Chapter XI: Part III: , Chapter XVI. In holiday celebrations also the feature may be (4)

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

_Result Featured_

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

_Connection with Preceding Events_

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

_Entirely New Feature Played Up_

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

[48] _Chicago Tribune_, November 25, 1915.

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

_Probable Effect_

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

_Probable Motive_

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

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

XIX. FEATURE STORIES

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

| =FIXES BROKEN LEG WITH NAILS= |
| |
|Capt. Patrick Rogers of truck company No. 2 found a |
|man leaning against the quarters at Washington and |
|Clinton Streets early yesterday and demanded what he|
|was doing. |
| |
|"I broke my leg getting off a car," said the |
|stranger. "Gimme a hammer and some nails and I'll |
|fix it." ... |

| =AMERICAN WASTE= |
| |
|If it were not for our industrial wastefulness, it |
|is a fair guess that the income of the United States|
|would be sixteen times--Well, do you know that |
|America burns up forty thousand tons of paper a day,|
|worth fifty dollars a ton? That alone is $2,000,000 |
|a day wasted.... |

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

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

| ="MISSOURI" IN CHICAGO= |
| |
|"Missouri" Perkins is sixteen and hails from Kansas |
|City. This morning he walked into the office of the |
|Postal Telegraph Company on Dearborn Street and |
|asked for a job. The manager happened to want a |
|messenger boy just at that moment and gave him a |
|message to deliver in a hurry. |
| |
|"Here's your chance, my boy," said the manager. |
|"These people have been kicking about undelivered |
|messages. Now don't come back until you deliver it."|
| |
|A while afterward the telephone rang. On the other |
|end of the wire was a building watchman, somewhat |
|terrified. |
| |
|"Have you got a boy they call 'Missouri?'" inquired |
|the watchman. |
| |
|"We did have ten minutes ago," replied the manager. |
| |
|The watchman continued: "That 'Missouri' feller came|
|over here and said he had to go to one of the |
|offices. We don't allow no one up at that office at |
|this hour and I told him he couldn't go." |
| |
|"Yes, yes," said the manager. |
| |
|"Well," said the watchman, "he said he would go, and|
|I had to pull my gun on him." |
| |
|"But you didn't shoot my messenger," exclaimed the |
|manager. |
| |
|"No," meekly came the response over the wire, "but I|
|want my gun back." |

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

| =HIS WIFE, SHE WENT AWAY= |
| |
| =And He Did a Little Entertaining, Which |
| Leads Up to This Story= |
| |
|Mrs. Gladys I. Fick visited in California. |
| |
|Mr. Fick entertained while she was away. |
| |
|Mrs. Fick found it out. |
| |
|And got a divorce. |
| |
|Yesterday. |

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

| =SILENT ABOUT BULLET IN BRAIN= |
| |
|A tragedy of childhood featuring the loyalty of |
|10-year-old Stephen Stec to his three years younger |
|brother Albert, even when he felt death near, was |
|brought out at Kenosha hospital to-day. X-ray |
|pictures showed that the older boy had a bullet from|
|a revolver embedded to a distance of three inches in|
|the brain matter. |
| |
|The boy was shot by his younger brother Sunday |
|afternoon, but after they had agreed to keep secret |
|the story of the shooting, Stephen, with the |
|stoicism of a Spartan, had refused to tell the |
|story. When the X-ray picture revealed his secret he|
|sobbed out, "He didn't mean to do it." Then he told |
|the story. |
| |
| ="Just Tired Out," He Says= |
| |
|The two boys had been left at home alone on Sunday |
|afternoon. Their father, Albert Stec, a prosperous |
|market man, had warned them never to touch a |
|revolver which lay in a drawer. Little Albert, not |
|yet 6 years old, got the weapon, pointed it at the |
|brother, and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered |
|the back of the other boy's head. The mother, on her|
|return home, found the boy on the floor with his |
|little brother keeping a vigil. |
| |
|"I'm just tired out," the boy told his mother. She |
|put him to bed and tucked him away under the covers.|
|With the little brother playing about the bed he |
|went off to sleep. |
| |
| =Physician Stumbles Onto Secret= |
| |
|Monday morning he appeared sick and remained at home|
|from school. In the afternoon his mother became |
|worried when he failed to recover from drowsiness |
|which had overtaken him and she called Dr. J. N. |
|Pait. The physician made an examination of the boy, |
|but found nothing to account for his condition. |
| |
|Then he rubbed his hand over his head. The telltale |
|blood revealed the fact that the boy had been |
|injured. With the little brother holding on to his |
|coat the boy walked bravely to an automobile and was|
|taken to the Kenosha hospital, where the X-ray |
|machine revealed his secret. |
| |
| =All Functions Remain Normal= |
| |
|This afternoon at the hospital it was declared that |
|the boy showed no sign of fever and that his pulse |
|was normal. |
| |
|"The case is a most remarkable one," declared Dr. |
|Pait. "The boy is cheerful and every organ of the |
|body is performing its functions, but at that there |
|is the bullet in his brain. We expect sudden |
|collapse in the case, but a boy as brave as he is |
|should live." The little fellow made no complaint |
|and when the smaller brother was brought to the |
|hospital their greeting was of a most tender nature.|
| |
|"That big machine gave it away," was the way the |
|injured boy broke the story of his seeming |
|faithlessness to his trust.[50] |

