a mutiny yesterday in the coal mines operated by the penitentiary.
This morning and mines operated by the penitentiary are not, however, the important ideas. A better arrangement of the sentence reads:
Accused of being leaders in a mutiny yesterday in the penitentiary coal mines, fifty convicts of the Kansas State penitentiary were placed this morning in solitary confinement.
Similarly, a phrase or clause transferred from its normal position in the sentence will attract attention to itself. Note the increased emphasis upon the matter was purely political in the following sentence by transference of it from its normal position at the end:
Simpson, who was in the uniform of a lieutenant when arrested at New Orleans, said the matter was purely political.
That the matter was purely political was the statement made by Simpson, who was in the uniform of a lieutenant when arrested at New Orleans.
166. Proportion for Emphasis.—The emphasis of a sentence in a news story varies in inverse proportion to its length. Emphasis is gained by brevity. A prolix style tires the reader; and newspaper space is valuable. The reporter, therefore, must make his sentences short and pointed. He must condense, must reduce predication to a minimum. As few verbs as possible and all verbs active is a slogan in the news room. It is an error from a newspaper standpoint to include in a sentence any word that may be omitted without altering or obscuring the sense. One of the first requisites for success in journalism is ability to present facts with a minimum of words. Note the added emphasis given the following sentences by mere reduction in the number of words:
It is well to understand that a high temperature of heat, boiling or more, destroys the germs of disease.
It is well understood that a high temperature, boiling or more, destroys germs.
A pioneer living west of Solon blew his head off to-day with a shotgun. Death followed the deed instantly.
A pioneer living west of Solon killed himself instantly to-day by blowing his head off with a shotgun.
Miss Helen Goodrich, who is an aviatrix of note, was arrested in Bremen this morning charged with kidnapping.
Miss Helen Goodrich, an aviatrix of note, was arrested in Bremen this morning charged with kidnapping.
Note that in the last illustration, in particular, the condensation consists in reducing predication, in merely removing a verb and a pronoun from the sentence.
167. Repetition.—The worth of repetition as a means of obtaining coherence has been discussed in a preceding chapter. Its value as an effective means of gaining emphasis is also noteworthy. Consider the effect of the repetition of the word blithe in the following two sentences:
A blithe young man met a blithe young woman at State and Adams Streets Friday. Michael Hurley, a blithe plain-clothes policeman, met them both.
Great care must be exercised, however, in repeating a word for emphasis. The usage may easily be a handicap rather than a help. More often than not, repetition of the same word or phrase is the result of laziness or paucity of vocabulary, and destroys the force of the sentence. An instance of too frequent use of the same word—the adjective beautiful—appears in the following:
The bride was elaborately gowned in a beautiful sky-blue messaline dress, with silk over lace, and carried a beautiful bouquet of gladiolis, besides having a beautiful bouquet of flowers at the waist. The groom wore the usual blue worsted suit, with a beautiful buttonhole bouquet, while the bridesmaid was beautifully gowned in a white French serge trimmed with a light blue silk girdle and a blue silk tango cord at the throat, and also had a beautiful bouquet at the waist. The best man wore a rich dark gray suit and also had a beautiful buttonhole bouquet. The room was beautifully decorated with green foliage and roses, formed into a beautiful arch, under which the couple stood during the ceremony, which was performed by Rev. Wells of this city.
