Part 3 — TYPES OF STORIES (continued 2)
Reading edition
The Bushwick team showed good sportsmanship by failing to enter a protest when it was alleged that the final whistle was blown ten seconds too soon. The matter was put before Mr. Aldinger, the referee, who decided the game officially ended.
Boys' High came through with a strong finish. At the opening of the game it scored four points before Bushwick finally entered the scoring column. The game was bitterly fought until the end of the first half, which found Boys' High holding an average of 6 to 4.
In the second half Bushwick launched an attack that soon placed it in front by a score of 15 to 9. Boys' High then carried the fight into the enemy territory, and, with successive field goals by Bolotovsky, Gindee and Bonoff, the score was tied at 15-all.
The score then seesawed until Bolotovsky shot the winning point with a free goal from the foul line.
The line-up follows:
BOYS' HIGH BUSHWICK
Fd.g Fl.g. P. Fd.g Fl.g. P.
Bolotovsky, rf 4 4 12 Robinson, rf 2 0 4
Gindee, lf 1 0 2 Edelstein, lf 2 3 7
Bonoff, c 2 0 4 Cherry, c 3 0 6
Brown, rg 0 0 0 Dorff, rg 0 0 0
Ratner, lg 0 0 0 Billig, lg 0 0 0
Totals 7 4 18 Totals 7 3 17
Referee—Aldinger, H. S. of Commerce. Time of halves, 15 minutes each.[29]
In reporting a basket-ball game it is difficult to record the plays accurately unless one knows the contestants or they are numbered. The men shift their positions too quickly and constantly. To be accurate, the reporter should have a seat next to the scorer or else between two students or friends of the opposing players, so that whichever side makes a basket or an error, the reporter can get the player's name instantly.
241. Track.—Reporting a track meet is easier than baseball, football, or basket-ball since the events are run off slowly and all the results are announced to the grandstand. The following story of the 1917 meet of the Intercollegiate Association of America at Philadelphia is a good illustration:
RECORDS MADE AT INDOOR MEET
Cornell and Yale, as usual, shared the top honors at the third annual indoor track and field meet of the Intercollegiate Association of America, held last night before a crowd of 6,000 persons at the Commercial Museum in this city. The feature event of the early part of the program was a three-lap relay race between the Ithacans, Pennsylvania and State College. Crim, who ran anchor for Cornell over the last 538 yards, beat Scudder, of Penn, by an inch, the Quaker falling under the tape exhausted. In this event Cornell hung up a new record for the collegiate indoor meets by covering the three laps in four minutes, twenty seconds, two seconds better than last year, when Penn won.
In the six-lap relay race, where each of the men ran 1056 yards, Yale romped home an easy winner, John Overton beating Marion Shields, of Penn State, with yards to spare. Pennsylvania, the third team entered, finished in that position.
Yale sent an army of star timber-toppers down for the fifty-yard high hurdle event. John V. Farwell, captain of the Eli's track team, equaled the American amateur indoor record by covering the distance in seven seconds.
Richards, of Cornell, won individual honors in the sixteen-pound shot-put with a throw of 42 feet, 83/10 inches, while Cornell's team average was 40 feet, 23/10 inches.
The Cornell entries in the late events swept everything before them. Coach Jack Moakley's long-distance runners won the twelve-lap relay in the fast time of 22 minutes, 72/5 seconds, beating last year's record of 23 minutes, 134/5 seconds. The Ithacans also cleaned up in the running broad jump with a team average of 20 feet, 9 and 1/16 inches. Culbertson carried off the individual honors with a leap of 21 feet, 3 and 3/4 inches.
The graduate relay race proved the most interesting event on the card. When the anchor men of Penn, Dartmouth, and Cornell started on the last four laps Riley, of Dartmouth, was leading "Ted" Meredith by fifteen yards, with Caldwell, the former Ithacan, trailing five yards in the rear of Meredith. Penn's former captain brought the crowd to its feet by overtaking Riley in the last ten yards. No time was taken. Summaries:
Three-lap relay race—Won by Cornell (Shelton, Windnagle, Acheson, Crim); second, Penn (Lennon, Walker, Dorsey, Scudder); third, Penn State (Whiting, Krall, Enoch, Cottom). Time, 4 min., 20 sec. (New indoor collegiate record).
50-yard hurdles—Won by Yale (Rodman, Davis, Offutt and Farwell), 14 points; second, Cornell (J. M. Watt, Cleminshaw, Pratt and Elsas), 10 points; third, Princeton (Crawford, H. R. Watt, Erdman, and Buzby), 6 points.
Six-lap relay—Won by Yale (Rolfe, Ireland, Cooper and Overton); second, Penn State (Shea, Foster, Whiting and Shields); third, Pennsylvania (Norriss, Price, Scudder and Humphreys). Time, 9 min., 594/5 sec.
16-pound shot-put—Won by Cornell (Richards, 42 ft. 83/10 in.; Gillies, 39 ft. 111/2 in.; Howell, 41 ft. 5 in.; Schoof, 36 ft. 107/8 in.), team average, 40 ft. 23/10 in.; second, Princeton (Sinclaire, 44 ft. 91/2 in.; Cleveland 41 ft. 13/8 in.; Nourse, 34 ft. 8 in.; Ginnert 35 ft. 11/4 in.), team average, 38 ft. 68/10 in.; third, Penn (Wray, 30 ft. 101/4 in.; Paul, 32 ft. 33/4 in.; Royer, 31 ft. 55/8 in.; Swann, 32 ft. 23/4 in.), team average, 31 ft. 65/10 in.
Running broad jump—Won by Cornell (Culbertson, 21 ft. 33/4 in.; Richards, 21 ft. 1/2 in.; Shackelton, 20 ft. 101/2 in.; Harrison, 19 ft. 91/2 in.), team average, 20 ft. 91/16 in.; second, Pennsylvania (Jones, 20 ft. 103/4 in.; Bertolet, 20 ft. 7 in.; Buckholtz, 20 ft. 1/2 in.; Walter 19 ft. 9 in.), team average, 20 ft. 313/16 in. No third team.[30]
242. Golf.—In reporting golf matches probably the best method is to lead with rather a full summary—a half-dozen paragraphs if necessary—telling the results, the character of the playing, the kind of weather, the condition of the links, and something about the competitors, then to follow with a detailed story of the game hole by hole. In the following story note that the length, the par, and the relative standing of the players is given on each hole. Note too that a numerical summary is made every nine holes.
EVANS WINS GREAT MATCH
Charles Evans, Jr., of the Edgewater Golf Club, twice winner of the Western amateur golf championship, to-day defeated Ned Sawyer of the Wheaton Golf Club 2 and 1 in the semi-final match for the great All-Western title. To-morrow Evans will meet in the 36-hole finals James Standish, Jr., of the Detroit Golf Club, whom he defeated for the same title last year at the Kent Country Club.
Standish won his way into the finals by defeating H. P. Bingham, of the Mayfield Club, to-day in a lop-sided contest, the match ending on the thirtieth green, 7 and 6.
The Evans-Sawyer duel to-day was a grueling struggle and from all points one of the greatest in the history of the Western classic. It sparkled like carbonated water as compared with the rather flat matches of yesterday.
Fought in balmy weather under almost perfect conditions, the contest afforded, from start to finish, plenty of thrills to the gallery of 2,000 followers. Old timers conceded it the best match ever fought on Ohio soil. Each player had 74 in the morning, while Evans had approximately 72 in the afternoon.
Fourteen of the thirty-five holes were won under par figures, ten were won at par, and two were ties under par, leaving only two holes at which both players were really ragged.
Sawyer shot remarkably fine golf in the out round of the morning and at the tenth hole was 4 up, but from this point Evans began to whittle down the lead. Although Chick got on even terms four times, it was not until the sixteenth hole in the afternoon that he led, and the next hole saw him winner.
The score by holes follows:
Scores by Holes
Hole 1 (385 yds., par 4). Sawyer pulled his drive into a trap from which he dug only to drop into another at the left of the green. His chip shot hit the bank and he was just on the green in 4. Evans was 60 feet from the pin on his second, but his weak approach putt gave him a 5. Sawyer took three putts and counted a 7 for the first hole. Evans 1 up.
Hole 2 (310 yds., par 4). Evans pulled his tee shot, but got a fair lie. His approach pitch was short. Sawyer got 250 yards on his drive, pitched eight feet short, and holed an uphill putt for a win, 3-4. All square.
Hole 3 (445 yds., par 5). Two wonderful wooden shots landed Sawyer eight feet from the pin, where he missed his putt for a 3 and kicked the ball in for a 4, one under par. Evans pulled his drive to the rough from which he made a woeful pull with his cleek to the weeds guarding the right of the fairway. He was 20 yards short of the green on his third and lost, 5-4. Sawyer 1 up.
Hole 4 (170 yds., par 3). This hole was halved in 3, the features being Sawyer's 30-foot, downhill putt and Chick's miss of a two-foot putt. Sawyer 1 up.
Hole 5 (325 yds., par 4). Evans was wild again from the tee, his drive being sliced to the brook where he got a lie on the slaty bottom. He banged out a high shot with his niblick, but went over the green to the rough and was short on his return. Sawyer was fifteen feet from the hole on his second and won, 4-5. Sawyer 2 up.
Hole 6 (515 yds., par 5). From the high sixth tee Evans pulled a low drive to the trees. He made a great out with his mashie, being lucky in escaping the trees. Sawyer lined out two of his regulation wooden shots and was twelve feet from the flag on his second. Evans heeled his long mashie shot to the right of the green, from which he missed his four and conceded the hole, Sawyer being dead in 3. Sawyer 3 up.
Hole 7 (310 yds., par 4). Evans left his unruly driver in the bag and played a cleek shot for the seventh hole, Sawyer outdriving him forty yards. Chick's pitch took a bad bound, but stopped eight feet from the hole. Sawyer's pitch ran entirely across the green. Evans's putt just trickled into the cup, winning for him, 3-4. Sawyer 2 up.