[50] _Chicago Tribune_, March 3, 1915.

=284. Feature Story Writers.=--Feature stories in the Sunday supplement are written generally by a regular staff of writers. Some of the staff are office men on the pay-roll of the papers. Others are regular contributors who fill certain amounts of space each week or month. Still others, specialists in their lines, write only occasionally, but deal in a scholarly, exhaustive way with their subjects. The feature stories in the news columns are written generally by the stronger men on the regular staff of reporters. Some papers have regular feature men on whom they rely for human interest stories. And any newspaper man who can handle such stories well may be sure of a place at an advanced salary over the ordinary reporter. Feature stories are coming more and more into prominence on the large dailies because of their appeal to all classes of society, and the beginner, as soon as he becomes acquainted with his surroundings and gains dexterity in the handling of news, is advised to try his hand at the human interest type. It will pay, and success in this field will give a much desired prestige.

XX. CORRESPONDENCE STORIES

=285. Correspondence Work.=--In style and construction correspondence stories are not different from the preceding types of news stories. They are taken up for separate examination because their value as news is reckoned differently, because the transmission of them by mail, telegraph, and telephone is individual, and because so many reporters have to know how to handle correspondence work. Statistics show that 20,000 of the 25,000 newspapers in the United States are country papers; and it is from the reporters on these weeklies and small dailies that the big journals obtain most of their state and sectional news. In addition, every large daily has in the chief cities its representatives who, while often engaged in regular reporting, nevertheless do work of a correspondence nature. It is highly advisable, therefore, that every newspaper man, because probably some day he may have to do correspondence work, should know how to gather, write, and file such stories.

=286. Estimating the Worth of News.=--A correspondent is both like and unlike a regular reporter--like, in that in his district he is the paper's representative and upon him depends the accurate or inaccurate publication of news; unlike, in that he is comparatively free from supervision and direction, and hence must be discriminating in judging news. It is the correspondent especially who must have the proverbial "nose for news," who must know the difference between information that is nationally and merely locally interesting, who must be able to tell when a column story in a local paper is not worth a stick in a journal a hundred miles away. The best way to develop this discrimination in appreciation of news is to put oneself in imagination in the place of a resident of Boston or Atlanta or Chicago, where the paper is published, and ask oneself if such-and-such an item of news would be interesting were one reading the paper there. For example, one has just learned that Andrew Jones, the local blacksmith, has had an explosion of powder in his shop, causing a loss of a hundred dollars, with no insurance. One should ask oneself if this story would be worth while to readers who know nothing of Andrew Jones or the town where the accident has occurred. Manifestly not; and the story should not be sent. But if one learns that the accident was caused by the premature explosion of a bomb Jones was making for the destruction of a bridge on the Great Southern and Northern Railway, then the information is of more than local interest and should immediately be telegraphed with full details. Every correspondent should recognize such differences in news values, for papers pay, not according to the amount of copy they receive, but according to the amount they publish. And on the other hand, when correspondents telegraph too many useless items, editors sometimes reverse charges on the unwise writers.