168. Delicacy of Expression.—Delicacy of expression is that quality in news writing which distinguishes the star reporter from the cub. It may be learned, but never taught. It is this elusive element in writing and the inability of instructors to impart it that make many journalists say news writing cannot be taught. Delicacy of expression is not effeminacy. It is originality; it is cleverness; it is nimbleness of wit and beauty of phrase; it is grace; it is simplicity; it is restraint; it is tact. It is all these, and more. It is that intuition in a star man which forbids his beginning the same kind of story day after day with a fixed, hackneyed type of sentence, which makes him avoid triteness of expression. It is that something in him which compels him to avoid affectation, to love beauty and grace, born of simplicity, unadornedness. It is that inborn sense of good taste that restrains the writer from indelicate, personal allusions so offensive to men and women of refinement. All this and more is delicacy of expression, and blest is the journalist who has it. The reporter who wrote the following had not yet learned the art:
THE HAVENS-MERRILL WEDDING
At 7:30 the sounds of the wedding march scintillated through the Havens house like tired waves laving the shores of a mighty lake. Seldom if ever has such a scene been witnessed in this place. The smell of spring flowers was everywhere coming to all nostrils. Presently there was a slight disturbance at the right hand entrance, and then the bride entered on the arm of her father, William Havens, the well-known merchant. Simultaneous at the opposite door was another disturbance, and the bridegroom entered attended by Henry Merrill of Des Moines. Then the two parties proceeded down the middle aisles, meeting under a beautiful marriage bell where the two hearts were beautifully made as one, which was followed by congratulations all along the aisles.
MR. CRAIG WEDS MISS SCHELL
Mr. Joe Craig and Miss Cora Schell, both of Mena, were quietly married at the Hotel Main, Durant, Okla., Monday, and are boarding at this hotel. Mr. Craig is well known as a skilful bricklayer, honest and industrious. The bride is well known in this city and proved her worth by the years she served the Lochridge Dry Goods Company as cashier. She is a member of the Woodmen Circle and carries a large insurance. We regret that she must leave, but like Rebekah of old, she leaves home, family, and friends to travel the journey of life with her “Isaac” (Joe) in a distant land. We feel that the expression of all her friends is that the best this world affords will be theirs to the end of their journey and that a new life awaits them in another and higher sphere.
169. Essentials of the Sentence.—If a reporter can write grammatically correct sentences,—if he can coördinate and subordinate accurately the different parts; if he can give all the pronouns definite antecedents; if he can keep his verbs consistent, having them agree in person and number with their subjects; if he can make effective use of ellipsis,—his sentences will possess the first essentials of a good sentence,—accuracy. If he can make his sentences clear and forceful,—if he can keep grammatically connected words, phrases, and clauses close together; if he can eliminate lengthy parenthetic expressions; if he can avoid unnecessary shifts of subjects within sentences; if he can make readily clear the relation of every phrase in a sentence to every other phrase in it and adjoining sentences; if he can put important ideas at the beginning and the end of the sentence; if he can make his sentences short and concise; if he can acquire delicacy of expression,—his sentences will possess the second requisite of a good sentence,—interest. Accuracy and interest, these are the elements that make a sentence good. And the greater of these is accuracy.
XIII. Words
170. Accuracy and Interest.—For words, as for sentences and stories, the same law holds,—accuracy and interest. If one’s words are accurate and stimulate interest in the reader, they are good.
171. Accuracy.—Accuracy comes first. It is necessary always to write with a nice regard for exact shades of meaning. As Flaubert declared, “Whatever one wishes to say, there is only one noun to express it, only one verb to give it life, only one adjective to qualify it. Search then till that noun, that verb, that adjective is discovered. Never be content with very nearly; never have recourse to tricks, however happy, or to buffoonery of language to avoid a difficulty. This is the way to become original.” An accurate writer avoids looseness of thinking and inexactness of expression as he avoids libel. The adjective lurid is an illustration of a word over which careless reporters have stumbled for generations. When the casualties of the war against inaccuracy are recorded, lurid will be among the missing. As used by ignorant scribblers, the word means something like bright or brilliant, or perhaps towering; yet its precise meaning is pale yellow, wan, ghastly. Journalists of the last quarter of the nineteenth century will remember a long list of such sins against precision, recorded by Charles A. Dana, editor of the New York Sun. A few additions have been made to his list, and the whole is given below. The reader should distinguish keenly between each pair of words and should be careful never to misuse one of them. Do not use:
| above or over | for | more than | last | for | latest |
| administered | for | dealt | less | for | fewer |
| affect | for | effect | like | for | as if |