Hole 8 (145 yds., par 3). Both pitched to the green. Sawyer putted dead and laid Evans a dead stymie. In attempting the five-foot slanting putt, Chick knocked Sawyer's ball into the hole, losing 2-4. Sawyer 3 up.
Hole 9 (435 yds., par 5). Both got straight drives into a driving wind at the long ninth. Two perfectly played iron shots met with unmerited punishment, both balls touching the top of the hill and running over the fast green into a trap. Both missed rainbow putts for fours and halved in 5. Sawyer 3 up at the turn.
Cards:
Evans . . . 5 4 5 3 5 5 3 4 5—39
Sawyer . . . 7 3 4 3 4 4 4 2 5—36
243. Tennis.—In reporting tennis matches one may use the following as an acceptable guide. The summary by sets at the end of the story in all probability was obtained from the scorer.
JOHNSTON WINS CHAMPIONSHIP
William M. Johnston inscribed his name upon the classic national tennis singles championship most impressively yesterday, using a forehand stroke that left no dispute as to his right to the title. The young player, who two seasons ago was hailed as the successor to Maurice E. McLoughlin, made good the prediction by the score of 1-6, 6-0, 7-5, 10-8, while thousands cheered the vanquished McLoughlin and the new holder of the highest honors of the American courts. It was a memorable battle and an inspiring scene at the climax on the field of the West Side Tennis Club, at Forest Hills, L.I., when the two men fighting for a sporting honor, and fighting with all that was in them, almost collapsed at the end, and hoisted on the shoulders of their comrades, with the cheers of the 7,000 spectators ringing in their ears, were carried from the field.
While the homage paid to Johnston for winning one of the greatest matches the All Comers' tournament has ever known in its thirty-five years was sincere and true, still on all sides there was regret that McLoughlin, the hero who overwhelmed Norman E. Brooks and the late Anthony F. Wilding in the great Davis Cup matches last year, would not have the permanent possession of the All Comers' Cup on which his name is twice inscribed.
It was not the same McLoughlin who stood in the court yesterday that overwhelmed the famous Australasians a year ago. Time had taken something from his game, and as ever youth must be served. In this instance it fairly leaped to its reward. Except for the first set and the briefest of intervals thereafter, Johnston was always the master of his mighty adversary. He knew the game of his opponent, and as in the ancient days when Greek met Greek, it was the dynamic power, resourcefulness, and stroke of Californian against Californian, with no quarter asked or given. Two months before the two had played for the Exposition championship at San Francisco, and at that time McLoughlin had carried the match and title after five of the hardest sets which the tournament produced. Then "The Comet" was on his old field of asphalt with the ball bounding so high that he could bring off his overhanders and where such a thing as ground strokes were unknown.
Probably never in all the years of the historic All Comers has a player displayed such phenomenal command of the ball with a forehand stroke. There were many competent judges present yesterday who declared that its equal was not to be found on the courts anywhere....
It was a stroke that stood the test, for no less than eight times in the fourth set was Johnston within a point of claiming the All Comers as his own when McLoughlin made thrilling stands as of old, and pushed the victory on a little further. When he moved up to the net in the ever-flashing rallies all the power and certainty of Johnston's forehand came into action. Alert, with the eye of an eagle that saw every move and the flight of the ball as McLoughlin drove it at him with all his might, the younger player whipped the returns into the corners. He was like a cat on his feet, quick and sure, never making a false move. There were times when he nipped the best drives that the Comet sent over, and turned them back for passes. Repeatedly McLoughlin overhanded the ball for what to him seemed a certain ace, so that he relaxed and dropped his racquet to rest, as if the point were finished. Johnston made his recovery, however, and sending the ball back found McLoughlin off his guard and so scored the point.
The cross volleys into the corners, the spots that had proved so profitable against Williams on the previous day, were the chief bit of manœuvring that electrified the crowd. As Johnston played it, it was as irresistible as trying to check the march of time. He sent the ball into the left-hand corner of McLoughlin's court like a bolt of chain lightning. In order to play the ball with any success McLoughlin usually danced around it for a forehand shot, which put him wide of the court. Calmly stepping in to meet it, Johnston crossed with ever-increasing pace into the opposite corner. It was run, run, run for McLoughlin if he wanted the ball. He was on the defensive, and it was a position, as in all of his matches, in which he does not scintillate. So relentlessly was the younger player forcing the former champion and veteran that, even when he had glowing opportunities to make the point, McLoughlin put his racquet to the ball too soon, and so piled up a total of 42 nets and 38 outs, as compared to 37 nets and 26 outs for his rival. That was chiefly where the difference stood, for on actual earned points by placement Johnston only had a tally of 53 to 51 for the Comet....
First Set
Points Games
Johnston 2 0 3 0 5 4 2—16 1
McLoughlin 4 4 5 4 3 6 4—30 6
Aces Places Nets Outs Double Faults
Johnston 6 8 11 12 6
McLoughlin 9 10 9 7 1
Second Set
Points Games
Johnston 4 4 5 4 6 4 — 27 6
McLoughlin 2 2 3 0 4 0 — 11 0
Aces Places Nets Outs Double Faults
Johnston 3 8 3 4 0
McLoughlin[31] 3 2 5 6 1
244. Boxing Matches.—News stories of boxing matches are but a combination of the methods of writing football games and golf matches. The first part of the story of a boxing contest should be a full general account of the fight, the fighters, the character of the boxing, the weight, height, and reach of the pugilists, their methods of attack and defense, the crowd, total and individual receipts, the exact time of the beginning and end of the fight, etc. The second part, like the golf report, should be a detailed running story of the fight by rounds. The following story of the Willard-Moran match at New York in 1915 may be examined as an example:
WILLARD WINS ON POINTS
Jess Willard, the heavyweight champion pugilist of the world, hammered and pounded Frank Moran of Pittsburgh for ten rounds in crowded Madison Square Garden last night, but with his advantage of fifty pounds in weight, six inches in height, and six inches in reach, the Herculean Kansan could not knock out the courageous Pittsburgh boxer.
Willard had every advantage throughout the bout except one flash in the seventh round, when Moran, with teeth set and the fire of anger in his eye, made a wonderful rally and showered Willard's jaw with hard blows just before the bell sounded.
The champion hit Moran hard enough and often enough to knock out half a dozen men, and after the bout he said that the only reason he was forced to let up and not use his famous righthand punch was because he broke his right hand in the second round and was afraid to hit hard after that. It was in whipping a vicious uppercut for the chin that Willard smashed the hand against Moran's elbow. At the time, Moran was groggy, and although the seconds in the champion's corner yelled for him to tear in, Willard had to stand back.
When the champion's glove was removed after the bout, the hand was badly swollen, and he was rushed away from the Garden to be attended by a surgeon.
The crowd that witnessed the bout was the largest ever seen at a glove contest here. The Garden from the floor to the upper gallery was jammed until there was hardly room to stand. Although women spectators were encouraged to see the bout, few responded, not more than 200 being seen in the arena boxes. Well-known men in all walks of New York life, however, were grouped about in evening clothes, and gave the boxing match as much tone as a night at the opera. A few of the women spectators wore evening clothes, but the greater part of them were clad in the smart new spring suits which fill all the city's finery shops.
Financially the bout was a huge success and a tribute to the enterprise of the Western promoter, Tex Rickard. The receipts amounted to $150,000. Of this Willard got $52,600, including $5,100 for his share of the motion pictures. Moran got $23,500 for his share. It was an enormous remuneration for both men for their forty minutes in the ring.
This first appearance of the new champion in the ring since his defeat of Johnson in Havana a year ago had set the town talking, and prominent men in New York and other cities did not hesitate to pay $25 a seat to see the bout. As Willard was such an over-ruling favorite the betting was perhaps the lightest ever known in a bout in which a champion has taken part....
It was 9:40 o'clock when Willard hopped into the ring and got a big cheer. He was soon followed by Moran, who had even a greater reception. While the two contestants were waiting nervously in their corners the announcer, Joe Humphries, had the proudest moment of his career when he gathered the great figures of the fistic world into the same ring. Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, Kid McCoy, and John L. Sullivan all stood together and shook hands. The reception to John L. must have made the white-haired old man's heart warm, for the old timers in the crowd who remembered when he could beat anything in the ring cheered him until they were hoarse.
In the champion's corner were Tom Jones, Walter Monahan, and Jack Hemple. In Moran's corner were Willie Lewis, Bill McKinnon, and Frank Kendall. Willard's weight was a big surprise. When he stripped off his green bathrobe the champion weighed 259 pounds, which was ten pounds more than his handlers said he weighed and twenty pounds more than when he defeated Johnson in Cuba. It was just 9:55 when "Old Eagle Eye" Charley White called the men to the center of the ring and said, "Be good, boys, and break when I tell you." ...
THE FIGHT BY ROUNDS
First Round
The men met in the center of the ring. Willard blocked Moran's left to the head and they clinched. Willard missed a right and left that slid off Moran's shoulder. Willard landed lightly with the left to Moran's face and followed with two more. A left jab was all that Willard used in the first few moments. Then Moran landed a left to Willard's chest, and rushing in close tried to get to his jaw with two blows, but failed. Moran was wary and covered up as he came in on Willard. He also missed a left swing that was wild by several inches. Willard sent a left to Moran's head that jarred the challenger, and he tried to come back with blows to Willard's head, but failed. Moran could not reach the jaw of the champion. Willard missed a right lead, Moran stepping in close and evading the blow. One blow that Willard landed clean, a left to the head, made Moran wary. Moran could not get any blows to Willard's face.