=287. What Not to Send.=--The first thing to know in correspondence work, therefore, is what not to send. Never report merely local news, such as minor accidents, burglaries, and robberies; obituaries, marriages, entertainments, and court trials of little known personages; murders of obscure persons, unless unusual in some way or involved in mystery; county fairs, fraternal meetings, high-school commencements, local picnics and celebrations; crop and weather conditions, unless markedly abnormal, as frost in June; praise of individuals, hotels, amusement gardens, business enterprises generally; in fact, any press agent stories. Stories trespassing the limits of good taste or decency should of course be suppressed. Local gossip affecting the reputations of women, preachers, doctors, and professional men generally should be held until it can be verified. Any sensational news, indeed, should be carefully investigated before being put on the wires. But as the Associated Press says in a pamphlet of instructions to its employees:

A rumor of sensational news should not be held too
long for verification. If the rumor is not libelous
it should be sent immediately as a rumor, with the
addition that "the story is being investigated."
Should the news, however, involve persons or firms
in a charge that might be libelous, a note to the
editors, marked "Private, not for publication,"
should be bulletined that "such and such a story has
come to our attention and is being investigated."

While accuracy in The Associated Press despatches is
of the highest value and we would rather be beaten
than send out an untruthful statement, there is such
a thing as carrying the effort to secure accuracy so
far as to delay the perfectly proper announcement of
a rumor. So long as it is a rumor only it should be
announced as a rumor.

=288. What to Send.=--After cautioning the correspondent against sending stories containing merely local news, unfounded rumors, and details offensive to good taste, one must leave him to gather for himself what his paper wants. Big news, of course, is always good; but those special types of news, those little hobbies for which individual papers have characteristic weaknesses, one can learn only by studying the columns of the paper for which one corresponds. Some newspapers make specialties of freak news, such as odd actions of lightning, three-legged chickens, etc. Others will not consider such stories. One daily in America wants a bulletin of every death or injury resulting from celebrations of the Fourth of July. Another in a Middle Western state wants all sporting news in its state, particularly that concerning colleges and high schools. Still another, an Eastern paper this time, wants educational news--what the colleges are doing. Other kinds of information in which individual publications specialize are news of nationally prominent men and women, human interest love stories, odd local historical data, humorous or pathetic animal stories, golfing anecdotes, increase or decrease in liquor sales or the number of saloon licenses, etc.

=289. Conducting a Local Column.=--When conducting a column giving the news of a particular locality or neighborhood, the one thing not to write is that there is little news in the community this week or to-day. The readers of a column should not be allowed to suspect that one has little information to present. All about one are unnumbered sources of news if the correspondent can only find them--humorous incidents, reminiscences of old pioneers, stories of previous extremely wet, dry, hot, or cold seasons, recollections of Civil, Spanish American, and European War battles, etc. Such stories may be had for the asking and played up when there is "nothing doing this week." The use of good feature stories bearing directly on the life of the community will fill one's column, put money into one's pocket, and add readers to the subscription list of the paper.

=290. Stories by Mail.=--A correspondent's stories may be sent in any one of three ways--by mail, telephone, or telegraph. The mail should be used for any stories the time of publication of which is not important, such as feature stories, advance stories of speeches, elections, state celebrations, etc. One may use the mail for big stories, provided there is certainty of the letter reaching the office by 10:00 A.M. for afternoon papers and 8:00 P.M. for morning papers. If the news is big, it is best to put a special delivery stamp on the envelop and wire the paper of the story by mail. If there is doubt about mail reaching the paper promptly, use the telegraph every time. When sending photographs illustrating important news events, one should use special delivery stamps and wire the paper that the pictures are coming. In the case of advance speeches, where the manuscript is forwarded several days ahead, the reporter should specify not only the exact day, but the precise hour for release of the speech, and at the time stated he should wire definite release,--that the address has been given, the speaker beginning at such and such an hour. The necessity of keeping close future books and of keeping the state or telegraph editor in intimate touch by mail with coming events may be urged upon all correspondents. A single event properly played up by a skillful correspondent may be made productive, before its occurrence, of three or four attractive mail stories. And it is the quantity of such stories that adds to the reporter's much desired revenue.

=291. Stories by Telephone.=--The telephone is used when the mails are too slow or a telegraph office is not convenient, or when there is need of getting into personal communication with the office. In using the telephone one caution only may be given, that the correspondent should never call up the state editor with merely a jumble of facts at hand. Long-distance messages are costly and editors watch all calls closely in an effort to reduce tolls to a minimum. If possible, the correspondent should have his story written--certainly he should have it sketched on paper--before calling the office, so that he may dictate his news in the shortest possible time.