| aggravate | for | irritate | materially | for | largely |
| allude | for | refer | notice | for | observe |
| and | for | to | murderous | for | dangerous |
| audience | for | spectators | onto | for | on or upon |
| avocation | for | vocation | partially | for | partly |
| awfully | for | very or exceedingly | pants | for | trousers |
| balance | for | remainder | past two years | for | last two years |
| banquet | for | dinner | perform | for | play |
| beside | for | besides | posted | for | informed |
| call attention | for | direct attention | practically | for | virtually |
| can | for | may | prior to | for | before |
| claim | for | assert | propose | for | purpose |
| conscious | for | aware | proven | for | proved |
| couple | for | two | raise | for | rear |
| date back to | for | date from | quite | for | very |
| deceased | for | died | section | for | region |
| dock | for | pier or wharf | spend | for | pass |
| dove | for | dived | standpoint | for | point of view |
| emigrate | for | immigrate | suicide | as | a verb |
| endorse | for | approve | suspicion | for | suspect |
| exposition | for | exhibition | sustain | for | receive |
| farther | for | further | transpire | for | occur |
| favor | for | resemble | universal | for | general |
| groom | for | bridegroom | vest | for | waistcoat |
| happen | for | occur | vicinity | for | neighborhood |
| hung | for | hanged | viewpoint | for | point of view |
| infinite | for | great, vast | witness | for | see |
| in our midst | for | among us | would seem | for | seems |
| in spite of | for | despite |
172. Clearness.—To secure interest, a word must be clear and forceful. It should not be technical or big, but simple. The biggest words in the average newspapers are the handiwork and pride of the cub reporters. Yet clearness, force, brevity all demand little words,—simplicity. And the simplest words are those of everyday speech,—Anglo-Saxon words generally,—such as home rather than residence, begin rather than commence, coffin rather than casket. The reporter who uses ornate, technical, or little-known words does so at his own peril and to the injury of his story; for the average newspaper reader, without the benefits of a college education and having a limited vocabulary of one to two thousand words, does not know and has no time to look up the meaning of unfamiliar words and phrases. This is why many city editors prefer to employ high-school students and break them in as cubs rather than take college graduates who, proud of their education and vocabularies, attempt to display their learning in every story they write. Simple, familiar, everyday words, those that every reader knows, are always the most forceful and clear, and hence the most fitting. The following is a list of words which young writers are most commonly tempted to use:
| accord | for | give | inaugurate | for | begin |
| aggregate | for | total | individual | for | person |
| appertains | for | pertains | obsequies | for | funeral |
| apprehend | for | arrest | participate | for | take part |
| calculate | for | think, expect | per diem | for | a day |
| canine | for | dog | perform | for | play |
| casket | for | coffin | purchase | for | buy |
| commence | for | begin | recuperate | for | recover |
| conflagration | for | fire | remains | for | body, corpse |
| construction | for | building | render | for | sing |
| contribute | for | give | reside | for | live |
| cortège | for | procession | retire | for | go to bed |
| destroyed by fire | for | burned | rodent | for | rat |
| donate | for | give | subsequently | for | later |
| elicit | for | draw | tonsorial artist | for | barber |
| hymeneal altar | for | chancel | via | for | by way of |
173. Force.—Force demands that one’s words be emphatic. Unfortunately a reporter cannot have readers always eager to read what he writes. If he had, his readers would be satisfied with having his words merely accurate and clear. Instead, they demand that their attention be attracted, compelled. The words must be fitting, apt, fresh, unhackneyed, specific rather than general. The spectators gathered in the field must not be a vast concourse, but ten thousand persons. Nor must it be about ten thousand. The about should be omitted. A specific ten thousand persons present is much more effective and, being a round number, is a sufficient indication that no actual count has been made. In all cases where there is a choice between a specific and a general term, the specific one should be used.
174. Trite Phrases.—Interest requires one also to seek originality of expression, to avoid trite phrases and hackneyed words. Embalmed meats and kyanized sentences are never good. Yet one of the most difficult acquirements in reporting is the ability to find day after day a new way to tell of some obscure person dying of pneumonia or heart disease. Only reporters who have fought and overcome the arctic drowsiness of trite phraseology know the difficulty of fighting on day after day, seeking a new, a different way to tell the same old story of suicide or marriage or theft or drowning. Yet one is no longer permitted to say that the bridegroom wore the conventional black, or the bride was elegantly gowned, or the bride’s mother presided at the punch bowl, or the assembled guests tripped the light fantastic. The reporter must find new words for everything and must tell all with the same zest and the same sparkling freshness of expression with which he wrote on his first day in the news office.