Second Round
Willard met Moran three-quarters of the way over the ring and they clinched. Moran landed a left to Willard's head after they broke and then they milled in the center of the ring, neither doing any particular damage. They were chary of doing work for the next several seconds, Willard waiting to have Moran lead. Willard pushed aside Moran's guard and led with a left to the head which was blocked. Willard forced Moran around the ring and battered him on the head with rights and lefts. The challenger was almost pushed through the ropes. Moran missed a left lead that was blocked by Willard. Moran feinted and made a wild hay-making swing that missed. He then struck one blow to Willard's chest that had little force behind it. Moran led with his left and reached Willard's stomach, but the champion did not mind the blow seriously. Two right swings by Moran pounded on Willard's shoulders and the champion retaliated with a light left jab to the face. Both were perspiring from the intense heat of the big arc lights. Willard seemed to toy with Moran in this round, not exerting himself to take the aggressive....[32]
245. The Unwholesome in Boxing Matches.—One caution should be given in writing about boxing contests,—the need of presenting the wholesome rather than the unwholesome side. A report of a bout may be written in such a way as to appeal to the barbaric nature of one's readers, to make them revel in the mere drawing of blood rather than in the skill, the dexterity, the generalship of the contestants. The difference is in the reporter's point of view and depends not so much upon accuracy of presentation as upon his purpose to choose those wholesome details that have been successful in retaining pugilism as an American sport despite its many undoubted accompanying evils. In the following extract, for instance, the appeal is unhealthful; it savors rather of the Spanish bull-ring than of a legal sport in the United States:
What a fight it was! One worthy of Mars himself! The stage setting was complete to the minutest detail. There had been quite enough smashed noses in the preliminaries to whet the appetite for action to its keenest edge. And the main event was put on so quickly after the semi-final that this lust for battle had no chance to cool. Moran led with a snappy left hook that drew blood from Coffey's nose. With this first faint scarlet trickle the gallery gods went wild. A second quick jab gashed an old scar above Jim's left cheekbone and covered his face with blood, to the delight of Frank's friends in the center box.
246. Automobile Races.—Stories of automobile races follow closely the types of sporting news stories already examined. The following may be taken as an illustration:
NEW WORLD'S RECORD BY RESTA
The Results
Driver Time Average
Resta 58:54 102.85
Cooper 59:39 101.41
Burman 61:22 98.63
Oldfield Flagged
Speedway Park, Aug. 7.—(Special).—The world's 100-mile speed championship was won by a hood this afternoon—the hood of Dario Resta's wonderful Peugeot.
Cheers from 15,000 throats drowned the roar of the engines as the Resta Peugeot and Earl Cooper's Stutz wound up a race unparalleled for thrills and dashed side by side up the home stretch and over the finish line. Resta won $20,000.
Resta smashed Porporato's record of 99.05 miles an hour on the Chicago speedway by driving the 100 miles at an average speed of 102.85 miles an hour.
Through the whole hundred miles, most of which were reeled off at the record breaking clip of 104.6 miles an hour, the two leaders were seldom separated by more than a car length.
Tire trouble early in the race put Oldfield in his Delage and Burman in his Peugeot out of running. They trailed along in a tremendous effort to overcome the handicap, but trailers they remained.
Once, on the thirty-sixth lap, it seemed that Resta had lost. A tire went bad and he was forced to stop. But in just 26 seconds he was on his way again.
By that time Cooper had flitted far in the lead—so far that had he not suffered a similar mishap himself a few laps later, the game Italian never could have overtaken him. Resta was again in the lead when Cooper's bad tire was replaced.
The cars lined up for the trial lap at 3:30, Oldfield starting first. A roar of cheers from the grandstand greeted Earl Cooper in his white Stutz as he started on the initial parade around the track.
Fred J. Wagner, the man with the red flag, stood astride the tape and started the cars on their flying race at 3:44 P.M.
The Race by Laps
First Lap.—Resta led in the first lap, Cooper second, Burman third, with Oldfield trailing.
Second Lap.—On the second lap Resta stretched his lead, Cooper closed up on him, only a car's length behind; Burman came third, with Oldfield fourth, a wide interval separating Burman and Oldfield from the leading contestants.
Third Lap.—Resta was leading, with Cooper close behind, and Burman third. Oldfield brought up the rear.[33]...
247. Billiards.—In billiard matches the chief thing to note, in addition to points already mentioned in other sporting news stories, is the scoring of the individual runs. If it is necessary to write up the individual innings, the same style is used as indicated in golf and racing stories.
HOPPE OUTPLAYS YAMADA
Boston, Oct. 21.—Willie Hoppe, the champion, led Koji Yamada, his Japanese challenger, 1,000 to 743 points at the close of their second night's play for the 14.1 balkline billiard championship at Convention Hall this evening. Yamada's total to-night was 396. As was the case last night, both men played carefully, which accounted for the long time necessary to finish the game.
Hoppe's high run was 104, and came late in the contest, his average being 19 6-26. Yamada's best run was 82, and as it came soon after a run of 75, it enabled him to take the lead from the American for the first time in the match. His average was 13 22-25.
Yamada in the first half of the game gave a pleasing display in which for the first time he showed brilliancy at the masse. Hoppe was not up to form during the early innings and got his points only by hard struggle. Both players had a good deal of open table shooting to do. The score:
Hoppe—49, 30, 2, 31, 3, 0, 22, 5, 23, 24, 4, 0, 8, 0, 17, 7, 55, 0, 44, 11, 104, 31, 0, 24, 5, 7—500. Average, 19 6-26.
Yamada—9, 2, 1, 45, 30, 0, 75, 0, 45, 4, 2, 82, 0, 1, 31, 1, 0, 0, 9, 2, 3, 0, 1, 7, 3—347. Average, 13 22-25.[34]
248. Obtaining Information.—In reporting games and contests one will have little difficulty in obtaining all needed information. Tickets are provided gratis and admit always to the best seats, known as the press seats, or the press-box, where all the newspaper men are grouped together. If the contest is an outdoor meet, the press-box is usually on the top of the bleachers. Here are installed telegraph and telephone wires, the papers often having private wires from their offices to the field. If the wires have not been installed and it is necessary to report between quarters or halves, or inning by inning, one should have the local telegraph company provide at least two messengers to take the bulletins as fast as one writes them. And one's notes should be so taken that the bulletins may be given the messengers within a few seconds after it is possible to report.
249. Personal Opinion in Sporting Stories.—On page 165 mention was made of four kinds of sporting news stories, and the reader's attention was called to the fact that three of the four—those dealing with athletic events before their occurrence, those dealing with the same events afterward, and those relating to sports in general—vary somewhat from the normal type of newspaper story. This variance lies in the fact that the three are hybrids, partaking of the nature of both the pure news story and the editorial. In an earlier chapter we have seen that the purpose of the news story is to present news; of the editorial, to interpret. We have seen that the avowed purpose of the editorial is to influence opinion. And so with these three types. They may be either presenters or interpreters of sporting news, or both. In the following story the writer is bent on telling the lineup of the Michigan team for the game against Cornell, the condition of the men, etc., but he is also bent on proving to his readers that Michigan has a chance to win,—which makes his story half editorial and half news.
MICHIGAN HAS A CHANCE
Ann Arbor, Mich., Nov. 5.—(Special).—We might lead this story with something original and say that both teams were awaiting the whistle. Instead, we will be unique and assert that Michigan has a chance to win.
A victory over Cornell would make a success of a season that has a good start toward being a failure. Michigan's chance for victory depends on its line. There is grave doubt in the minds of some that Michigan has a line. Yost believes it has, because he has seen his center, his two guards, and his two tackles charge and block in practice. He hasn't seen them do anything in games but look sick. But he knows they can do something else and he is wondering if to-morrow will be the day when they prove it to the public and to Cornell.
If the Michigan line should play tomorrow as it played against the Aggies and against Syracuse, the best back field in the land would be null and void. But if the Michigan line comes to life, performs as it has done when Assistant Coaches Schultz, Almendinger and Raynsford were scrimmaging against it and using all the words they knew as lashes to drive it to action, then Cornell will find itself up against the toughest foe it has faced this year.
Yost admits he has a good back field. His combination of one senior, one junior and one sophomore—Catlett, Maulbetsch and Smith—would, he believes, gain acres of ground against any team in the country if the line would give them half a chance.
Smith, to be sure, is in bad shape. He is going to start the game, but few expect him to last through. Bay City gave him to Michigan, and before he was hurt he showed enough to convince his coach that he has the makings of another Galt.
He is of the versatile type, and besides being a good ground gainer himself, he is of great assistance as an interferer and a handy man on defense. He backs up the line when the other side has the ball. At present almost everything ails him, save possibly barber's itch and the h. and m. disease that helped make Niles famous.
Maulbetsch, Yost says, is a better defensive man than last year. As for his plunging prowess, he is probably just as classy as ever, but a man can't plunge very far when two or three opposing linemen are sitting on him, as they were in the M. A. C. and Syracuse games.
Catlett is a streak of speed, and since this is his third year of varsity football, he is playing more intelligently than ever. Roehm, the quarterback, was one of Hughitt's understudies last season. He is light, but fast and willing.
Thus in the back field we have a good all round man, a wonderful line plunger, a speed demon, and an agile, hard worker. All of which assets won't be worth a yesterday's transfer unless the line holds....[35]
250. Advance Stories.—The details which one may include in advance stories of athletic meets are innumerable. Some of the more important particulars, however, are predictions of the outcome, the effect of the contest on future events or on the rank of the teams, names of the players and the officials, absence of important men, opinions of the men, their trainers, or their followers, weak spots in their play, local or national interest, time and place of the contest, ways of reaching the field or grounds,—in fact, any details that will interest one's readers in the approaching game. Such preliminary writeups require good reporters—men who can observe closely and analyze carefully, and hence can give their readers reasonable predictions of the success of the teams in which they are interested. The following may be taken as a typical preliminary story:
PROMINENT OFFICIALS AT GAME TO-DAY
Facts About To-day's Football Game
Teams—Army and Navy.
Place—Polo Grounds.
Time—2 p.m.
Corps of Cadets and Brigade of Midshipmen march on the field—1 to 1.30 p.m.