=292. Stories by Telegraph.=--The telegraph is for stories demanding immediacy of print, and certain rules govern their handling that every correspondent should know. Suppose at six o'clock some afternoon an automobile owned and driven by Otto Thomson, receiving teller for the local Commercial Bank, skids over a slippery, tar-covered pavement into a telegraph pole on one of the main streets of the town, killing him and severely injuring two women in the car. What should the correspondent do in such a case? The accident is good for a half-column in _The Herald_, the local morning daily, but because Thomson was only moderately prominent, one is doubtful if it is worth much in _The World_, the great daily a hundred miles away. After considering all the details, however,--Thomson's position locally and the fact that the city may be held liable for the excess of tar at a dangerous turn in the streets,--the reporter may conclude that the story is worth four hundred words. He is still doubtful, however, whether the city paper will consider it worth publishing. His message, therefore,--technically known as a "query"--should be:

Otto Thomson, receiving teller Commercial Bank,
killed at six P.M. by automobile skidding into
telegraph pole. Two women in car injured. Four
hundred. 8:35 P.M. A. D. Anderson

This means that the correspondent is prepared to wire a 400-word story about the accidental death of Otto Thomson. It tells, too, that the query was filed at 8:35, so that blame may be placed if delivery is delayed. There is no need to ask if the paper wants further details or how much it wants. The message itself is an inquiry. One other important point about it is that it bulletins the news. It is not a "blind" query stating that "a prominent citizen has been killed" or that "a regrettable tragedy has occurred." It gives the facts concisely, so that the editor, if he wishes, may publish them immediately and may decide whether additional details are worth while.

=293. Waiting for the Reply.=--While the correspondent is waiting for the reply, he should begin his story and, if possible, have it ready by the time the dispatch comes. The most important details should be placed first, of course, so that if the state editor asks for fewer than four hundred words, the correspondent will have to kill only the last paragraph or so and send the first part of the story as originally written. There is no need of skeletonizing the story to lessen telegraphic charges: that is, of omitting _the's_, _a's_, _an's_, _is's_, etc. The small amount saved in this way is more than offset by the additional time and cost of editing in the office.

=294. The Reply.=--In fifteen or twenty minutes, or perhaps a half-hour, a reply will come, reading, say, "Rush three hundred banker's death." This means that the correspondent must keep his story within three hundred words,--an injunction which he must observe strictly. Woe to the self-confident writer who sends five hundred words when three hundred have been ordered. He will receive a prompt reprimand for his first offense and probable discharge for the second. If, however, he has used his time wisely since sending the query and has written his story rightly, he will have no trouble in lopping off the final paragraph and putting the three hundred words on the wire within a few minutes after receipt of the order.

=295. No Reply.=--The correspondent need not be surprised or chagrined, however, if no reply comes,--the paper's silence meaning that the story is not wanted. The accident may have been covered by one of the regular news bureaus--the Associated Press, the United Press, or possibly a local news-gathering organization. Or the bulletin itself may have been all the paper wanted,--due credit and pay for which the correspondent will receive at the end of the month. Or the story may have been crowded out by news of greater importance. This last reason is a very possible one, which every correspondent should consider whenever a story breaks. The space value of a paper's columns doubles and quadruples as press time approaches,--so that a story which would be given generous space if received at eight o'clock may be thrown into the wastebasket if received four hours later.

=296. Hours for Filing.=--The extreme hours for filing dispatches to catch the various editions are worth noting and remembering. For an afternoon paper the story should be in the hands of the telegraph operator not later than 9:00 A.M. for the noon edition, 12:00 M. for the three o'clock, and 2:00 P.M. for the five o'clock edition. If the news is extraordinary--big enough to justify ripping open the front page--it may be filed as late as 2:30 P.M., though the columns of an afternoon paper are practically closed to correspondents after 12:30 or 1:00 P.M. Any news occurring after 2:30 P.M. should be filed as early as possible, but should be marked N. P. R. (night press rate), so that it will be sent after 6:00 P.M., when telegraphic charges are smaller. For a morning paper news may be filed as late as 2:00 A.M., though the columns are practically closed to correspondents after midnight.