175. Figures of Speech.—In his search for freshness, variety of expression, the reporter often may avail himself of figures of speech. These add suggestiveness to writing and increase its meaning by interpretation in a figurative rather than a literal sense. To say, “Oldfield flew round the bowl like a ruined soul on the rim of Hades,” is more effective than “Oldfield ran his car round the course at a 110-mile rate of speed.” But the writer must be careful not to mix his figures, or he may easily make himself ridiculous. An apt illustration of such mixing of figures is the following:
It seemed as if the governor were hurling his glove into the teeth of the advancing wave that was sounding the clarion call of equal suffrage.
In particular, one must not personify names of ships, cities, states, and countries. Note, for example, the incongruity in the following:
Especially does the man of discriminating taste appreciate her when he compares her with the ordinary tubs sailing the Great Lakes.
176. Elegance.—Force also requires that one heed what may sometimes seem trivialities of good usage. For instance, a minister may not be referred to as Rev. Anderson, but as the Rev. Mr. Anderson. Coinage of titles, too, is not permitted: as Railway Inspector Brown for John Brown, a railway inspector. And the overused “editorial we” has now passed entirely from the news article. In an unsigned story, even the pronoun I should not be used, nor such circumlocutions as the writer, the reporter, or the correspondent. In a signed story, however, the pronoun I is used somewhat freely, while such stilted phrases as the scribe, your humble servant, etc., are absolutely taboo.
177. Slang.—Finally, mention must be made of slang, the uncouth relative in every respectable household. It is used freely on the sporting page, but is barred from other columns, its debarment being due to its lack of elegance and clearness. On the sporting page slang has been accepted because there one is writing to a narrow circle of masculine Goths who understand the patois of the gridiron, the diamond, and the padded ropes and prefer it to the language of civilization. But such diction is always limited in its range of acquaintances and followers. A current bit of slang in Memphis may be unintelligible in Pittsburg. A colloquial ephemeralism in a city may be undecipherable in the country districts twenty-five miles away. A large percentage of the athletic jargon of the sporting club and field is enigmatical to the uninitiated. And since a newspaper man writes for the world at large rather than for any specific class or group, he cannot afford to take chances on muddying his sentences by the use of slang. The best test of a good journalist is the instinct for writing for heterogeneous masses of people. That word is not a good one which is clear only to select readers, whether select in ignorance or select in intelligence. The news story permits no such selection. It is written, not for the few, not for the many as distinct from the few, but for all. No other kind of reading matter is so cosmopolitan in its freedom from class or provincial limitations as is the news story, and none is more unwavering in its elimination of slang. Newly coined words, it is true, are admitted more readily into news stories than into magazine articles, but slang itself is barred. One may not write of the “glad rags” of the debutante, or the “bagging” of the criminal, or the “swiping” of the messenger boy’s “bike.” One may not even employ such colloquialisms as “enthuse,” “swell” (delightful), “bunch” (group). But one may use such new coinages as burglarize, home-run, and diner rather freely. When in doubt about the reputability of a word, however, one should consult a standard dictionary, which should be kept continually on one’s desk.
Notes
9 Minneapolis Tribune, July 22, 1915.
10 Des Moines Register, December 27, 1914.
11 Before reading this chapter, the student should examine the style book in the Appendix, particularly that part dealing with the preparation of copy for the city desk.
12 George R. Holmes, of the United Press Associations, in The Appleton Post, July 30, 1915.
13 For an additional discussion of the informal lead, see Chapter XIX.
14 Milwaukee Sentinel, August 7, 1914.
15 New York Times, August 27, 1915.
16 New York Herald, December 21, 1915.
17 Chicago American.
18 Teachers having classes sufficiently advanced may find it advisable to pass hastily over this chapter, or may omit it entirely.