Weather Forecast—Fair and warm; rain late in the afternoon or night.
Routes to the Grounds—Eighth and Ninth Avenue "L" and Broadway subway.
Directions for Finding Seats—On the back of each ticket are printed directions for locating the seats in the various sections.
When the referee's whistle sends the Army and Navy teams charging into each other this afternoon at the Polo Grounds, most of the United States government officials, army, navy and marine corps officers will be gathered in the seats and boxes around the sidelines to cheer 1915's football season on to its death in the spectacularly most brilliant game of the year.
President Wilson, doomed again to neutrality, will divide his time between the Army and Navy sides of the field. Mrs. Galt will arrive with him shortly before 1 o'clock on the train which brings besides them one of the largest and most distinguished delegations of government officials, army and navy officers, who ever saw an Army-Navy game.
Secretary Garrison will be whooping it up for the Army on the cadets' side of the field. Secretary Daniels, reinforced by his twenty-one-year-old son, will be right there where the Blue and Gold of the Navy waves, and take it from the Navy this Secretary is some rooter when he gets going.
Secretary McAdoo will be there—but why attempt to name all or many of the prominent folk. Cabinet officers, admirals and generals, all take a back seat to-day. In the full glare of the limelight stand the twenty-two gridiron fighters from West Point and Annapolis. To-day there is only one firing line; it's the chalk-marked field at the Polo Grounds.
The Midshipmen arrived here Thursday and went to the Vanderbilt yesterday. The Army team, coaches, trainers, and advance delegation of officers arrived, making the Hotel Astor their headquarters. Every train from Washington, from Annapolis, from West Point, which pulled into New York thereafter was packed with Army and Navy adherents.
And Broadway was ready with its usual welcome. The Vanderbilt, Astor, Waldorf, McAlpin, and Martinique were profusely decorated with the flags and with Army and Navy colors. Generals met cub lieutenants in the cafés and dining-rooms (where seats had been reserved both for last night and to-night weeks in advance), all eager to get some late "dope" on the game.
Store fronts were gay with the Navy Blue and Gold and the Army Black and Gold and Gray; street hawkers were disposing of the winning colors. New York was on its biannual football spree last night. The Army and Navy were in town....
Betting? Well, as a Navy man put it, "We've got a few iron men with us." Yes, they all came "heeled." Navy men are asking 2 to 1 and getting it in spots. But as the hours slipped by and the old Army-Navy feeling grew, there was no telling the odds—each man bet as the impulse of the moment prompted him, anywhere from 3 to 1 to even money.
Probable Line-up To-day
Army Wgt. Navy Wgt.
Neyland 170 L.E. Von H'mb'g 180
Jones 200 L.T. Ward 177
O'hare 192 L.G. Kercher 185
McEwan 192 C. Goodstein 172
Meacham 176 R.G. Smith 199
Weyand 197 R.T. Gilman 187
Redfield 163 R.E. Johnson 169
Gerhardt 145 Q.B. Craig 147
Ford 171 L.H. Westphal 184
Oliphant 163 R.H. Davis 153
Coffin 162 F.B. Martin 161
T'l weight 1931 lbs. T'l weight 1914 lbs.
Avg. wgt., 175.6 lbs. Avg. wgt., 174 lbs.
Referee, W. S. Langford, Trinity; umpire, F. W. Murphy, Brown; field judge, J. A. Evans, Williams; head linesman, Carl Marshall, Harvard.[36]
251. Review Stories.—Stories written days after a game are generally of an analytical nature, their purpose being to review the play or contest and explain why one team or contestant was successful and the other a failure, or why one method of play, attack, or defense proved better than others. Sometimes, however, such stories are merely individual incidents learned late, but of interest nevertheless to the readers. An analytical story is the following:
NEW RULES UPSET TEAMS
With the advent of October, the month which generally ushers in the football seasons, the defeat of Yale by Virginia was one of the most conspicuous cases of the old adage that history will repeat itself in football as well as in any other line of athletic endeavor.
In former years supposedly stronger elevens have met with unexpected setbacks from teams which were thought to be only tools in the helpful development of the big elevens for the harder and more important contests to be played later in the season. In the old days of the five-yard rule and mass play, schedules could be outlined with so much accuracy that a coach or athletic director seldom made mistakes in his schedules.
In those days the chart was framed so that each succeeding game would be harder to win.... The teams were sent into the game to test the pet plays of the coaches, such as the revolving mass on tackle, hard concentrated attacks on and off the tackles, with the runner being pushed and pulled by his teammates....
If plays as outlined by the coaches did not make the necessary distances, then the teams practically settled down to a man to man contest, and football history records the number of games which ended either in scoreless ties or knotted counts.
Following this old custom, the big teams select the opponents who in the old days were easy to beat in the first games. It is true some changes have been made in schedules, but it is only reasonable to assume that the coach of a large eleven would be foolish to schedule an opening contest with a team which he thought had a chance to beat his own aggregation.
Using Yale as an example, the authorities at New Haven would never have scheduled the Virginia game unless they thought in their own minds that Old Eli would trot off the field an easy winner. On the last Saturday in September the Blue eleven had an easy time winning from Maine, 37 to 0.
Following the changes in the rules, coaches nowadays cannot afford to take a chance with any team, whether they have a heavy, strong team or a well balanced eleven. The players do not get accustomed to the excitement of actual combat so early in the season, and the least little thing which goes wrong in their offensive or defensive play will unbalance them for the remainder of the contest.
Harvard, last year's eastern champion, was compelled to play a lot of football to win from the Massachusetts Aggies by a single touchdown. Had Percy Haughton, the Crimson coach, thought his team would experience such a hard game so early in the season, the contest would not have been listed. The Crimson eleven, in other words, was opposed by a team which had been thoroughly groomed in every department of the game, the Aggies apparently realizing what a victory would mean to them.[37]...
252. General Stories.—The last type of sporting news story, that relating to a sport only in a general way, may be considered briefly. In this type the actual news value is small. The interest of the story lies rather in its informative worth, the writer's purpose being to present general, but significant, facts that will interest followers of the sport. Usually it is expository. Its nature is well illustrated by the following subjects chosen practically at random: "Batters in the American Association Weaker in 1916 than in 1915"; "Title Holders in the Ring Play Safety First—Refuse Long Battles"; "Tennis Gaining in Popularity"; "Is Baseball a Back Number?"; "Any Man Can Play Par Golf"; "Ty Cobb's Place in Baseball History." Such stories are valuable in the Sunday edition, and in addition to giving general surveys of various sports, help to interest readers when athletic news is scarce. They are the feature stories of sports.
XVII. SOCIETY
253. What Society News Is.—The society editor's work concerns itself with the social and personal news of the city and county in which the paper is published or from which it draws its patronage. It is almost entirely local, news of the state or of other cities being of value only in so far as it affects women and men of one's own town through former exchanges of courtesy or hospitality, or for similar causes. Nor does it concern itself with the unconventional, the abnormal. Elopements, clandestine marriages, unusual engagements, freakish parties, and similar extraordinary social and personal news do not come within the sphere of the society editor, but take regular, and usually prominent, places in the news columns.
254. Difficulty.—The society editor's work is with the conventional in the local fashionable world, and for this reason probably no other kind of news demands so consistent care, discrimination, and habitual restraint. She—the society editor is practically always a woman—must recognize readily relative social distinctions, to know what names and functions to feature in her column or section, and to be able to present the details of those functions acceptably to the various social groups about which and for which she is writing. The latter requisite in particular is difficult. For in attempting to give appreciative accounts of weddings, dances, receptions, she is liable to overstep the narrow limits of conventional usage and make herself ridiculous by extravagance of statement; or else, in trying to avoid unnecessary display of enthusiasm, she is led into use of trite, colorless words and stock phrases. She must by all means take care not to say that "the handsome groom wearing the conventional black and the lovely bride arrayed in a charming creation of white satin consummated their sacred nuptial vows amid banks of fragrant lilies and beautiful, blushing roses to the melodious strains of Mendelssohn's entrancing wedding march."
255. Illustrations.—The following stories of engagements, weddings, dinners, dances, receptions, club meetings, and charity benefits have been selected at random to show the accepted methods of handling society write-ups. At the end are added a few personal items—personals, they are generally termed—and a single "society review." The restraint and dignity of tone of the stories are worth close study.
ENGAGEMENTS
Mr. and Mrs. George A. Stewart, of 311 North Parkside Avenue, announce the engagement of their daughter, Gladys, to Charles M. Sailor, a son of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Sailor, of 25 South Central Boulevard.
The first debutante of the season to become engaged is Miss Bessie Allen, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Osborne Allen, whose engagement to Harry O. Best was announced Saturday. Mr. Best is a son of Mr. and Mrs. George R. Best, of 131 East Fifty-fourth street. He was graduated from Harvard in 1913 and is a member of the Knickerbocker Club of this city, and also of the Balustrol Golf Club. He is a member of the firm of Best and Flom, 136 Walker Street. Mr. Best is the third in direct line to bear his name, being a grandson of the late George R. Best, one of the most noted architects of this city. The wedding will take place in the spring.
WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS
In the Church of the Heavenly Rest on Tuesday afternoon at 3:30 will be celebrated the wedding of Miss Doris Ryer, daughter of Mrs. Fletcher Ryer of San Francisco, Cal., to Stanhope Wood Nixon, son of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. The wedding ceremony will be witnessed by a large number of relatives and friends from California and several of the principal Eastern cities where the families of both the bride and her fiancé are prominent.
Gov. Charles S. Whitman is to act as Miss Ryer's sponsor and will give her away. Miss Phyllis de Young, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Michael H. de Young of San Francisco, will be the maid of honor and the bridesmaids will be the Misses Pauline Disston of Philadelphia, Ray Slater of Boston, Mary Moreland of Pittsburg, Elizabeth Sands of Newport, Frances Moore of Washington, and Helen Flake of this city.