=297. Big News.=--When big or unusual news breaks,--news about which there is no doubt of the general interest,--the correspondent should bulletin a lead immediately, with the probable length of the story and the time of filing affixed. Thus:

Marietta, Ga., Aug. 17.--Leo M. Frank, whom the
Georgia courts declared guilty of the murder of
fourteen-year-old Mary Phagan of Marietta, was
lynched two miles from here at an early hour this
morning. Frank was brought in an automobile to
Marietta by a band of twenty-five masked men who
stormed the Milledgeville prison farm shortly after
midnight. Two thousand. 8:35. Sherman

Then--particularly if the hour is nearing press time--the correspondent should follow as rapidly as possible with instalments of the detailed story, without waiting for a reply to the bulletin lead. When there is doubt about the length, editors would rather have one not take chances on delaying the news,--would rather have too much of a story than too little. Besides, a writer cannot get further than the second or third instalment before specific orders will arrive from the paper.

=298. The Detailed Story.=--After the lead, the details follow as in a normal story, the individual instalments being given the operator as fast as he can take them, each one marked "More" except the last, which is marked "30." Thus the continuation of the bulletin lead of the Frank lynching just given would be:

Not one of the armed prison guards, according to the
best information now obtainable, raised a hand to
prevent the mob accomplishing its purpose. Frank was
taken from his cell and rushed to a spot previously
chosen for the lynching, about a hundred miles from
the prison. Not a soul, it is said, knew positively
whether the men were his friends or his enemies
until the lifeless body was discovered this morning.
More. 8:45 P. M. Sherman

Then the final instalment might read:

The rope placed around Frank's neck was tied in such
a way as to reopen the wound caused some weeks ago
when a fellow prisoner attempted to kill him by
cutting his throat. Loss of blood from the re-opened
wound no doubt would have caused his death had he
not strangled. Thirty. 9:15. Sherman

The "thirty" is the telegrapher's signal indicating the completion of the story.

=299. Sporting News.=--In handling sporting news a few specific instructions are needful, the first being the necessity of absolute impartiality in all controversies. Local rival sportsmen in their keen desire to win are continually breeding quarrels, which frequently make it difficult for the observer not to be biased; but the correspondent must be careful to present simple facts only, without editorializing. The need of filing all afternoon scores by 7:30 P.M., with 8:00 P.M. as the outside limit, should also be noted. Morning papers put their sporting news on inside pages and must make up the forms early. There is need of the utmost caution in having the news correct, particularly the box scores of baseball games, which have an unhappy way of failing to balance when one compares individual scores with the totals. In all contests where a seeming new record has been made, the correspondent should be sure of the record before telegraphing it as such. If there is the slightest doubt, report it as "what is said to be a record." Finally, one should be cautioned against reporting mere high-school contests, boxing bouts between local men, and other sporting news possessing limited interest only.

=300. General Instructions.=--In conclusion, a few general instructions may be given for the guidance of correspondents:

1. When forwarding time stories, advance manuscript of speeches, cuts, etc., send by mail. The express companies do not deliver at night.

2. In telegrams spell out round numbers; and mark the beginning of speeches by the word _quote_, and the end by _end quote_.

3. Keep the telegraph companies informed always of your street address and telephone number. It is well also to maintain friendly relations with the operators. Frequently they can be of valuable service to a correspondent.

4. Finish all incomplete stories. It sometimes happens that one will wire a dispatch of the beginning of a seeming big fire or a seeming great murder mystery, which the paper will feature as important news, but which later will prove of no worth. Such stories should be cleared up and the results made known to avoid keeping the paper in a quandary over the outcome.

5. When reporting fires, accidents, disasters, etc., locate the scene as accurately as possible. This is sometimes accomplished by reference to well-known buildings or landmarks, in addition to the exact street location.

6. When a big story breaks, go after it, no matter if there is need of incurring expense. Papers will stand any reasonable expense for valuable news.

7. Never forget the worth of sending time. Every minute is valuable.

8. Until you have received your first check, clip and keep every story printed. Most papers keep their own accounts with correspondents, but some require them to send in at the end of each month their "string:" that is, all their stories pasted together end to end. Payment is then made on the basis of the number of columns, the rates varying from $2 to $7 a column of 1500 words.