Walbridge S. Taft will be the best man. The ushers will be Henry S. Ladew, Patrick Calhoun, Henry Rogers Benjamin, Ammi Wright Lancashire, Esmond P. O'Brien and Hugh D. Cotton.
Following the wedding ceremony there will be a reception in the ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton. The engagement of Miss Ryer and Mr. Nixon was announced last autumn. The bride-to-be has passed the greater part of the last two winters in New York with her mother and during the summer season has been identified with the colony in Newport, R. I.[38]
WEDDING
Miss Celia Cravis, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Myer Cravis, of 1817 North Thirty-second Street, became the bride of Harry Cassman, of Atlantic City, Thursday. The ceremony was performed at 6:30 o'clock in the evening in the green room of the Adelphi Hotel by the Rev. Marvin Nathan, assisted by the Rev. Armin Rosenberg.
The father of the bride gave her in marriage. Her gown of white satin was given a frosted effect by crystal bead embroidery and was made with court train. Her tulle veil was held by a bandeau of lilies of the valley. A white prayer book was carried and also a bouquet of orchids, gardenias and lilies of the valley.
The maid of honor was Miss Katherine Abrahams, wearing blue satin trimmed with silver. She carried a double shower bouquet of tea roses and lilies of the valley, and a yellow ostrich feather fan, the gift of the bride.
The bridesmaids, Miss Estelle Freeman, Miss Tillie Greenhouse, Miss Estelle Sacks and Miss Leonore Printz, were dressed in frocks of different pastel shades, ranging white, pink, blue and violet. Each carried a basket of roses and a pink feather fan. Miss Madeline Cravis and Miss Sylvia Gravan, the flower girls, wore pink and carried baskets of pink roses.
Herbert W. Salus acted as best man. The ushers were Lewis E. Stern and Walter Hanstein, of Atlantic City; I. S. Cravis and Henry Gotlieb.
A reception for about 250 guests followed the ceremony. After a tour of the South, Mr. and Mrs. Cassman will be at 217 South Seaside Avenue, Atlantic City.[39]
TEAS, DINNERS, LUNCHEONS
Miss Alice Williams, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Edward T. Williams, was presented to society yesterday afternoon at a tea in the home of her parents, 1901 Eighteenth Street. Miss Williams was born in Shanghai, China, during her father's connection with the United States legation there, and she has lived most of her life in the Orient. Mr. Williams was chargé d'affaires of the United States at the time of the recognition of the new Chinese republic. At the time of the outbreak of the war in Europe Miss Williams was a student in Paris. Mr. Williams is now the head of the Bureau of Far Eastern Affairs in the State Department.
Mrs. Williams presented her daughter, with no assistants save three of her daughter's young friends, Miss Helen Miller, Miss Virginia Puller and Miss Ethel Christiensen, who presided in the dining room. The drawing room and dining room were both transformed into bowers of blossoms, sent to the debutante, which were charmingly arranged. Mrs. Miller wore a graceful gown of black net and lace over black satin. The debutante wore a becoming costume of rose silk and silver trimming and carried sweet peas a portion of the afternoon, and the bunch of roses sent by Mrs. Lansing, wife of the Secretary of State, the rest of the time. Miss Miller and Miss Christiensen were each in white net and tulle and Miss Puller wore blue and white.[40]
Mrs. Fred Enderly, who has recently returned after a long absence in the East, was specially honored with a Halloween birthday dinner given by Mrs. Lottie Logan, of No. 1532 Ingraham Street Tuesday evening. The table was in yellow, with a floral center of chrysanthemums and favors of black cats, diminutive pumpkin people and other suggestive Halloween conceits. The guests were whisked up to the dressing-rooms by a witch, and Mrs. George H. Rector, attired in somber soothsayer's robes, told fortunes. Place-cards were written for Mr. and Mrs. Enderly, Mr. and Mrs. Archibald Hart, Mr. and Mrs. George Rector, Mr. and Mrs. Henry Henderson, Mr. and Mrs. George McDaniel, Mrs. Fred Detmer, Miss Wilhelmina Rector, Miss Talcot, Messrs. Mark Ellis, Jack Bushnell, L. D. Maescher and O. H. Logan.[41]
RECEPTION
Mr. and Mrs. Henry V. Black of Broadway, Irvington, gave a reception this afternoon for their debutante daughter, Miss Latjerome Black. Receiving with Mrs. Black were Mrs. P. F. Llewellyn Chambers, Mrs. Frederick Sayles, Mrs. Charles Coombs, Mrs. Benjamin Prince, Mrs. Theodosia Bailey, Mrs. Charles Hope, Miss Caramai Carroll, Miss Dorothy Brown, Mrs. Robert C. Black and Miss Dorothy Black. Receiving with Miss Black were the Misses Marion Townsend, Helen Sayles, Dorothy Clifford, Marion Becker, Helen Geer, and Genevieve Clendenin. Miss Black wore a dress of white silk embroidery and pink roses. The decorations were of autumn leaves and chrysanthemums.
Among the guests were Dr. and Mrs. Albert Shaw, Mrs. Edwin Gould, Mrs. Howard Carroll, Mrs. Finley J. Shepard, Miss Anne Depew Paulding, Mrs. William Carter, Miss Millette, Mrs. John Luke, Mrs. Adam Luke, Mrs. H. D. Eastabrook, Mrs. John D. Archbold, Mrs. Henry Graves, and Dr. and Mrs. D. Russell.[42]
DANCE
Elaboration of detail marked the oriental ball given by the Sierra Madre Club at its rooms in the Investment Building last evening. More than 400 members and guests attended in garb of the Far East—costumes whose values ran far into the hundreds. The club rooms were draped in a bewildering manner with tapestry of the Celestial Empire and the land of Nippon, and the rugs of Turkey and Arabia.
It was a most colorful event—sultans robed in many colors with bejeweled turbans; Chinese mandarins in long flowing coats; bearded Moors, who danced with Geisha girls of Japan, gowned in multi-colored silken kimonos; petite China maids in silken pantaloons and bobtailed jackets; Salome dancers of the East, in baggy bloomers and jeweled corsages, and harem houris in dazzling draperies.
Preceding the dancing, a remarkable dinner, featuring the choicest foods of the Orient, was served by attendants wearing the dress of Chinese coolies. The rare old syrups of the Orient were enjoyed by the diners, while the fragrant odor of burning incense lent an air of subtle mysticism.
Among the 400 guests present were:[43]
CLUB MEETING
At this week's meeting of the New England Women's Press Association, Miss Helen M. Winslow, chairman of the programme committee, presented Joseph Edgar Chamberlin of The Transcript, who spoke on "The Work of Women in Journalism." Mr. Chamberlin gave many personal reminiscences of women writers whom he had known in his connection with various publications. He expressed regret that women are not doing more in editorial work, as in the earlier years of their entrance into the newspaper field, and the belief that it would be of advantage to journalism and to the public if they gave more attention to writing of this character rather than that directed almost exclusively for women's departments and others of superficial value. Mr. Chamberlin paid especial compliment to the work of Margaret Buchanan Sullivan, Jeannette Gilder, Jennie June Croly and Kate Field. Mr. Chamberlin spoke in high praise of Miss Cornelia M. Walter (afterward Mrs. W. B. Richards) who was editor-in-chief and had full charge of The Transcript from 1842 to 1847. The executive board voted to co-operate with the Travelers' Aid Society and Mrs. Ralph M. Kirtland was elected chairman of the committee to formulate plans.[44]
CHARITY BENEFIT
On Thursday afternoon at 4 o'clock Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt of 660 Fifth Avenue will open her house for a benefit entertainment in aid of the Appuiaux Artistes of France. Viscountess de Rancougne is to give her talk on the work being done in the French and Belgian hospitals and in the bombarded towns and villages, illustrated with colored slides from photographs taken by herself. An interesting musical program also has been arranged for the afternoon, with Miss Callish, Mr. de Warlich, and Carlos Salzedo appearing. Mrs. Kenneth Frazier of 58 East Seventy-eighth Street is receiving applications for tickets at $5 each. On the Executive Committee are Kenneth Frazier, Ernest Peixotto, Edwin H. Blashfield, Charles Dana Gibson, Joseph H. Hunt, and Janet Scudder. Mrs. W. Bourke Cockran, Mrs. Howard Cushing, Mrs. E. H. Harriman, Mrs. Philip M. Lydig, Mrs. H. P. Whitney, and Miss Grace Bigelow make up the committee in charge.[45]
PERSONALS
Mrs. Robert R. Livingston and her son, Robert R. Livingston, have returned from a trip to the Pacific Coast and are at their town house, 11 Washington Square North, until they open Northwood, the Livingston estate near Cheviot-on-Hudson. They spent about six weeks on the coast.
Mr. and Mrs. C. Oliver Iselin will return to their country place at Glen Head, L. I., late in April for the early summer. They are now occupying Hopelands, their place at Aiken, S. C.
Mrs. and Mr. Francis de R. Wissmann have returned from a trip of some weeks to San Francisco and have been at the Gotham for a few days before opening Adelslea at Throgs Neck, Westchester, for the summer.
The Rev. Dr. J. Nevett Steele of 122 West Seventy-sixth Street, vicar of St. Paul's Chapel, who has been ill with pneumonia since March 13, is now convalescing and will soon be able to resume his church duties.
A son was born yesterday to Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., at their home, 165 East Seventy-fourth Street. The child is a grandson of Col. Theodore Roosevelt and will be named Cornelius Van Schaick Roosevelt, after his great-great-grandfather. This is the third child of Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt. Their first boy, Theodore Roosevelt, III, was born June 14, 1914. Mrs. Roosevelt was Miss Eleanor B. Alexander, daughter of Mrs. Henry Addison Alexander of 1840 Park Avenue.
SOCIETY IN PROSPECT AND REVIEW
Never has a Washington season begun so early as this one. The middle of December finds the White House dinners in full sway, the President and Mrs. Wilson having dined with the Vice President and Mrs. Marshall, and the first state reception of the season in the White House due in two days.
President and Mrs. Wilson already have had three large and formal dinner parties, the first one on December 7, in honor of Mr. Vance McCormick, chairman of the Democratic national committee; and on Tuesday of last week they entertained the Vice President and the members of the cabinet and their wives, with a number of other distinguished guests and a few young people. After this dinner a programme of music was given in the east room and the evening was a charming success. The First Lady of the Land never was more lovely than she was on this occasion. The President's niece, Miss Alice Wilson, of Baltimore, came over with her father for the evening. Miss Nataline Dulles, niece of Mrs. Lansing, made her first appearance at a state dinner, and Miss Margaret Wilson and Miss Bones were among the guests. On Thursday evening the visiting governors, former governors and governors-elect here for the conference this week, and their wives, were dined, with an interesting company. Friday evening the Vice President and Mrs. Marshall gave their annual dinner to the President and his wife, and had a senatorial company to meet them.
The debutantes are in the full splendor of their glory, and the next three weeks will give them a supreme test of endurance, for luncheons, teas, dinners and dances not only follow one another closely, but pile up, with several in a day and not one to be neglected. There are no diplomatic buds, no cabinet buds, and few army, navy and congressional buds. But it is a strong residential year, with a number of debutantes in the smartest and most exclusive of the substantial old families. During the Christmas holidays the buds of the future, some of a year hence, others of two years, are vying with the older girls for busy days, and the social calendar shows scarcely a resting moment from the day they come home from school until they rush back to their studies in time to reach the first recitation class. And as for beauty sleep, there will be none. There will not be a night during the Christmas vacation when this younger set will not be dancing. Time was when dinner parties were composed of elderly, or at least middle-aged, people only, but now even the near-debutantes and their circle have a steady round of "dining out," with no fear of being considered "along in years," for there are dinners for all ages.
Washington has given three of her most distinguished, most beautiful and most popular girls to foreign lands within two months, two of them having become princesses and the third a baroness. The first to wed was Miss Margaret Draper, heiress to several millions of her father's estate. She is now Princess Boncompagni of Rome, and her mother is now just about joining her and the prince in Paris, the three to proceed to the prince's home in Rome, where they will spend Christmas together, after which the prince will return to duty with his regiment.
The second of these brides of foreigners was Miss Catherine Birney, daughter of the late Mr. and Mrs. Theodore V. Birney, who was married December 2 to Baron von Schoen, of the German embassy staff, and is just back now from the wedding trip. They returned for the marriage of Miss Catherine Britton to the Prince zu Hohenlohe-Schillingsfuerst, of the Austro-Hungarian embassy staff. Baron and Baroness von Schoen will spend Christmas with the latter's sister, with whom she has made her home since the death of her parents, and then they will proceed to Mexico, whence the baron has been transferred.
The marriage of Miss Britton and Prince zu Hohenlohe was not unexpected, but the wedding date was hurried about three months, the prince becoming an impatient wooer. He was assigned to duty at the Austro-Hungarian consulate in the summer and agreed to remain away for a year. He stood it as long as he could, and then returned to claim his bride. The consent of the prince's family has not been forthcoming, but the marriage has the sanction of the embassy, presumably by order of the new emperor, and it was a happy wedding scene. The bride is one of the famous beauties of Washington society. She was never lovelier than in her singularly simple wedding gown of satin with pearl trimmings, tulle sleeves, and enormous wedding veil.
Society is dancing its way through the season. The fever is making inroads even upon the incessant auction-bridge playing, and he or she who neither dances nor plays auction has a dull time of it. Washington society is rather methodical in its dancing. Monday nights are given up to the subscription dances at the Playhouse, and another set at the Willard. Tuesday night the army dances are given at the Playhouse. On Wednesdays are the regular Chevy Chase Club dinner dances, and on Thursdays are those at the Navy Club. On Friday nights, beginning on January 5, will be the ten subscription dances at the Willard, and on Saturday nights there are dances everywhere. The private dances are scattered all through, afternoons and evenings, until there is scarcely a date left vacant on the calendar until Ash Wednesday.[46]
256. Clubs.—The particular attention of the prospective society editor may be called to club news. The work in literature, education, community betterment, general social relief, and kindred subjects now being undertaken by women's clubs is sometimes phenomenal and offers to live society editors a vast undeveloped field for constructive news. Too frequently the society page is filled with dull six-point routine, forbidding in style and still more forbidding in content, when it might be made alive with buoyancy and interest by added attention to new studies and interests in the women's clubs. What the women are doing in their study of the garbage question, in their campaigns against flies, in their efforts to provide comforts for unprivileged slum children,—such topics, properly featured and given attractive individual heads, may be made interesting to a large percentage of the intelligent women in the community and may be made instrumental in building up a strong, constructive department in the paper.
257. Typographical Style.—The prospective society editor will find it well, however, to study and to follow at first the typographical style of the society column in her paper. Some newspapers run each wedding, engagement, or social affair under a separate head. Others group all society stories under the general head of Society, indicating the different social functions, no matter how long the write-ups, only by new paragraphs. Sometimes this necessitates paragraphs a half-column long. In preparing lists of names in society reports, the editor should group like names and titles together. That is, she should group together the married couples, then the married women whose names appear alone, then the unmarried women, and finally the men. An illustration is the following:
Among the several hundred guests were Mr. and Mrs. S. Bryce Wing, Mr. and Mrs. Felix D. Doubleday, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Gouvernour Morris....
Among the debutantes and other young women present were Misses Gretchen Blaine Damrosch, Priscilla Peabody, Irene Langhorne Gibson, Rosalie G. Bloodgood....
The young men present included Messrs. Lester Armour, Edward M. McIlvaine, Jr., Edgar Allan Poe, William Carrington Stettinius, Nelson Doubleday, Herbert Pulitzer....
258. Spurious Announcements.—A word may be said in conclusion about getting society news. One of the first precautions to a prospective society editor is not to accept announcements of engagements, marriages, and births of children from any others than the immediate persons concerned. In particular, one should beware of such news given by telephone. Too many so-called practical jokes are attempted in this way on sensitive lovers and young married couples. Many newspapers have printed forms for announcements of engagements and weddings. These are mailed directly to the families concerned and require their signatures.
259. Sources for Society News.—In cases of important news, such as weddings and charity benefits, the editor generally has little difficulty in obtaining all the facts needed. Some social leaders are naturally good about giving one details of their parties. Others, however, shun publicity even to the extent of denying prospective luncheons, dinners, and card parties—particularly if they are small—after all plans have been made, and the details may be had only after they know the reporter has definite facts. To get these first facts is often one's hardest task. Frequently one can acquire the friendly acquaintance of some one in society who likes to have her name appear with the real leaders. Men, too,—even husbands,—often are not so reticent about their immediate social affairs and are glad to give pretty society editors advance tips of coming events. But the best sources are the caterers, the florists, and the hair-dressing parlors. The caterers are engaged weeks in advance. The florists provide the decorations. And the hair-dressing parlors are hotbeds of gossip. By visiting or calling regularly at these places one generally can keep abreast of all the society news in town. But always when getting news from such sources—or from any other for that matter—one must be sure of the absolute accuracy of all addresses, names, and initials. If one is not careful,—well, only one who has seen an irate mother talk to the city editor before the ink on the home edition is dry can appreciate the trouble that will probably result.
XVIII. FOLLOW-UPS, REWRITES
260. "Follow-ups."—"Rewrites" and "follow-up" stories are news stories which have appeared in print. The distinction between the two is that "follow-ups" contain news in addition to that of the story first printed, while "rewrites" are only revisions. Few news stories are complete on their first appearance. New features develop; motives, causes, and unlooked-for results come to light in a way that is oftentimes amazing. Sometimes these facts appear within a few hours; again they are days in developing; and occasionally, after they have developed, the story will "follow" for weeks, months, and even years without losing its interest. The Thaw, Becker, and Charlton stories ran for years. The first item about the Titanic disaster was a bulletin of less than half a stick; yet the story ran for months.
261. Constructive Side of "Follow-ups."—A reporter, therefore, must not consider a story ended until he has run to ground all the possibilities or until the new facts have ceased to be of interest to a large body of readers. Indeed, it is in the "follow-up" that the reporter has one of his greatest opportunities to prove himself a constructive journalist. There is every reason, too, for believing it will be in the "follow-up" that the big newspaper of the future will find its greatest development. At present, stories often are dropped too quickly, so quickly that the really constructive news is lost. A great epidemic sweeps a city, taking an unprecedented toll of life and entailing expenditures of hundreds of thousands of dollars. All the reporters grind out pages and pages of copy about the plague, but few follow the physicians and scientists through the coming weeks and months in their unflagging determination to learn the causes of the disease, to effect cures, and to prevent a recurrence of it as an epidemic. Yet such news is constructive and is of greater value probably to the readers than the somewhat sensational figures of the plague. For the scientists will conquer in the end, and all along the way their improved methods of cure and prevention will be of educational value to the public. So also with strikes, wrecks, fires, commercial panics, graft and crime exposures, etc.; the reporter is advised to follow the story through the weeks to come, not necessarily writing of it all the while, but holding it in prospect for the constructive news that is sure to follow.
262. Following up a Story.—The first story which the new reporter will have to follow up he will some day find stuck behind the platen of his typewriter. It will have been put there by one of the copy-readers who has read the local papers of the preceding morning or afternoon and has clipped this article as one promising further developments. The first thing to do is to read the whole story carefully. (As a matter of fact, the reporter really should have read and should be familiar with the story already. Familiarity with all the news is expected of newspaper men at all times.) Then he should look to see if the reporter writing the story has played up the real features. In his haste to get the news into print, the other reporter may have missed the main feature. A delightful case in point is a "follow-up" of an indifferent story appearing in a New York morning paper:
Because they were penniless and hungry, Charles Ewart, 31 years old, and his wife Emily, living at 646 St. Nicholas Avenue, were arrested yesterday in the grocery store of Jacob Bosch, 336 St. Nicholas Avenue, charged with shoplifting. When arrested by Detective Taczhowski, who had trailed them all the way from a downtown department store, seven eggs and a box of figs were found in Mrs. Ewart's handsome blue fox muff....
But the cause of the couple's pilfering was not poverty or hunger, as was shown by a clever writer on the New York World who covered the story that afternoon. Here is his write-up, in which the reader should note the entire change of tone and the happy handling of the human interest features:
CONFESSED SHOPLIFTERS
Mrs. Emily Ewart, slender, petite, pretty, sat in the police department to-day, tossed back her blue fox neckpiece, patted her moist eyes with a lace-embroidered handkerchief, carefully adjusted in her lap the handsome fox muff which the police say had but lately been the repository of seven eggs and a box of figs, and told how she and her husband happened to be arrested last evening as shoplifters.
As she talked, her husband, Charles Ewart, thirty-one years old, sat disconsolately in a cell, his modish green overcoat somewhat wrinkled, the careful creases in his gray trousers a bit less apparent, and his up-to-the-minute gray fedora a trifle out of shape and dusty. Nevertheless, he still retained the mien of dignity with which he met his arrest in the grocery store of Jacob Bosch at No. 336 St. Nicholas Avenue.
Of course, you understand, it was really Mrs. Ewart's fault that she and her husband should stoop to pilfering from a hardworking grocer eggs worth 42 cents (at their market value of 72 cents a dozen) and a box of figs, net value one dime. At least, so she told the police. She too, she said, led him to appropriate a travelling bag worth $10 from a downtown department store.
If it hadn't been for her, young Mr. Ewart might have gone right along earning his so much per week soliciting theatre curtain advertisements for the Bentley Studios, at No. 1493 Broadway, and might never have run afoul of the police.
The Ewarts, so the young woman's story ran, came here from Chicago two weeks ago. Of their life in the Western city she refused to tell anything. But since coming to New York, she admitted, they had travelled a hard financial road.
Detective Taczkowski's attention was first called to Ewart in a downtown department store yesterday afternoon, when Ewart tried to return a travelling bag which he said his wife had bought for $10. Investigation of the store's records showed Mrs. Ewart had bought a bag for $3.95, but that the $10 bag had been stolen. Ewart was put off on a technicality and the detective followed him when he left the store. Outside Ewart was met by his wife. Into the subway Taczkowski shadowed them and at last the trail led to the Bosch grocery on St. Nicholas Avenue.
In the store, Taczkowski kept his eyes on Mrs. Ewart, in her modish gown and furs, while Ewart engaged a clerk in conversation. Suddenly, Taczkowski alleges, he saw an egg worth six cents disappear from a crate into Mrs. Ewart's handsome fur muff. Another egg followed, and another, he says, until, like the children of the poem, they were seven. When a box of figs followed the eggs, Taczowski says, he arrested the pair.
A search of the Ewarts' apartment at No. 646 St. Nicholas Avenue, the police say, revealed a great quantity of men's and women's clothing of the finest variety. Mrs. Ewart, the police say, admitted she had stolen the blue fox furs from a downtown store and the police expect to identify much of the handsome clothing found in the apartment as stolen goods.
"We were hungry and had no money," Mrs. Ewart sobbed at police headquarters. "We had all that clothing, but not a cent to buy food. I am the one to blame, for I encouraged my husband to steal."
Ewart and his wife were arraigned in Yorkville Court before Magistrate Harris to-day and were held in $500 bail each for further examination.[47]
263. New Facts.—Generally in the "follow-up" it is the newly learned facts that are featured. In the case of a sudden death, for instance, it would be the funeral arrangements; in a railway wreck, the investigation and the placing of blame. The following stories illustrate:
Story in a Morning Paper
Dashing through a rain-storm with lightning flashes blinding him, William H. Blanchard, manager for the Wells Fargo Express Company, drove his automobile off the approach of the open State Street bridge to-night and was drowned. Otto Eller, teacher of manual training in the West Side High School, escaped by leaping into the river. Eller says the warning lights were not displayed at the bridge.
When the automobile was recovered, it was shown that the car was not moving fast, as it had barely dropped off the abutment, a few feet from shore. The bridge was open because its operating equipment had been put out of order by a stroke of lightning.
The Follow-up
The body of William H. Blanchard, manager of the Wells Fargo Express Company, who lost his life when he drove an automobile into an open drawbridge, was recovered this morning about 100 feet from where the accident occurred.
Investigations have been started by the coroner and friends to place the blame for the accident. The electrical mechanism of the bridge was out of commission on account of a storm and it was being operated by hand. Spectators declare no warning lights were on the bridge.
264. Results Featured.—Frequently the lead to the follow-up features the results effected by the details of the earlier story:
Original Story
The total yield of the leading cereal crops of the United States this year will be nearly 1,000,000,000 bushels less than last year. The government estimates of the crop issued to-day showed sensational losses in the spring wheat crop in the Northwest, a further shrinkage in winter wheat, and big losses compared to a month ago and last year in corn and oats.
Both barley and rye figures also indicate greater losses compared to a year ago than were shown in the July government report.
The Follow-up Next Day
American wheat pits had a day of turmoil to-day such as they have not seen since the stirring times when war was declared in Europe.
Influenced by the startling government report showing enormous losses in the spring wheat crop, prices soared even more sharply than the wiseacres had anticipated.
They were 5 to 8 cents higher when the gong struck, the report, released after the close of 'change Tuesday, having had its effect over night. At the close they registered a gain of from 105/8 to 113/8 cents for the day. Wheat had gone above $1.50 a bushel. Two months ago it was around $1.05.
265. Probable Results.—Where no more important details can be learned, it sometimes is wise to feature probable results.
A break in diplomatic relations between the United States and Germany as a result of the torpedoing of the Lusitania by a German submarine is the expressed belief to-day of high Washington officials.
266. Clues for Identification.—In stories of crime, when the offenders have escaped, the lead to the follow-up may begin with clues for establishing the identity of the criminals.
If a piano tuner about forty years of age, wearing a pair of silver spectacles and accompanied by a petite, brown-eyed girl twenty years his junior, comes to your house for work, telephone the Boston police. They are the two, it is alleged, who robbed the Mather apartments yesterday.
267. Featuring Lack of News.—In rare cases the very fact that there is no additional news is worth featuring.
Up to a late hour to-night nothing had been heard of Henry O. Mallory, prosecuting attorney in the Howard murder case, who disappeared yesterday on his way to Lexington.
268. Opinions of Prominent Persons.—An otherwise unimportant follow story may sometimes be made a good one by interviewing prominent persons and localizing the reader's interest in men or women he knows.
That the new eugenics law passed by the state legislature of Wisconsin yesterday is doomed to failure from the start, is the opinion of Health Commissioner Shannon, who was in Madison when the final vote was taken.
269. Summary of Opinions.—Sometimes, indeed, it is well to interview a number of local persons and make the lead a summary of their views.
Widely different opinions were expressed by prominent physicians, professors, clergymen, and social workers throughout this city to-day on the ethics of the course taken by Dr. H. J. Haiselden of Chicago in allowing the defective son of a patient to die.
270. Connecting Links.—In all these stories, the reader should note, sufficient explanatory matter has been included to connect the incidents readily with the events of the preceding days. This is important in every follow-up; for always many readers will have missed the earlier stories and consequently will need definite connection to relate the new events with preceding occurrences. It is also important for these connecting links to be included in, or to follow immediately after, the lead, because they give the reader necessary facts for understanding the new information—give him his bearings, as it were,—without which he will not read far into the story.
271. "Rewrites."—While most stories are not complete on their first appearance, it sometimes happens, nevertheless, that the first publication of an item contains all the facts of interest to a paper's readers and that priority of publication has been gained by another journal. Yet the story will be of interest to the readers of one's own paper and must be published. It is the duty of the rewrite man to handle such a story, and to handle it in such a way that it shall bear no resemblance to the story published by the other paper. For this reason the most skillful reporters on a daily are the rewrite men. They must find new features for old stories, or new angles of view, or new relations of some kind between the various details.
272. Bringing a Story up to the Minute.—The first requisite in rewriting is the necessity of making old news new, of bringing it up to the minute. No matter when the events occurred, they must be presented to the reader so that they shall seem current. Currency is all but a necessity to life, vigor, interest in a yesterday's event. Here is an item of news in point. Suppose the following story from an afternoon paper is given a reporter on a morning daily:
Charged with running his car thirty miles an hour, Dr. Harry O. Smith, prominent city physician with offices in the Vincennes Building, was arrested on Kentucky Street this afternoon by Motorcycle Policeman DuPre. After giving bonds for his appearance to-morrow, Dr. Smith left in his machine for Linwood, where he was going when stopped by Policeman DuPre.
Concerning his arrest Dr. Smith refused to make any other statement than that he was on his way to see a patient.
The reporter cannot see Dr. Smith to obtain additional facts, because the doctor is out of town. Nor can he expect any more news, since the case will not come up until some hours after his paper will have been in the hands of its readers. It is also against journalistic rules to begin with "Dr. Smith was arrested yesterday." That yesterday must be eliminated from the lead. Here is the method one rewrite man used to get out of the difficulty:
Even doctors will not be allowed to break the city speed laws if one Cincinnati motorcycle policeman has his way.
Another way in which he might have avoided the troublesome yesterday would be:
One of the first cases on police docket this morning will be the hearing of Dr. Harry O. Smith, prominent Cincinnati physician with offices in the Vincennes building, who was arrested on a charge of speeding yesterday by Policeman DuPre.
Or he might have begun:
Whether the life of a sick patient is worth more than that of a healthy pedestrian may be decided in police court this morning.
In each of these rewrites it will be noted that the story has been brought down to the time of the appearance of the paper.
273. New Features.—The next thing to seek in the story to be rewritten is a new feature. Generally this is obtained in bringing the story up to date. If not, the reporter may examine, as in the "follow-up," to see whether the first story plays up the best feature, or whether it does not contain another feature equally good, or one possibly entirely overlooked. Failing here, he may look forward to probable developments, as an investigation following a wreck, a search by the police following a burglary, or an arraignment and trial following an arrest. Failing again, he may consider whether some cause or motive or agency for the fire or divorce or crime may not have gone unnoticed by the other man. Or best of all, he may try to relate the incident with similar events occurring recently, as in the case of a number of fires, burglaries, or explosions coming close upon each other. Whatever course he chooses, he should use his imagination to good advantage, taking care always to make his rewrite truthful. Here is the way a few rewrite men have presented their new old stories:
Result Featured
DEFECTIVE BABY DIES
The question whether his life should have been fought for or whether it was right to let him die is over, so far as the tiny, unnamed, six-days-old defective son of Mrs. Anna Bollinger is concerned. The child died at the German-American hospital, Chicago, at 7:30 last night, with Dr. H. J. Haiselden, chief of the hospital staff, standing firmly to his position that he could not use his science to prolong the life of so piteously afflicted a creature.
Connection with Preceding Events
WILD MAN CAUGHT
The wild man who has been frightening school children of Yonkers, scaring hunters in the woods, and causing hurry calls to the police from timid housewives, has been captured by the reserves of the Second precinct. He was caught last night in Belmont woods, near the Empire City race track.
Entirely New Feature Played Up
TWELVE-YEAR-OLD GIRL SUICIDE
Ruth Camilla Fisher knew a country wherein her beauty was specie of the realm. It was bounded by the ninth and twelfth birthdays. Its inhabitants consisted of Fritz, an adoring dachshund; "papa," who was a member of the school board and a great man; and innumerable gruff little boys, who, ostensibly ignorant of her observation, spat through vacant front teeth and turned gorgeous somersaults for her admiration. She was happy and the jealous green complexion of the feminine part of her world bothered her not at all.
And unsuspectingly Ruth came singing across the borders of her ain countree to the alien land of knowledge and disillusionment. Though she knew she came from God, it was gradually borne upon her that her girl-mother wandered a little way on the path of the Magdalenes.
She was an interloper who had no gospel sanction in the world, no visible parents other than a foster-father and a foster-mother. Perfectly respectable little girls began to inform her so with self-righteous airs and with the expertness of surgeons to dissect her from the social scheme that governs puss-wants-a-corner with the same iron rule that in later life determines who shall be asked to play bridge and who shall be outlawed.
"Your parents aren't your own," was the taunt that Ruth heard from playmates. Some of the little girls added the poison of sympathy to the information. And Ruth Camilla Fisher at 12 found herself a stranger in a strange land.
She extradited herself Tuesday night with a revolver shot in the temple. In the yard back of her foster-parents' home at 5319 West Twenty-fifth Street, Cicero, with one arm around the loyal Fritz, she put the revolver to her head and pressed the trigger....[48]
CROOK LISTS DANCERS' NAMES
The modern dance craze has brought a lot of informality into a heretofore very proper Chicago.
Women whose husbands work during the daytime have considered it not at all improper to flock to the afternoon thé dansants in many downtown cafés, there to fox-trot and one-step with good-looking strangers whose introduction—if there was an introduction—was procured in a sort of professional way.
Probable Effect
Consequently there were about forty women in Chicago who verged on total collapse yesterday if they chanced to read of the terrible experience of Mrs. Mercedes Fullenwider of 5432 Kimbark Avenue.
Probable Motive
ELSIE THOMAS NOT A SUICIDE
If a finger print can tell a story, the police may be able to prove by to-morrow night that pretty Elsie Thomas, whose lifeless body was found in her room at 1916 Pennsylvania Street last night, was not a suicide. In the opinion of her brother, Wallace Thomas, who was on his way from Lindale to see her, Hans Roehm, who had promised to marry her, may have been responsible for her death from cyanide of potassium.
274. Condensation in Rewrites.—It may be added in conclusion that though rewrites are made to seem fresh and new, they are nevertheless old news after all, and hence are not worth so much space as the original story. Consequently, one will find that they usually run from half to a fourth the length of the original; so that in rewriting one need not hesitate—as the copy-readers tell the reporters—to "cut every story to the bone." One must be careful in rewriting, however, not merely to omit paragraphs in cutting down stories. Excision is not rewriting.
XIX. FEATURE STORIES
275. What the Feature Story Is.—The feature, or human interest, story is the newspaper man's invention for making stories of little news value interesting. The prime difference between the feature story and the normal information story we have been studying is that its news is a little less excellent and must be made good by the writer's ingenuity. The exciting informational story on the first page claims the reader's attention by reason of the very dynamic power of its tidings, but the news of the feature story must have a touch of literary rouge on its face to make it attractive. This rouge generally is an adroit appeal to the emotions, and just as some maidens otherwise plain of feature may be made attractive, even beautiful, by a cosmetic touch accentuating a pleasing feature or concealing a defect, so the human interest story may be made fascinating by centering the interest in a single emotion and drawing the attention away from the staleness, the sameness, the lack of piquancy in the details. The emotion may be love, fear, hate, regret, curiosity, humor,—no matter what, provided it is unified about, is given the tone of, that feature.
276. Difficulty.—But just as it takes artists among women to dare successfully the lure of the rouge-dish, and just as so many, having ventured, make of their faces mere caricatures of the beauty they have sought, so only artists can handle the feature story. The difficulty lies chiefly in the temptation to overemphasize. In striving to make the story humorous, one goes too far, oversteps the limits of dignity, and like the ten-twenty-thirty vaudeville actor, produces an effect of disgust. Or in attempting to be pathetic, to excite a sympathetic tear, one is liable to induce mere derisive laughter. And a single misplaced word or a discordant phrase, like a mouse in a Sunday-school class, will destroy the entire effect of what one would say. In no other kind of writing is restraint more needed.
277. Two Types.—Probably entire accuracy demands the statement that these remarks about the difficulty of the feature story apply more specifically to the human interest type, the type the purpose of which is largely to entertain. Certainly it is more difficult than the second, whose purpose is to instruct or inform. The one derives its interest from its appeal to the reader's curiosity, the other from its appeal to the emotions. The emotional type attracts the reader through its appeal to elemental instincts and feelings in men, as desire for food and life, vain grief for one lost, struggle for position in society, undeserved prosperity or misfortune, abnormal fear of death, stoicism in the face of danger, etc. The following is by Frank Ward O'Malley, of the New York Sun, a classic of this type of human interest story:
DEATH OF HAPPY GENE SHEEHAN
Mrs. Catherine Sheehan stood in the darkened parlor of her home at 361 West Fifteenth Street late yesterday afternoon, and told her version of the murder of her son Gene, the youthful policeman whom a thug named Billy Morley shot in the forehead, down under the Chatham Square elevated station early yesterday morning. Gene's mother was thankful that her boy hadn't killed Billy Morley before he died, "because," she said, "I can say honestly, even now, that I'd rather have Gene's dead body brought home to me, as it will be to-night, than to have him come to me and say, 'Mother, I had to kill a man this morning.'"
"God comfort the poor wretch that killed the boy," the mother went on, "because he is more unhappy to-night than we are here. Maybe he was weak-minded through drink. He couldn't have known Gene or he wouldn't have killed him. Did they tell you at the Oak Street Station that the other policemen called Gene Happy Sheehan? Anything they told you about him is true, because no one would lie about him. He was always happy, and he was a fine-looking young man, and he always had to duck his helmet when he walked under the gas fixture in the hall, as he went out the door.
"He was doing dance steps on the floor of the basement, after his dinner yesterday noon, for the girls—his sisters, I mean—and he stopped of a sudden when he saw the clock, and picked up his helmet. Out on the street he made pretend to arrest a little boy he knows, who was standing there,—to see Gene come, out, I suppose,—and when the little lad ran away laughing, I called out, 'You couldn't catch Willie, Gene; you're getting fat.'
"'Yes, and old, mammy,' he said, him who is—who was—only twenty-six—'so fat,' he said, 'that I'm getting a new dress coat that'll make you proud when you see me in it, mammy.' And he went over Fifteenth Street whistling a tune and slapping his leg with a folded newspaper. And he hasn't come back.
"But I saw him once after that, thank God, before he was shot. It's strange, isn't it, that I hunted him up on his beat late yesterday afternoon for the first time in my life? I never go around where my children are working or studying—one I sent through college with what I earned at dressmaking and some other little money I had, and he's now a teacher; and the youngest I have at college now. I don't mean that their father wouldn't send them if he could, but he's an invalid, although he's got a position lately that isn't too hard for him. I got Gene prepared for college, too, but he wanted to go right into an office in Wall Street. I got him in there, but it was too quiet and tame for him, Lord have mercy on his soul; and then, two years ago, he wanted to go on the police force, and he went.
"After he went down the street yesterday I found a little book on a chair, a little list of the streets or something, that Gene had forgot. I knew how particular they are about such things, and I didn't want the boy to get in trouble, and so I threw on a shawl and walked over through Chambers Street toward the river to find him. He was standing on a corner some place down there near the bridge clapping time with his hands for a little newsy that was dancing; but he stopped clapping, struck, Gene did, when he saw me. He laughed when I handed him the little book and told that was why I'd searched for him, patting me on the shoulder when he laughed—patting me on the shoulder.
"'It's a bad place for you here, Gene,' I said. 'Then it must be bad for you, too, mammy,' said he; and as he walked to the end of his beat with me—it was dark then—he said, 'They're lots of crooks here, mother, and they know and hate me and they're afraid of me'—proud, he said it—'but maybe they'll get me some night.' He patted me on the back and turned and walked east toward his death. Wasn't it strange that Gene said that?