PART III

TYPES OF STORIES

TYPES OF STORIES

XIV. INTERVIEWS, SPEECHES, COURTS

=178. Four Types of Stories.=--To the casual newspaper reader the

various patterns of stories seem all but limitless. To the experienced

newspaper man, however, they reduce themselves to seven or eight, and

even this number may be further limited. The popular impression comes

from the fact that the average reader places an automobile collision and

a fire under different heads. Yet for the newspaper's purposes both may

be classed under the head of accidents. For the sake of convenience in

this study, therefore, we may group under four heads all the news

stories that a beginner need be acquainted with in the first year or so

of his work: interviews; accidents, society, and sports, to which may be

added for separate treatment, rewrites, feature stories, and

correspondence stories.

=179. The Interview Type.=--In the present chapter will be discussed the

interview type of story, in which are included not only personal

interviews, but speeches, sermons, toasts, courts, trials, meetings,

conventions, banquets, official reports, and stories about current

magazine articles and books. These are all grouped under one head

because they derive their interest to the public from the fact that in

them men and women present their opinions concerning topics of current

interest, and that for newspaper purposes the method of handling

interviews is much the same as for the other ten.

=180. Lead to an Interview.=--The lead to a news story of a personal

interview may feature any one of the following: (1) the name of the

person interviewed, (2) a direct statement from him, (3) an indirect

statement, (4) the general topic of the interview, (5) the occasion, or

even (6) the time. Probably it is the name of the man or a direct

statement that is played up most often. If the former is featured, the

lead should begin with the speaker's name and should locate the

conversation in time and place. Such a lead may well include also either

a direct or an indirect statement, or a general summary of the

interview. Thus:

|Professor George Trumbull Ladd of Yale, in an |

|interview for The Herald to-day, declared there |

|never had been a time in the history of the world |

|when there was a greater need for the enforcement of|

|international law, nor one when international law |

|was so much in the making as at present. |

If a significant statement is of most importance in the interview, the

lead should begin with the statement, directly or indirectly expressed,

and continue with the speaker's name, the time, place, and occasion of

the interview. Thus:

|"What has happened in Mexico is an appalling |

|international crime," declared Theodore Roosevelt |

|last evening at his home on Sagamore Hill, Oyster |

|Bay, L.I. He had been out all the afternoon in the |

|woods chopping wood, and was sitting well back from |

|the great log fire in the big hall filled with |

|trophies of his hunting trips, as he talked of the |

|recent massacre of American mining men in Chihuahua.|

|The most damnable act ever passed by Congress or |

|conceived by a congressman, was the way in which |

|William J. Conners of Buffalo to-day characterized |

|the La Follette seamen's law. Mr. Conners is in New |

|York on business connected with the Magnus Beck |

|Brewing Company, of which he is president. |

=181. Statements of Local Interest.=--Almost always it is well,

if possible, to lead the person interviewed to an expression of

his opinion about a topic of local interest, then feature that

statement,--particularly if the statement agrees with a declared policy

of the paper. Usually a problem of civic, state, or national interest

may be broached most easily. If the city is interested in commission

government or prohibition, if the state is fighting the short ballot or

the income tax question, the visitor may be asked for his opinion. If

the guest happens to be a national or international personage and the

nation is solving the problem of preparedness, or universal military

service, or the tariff question, he may be questioned on those subjects

and his opinions featured prominently in the lead. Note the following

lead to an interview published by a paper opposing the policies of

President Wilson:

|Declaring that the national administration's foreign|

|policy has made him almost ashamed of being an |

|American citizen, Henry B. Joy, of Detroit, Mich., |

|president of the Packard Motor Company, a governor |

|of the Aero Club of America and vice president of |

|the Navy League, said yesterday that our heritage of|

|national honor from the days of Washington, Lincoln,|

|and McKinley is slipping through our fingers. |

=182. Inquiring about the Feature.=--Often the feature to be developed

in an interview lead may be had by asking the one interviewed if he has

anything he would like brought out or developed. When the interview has

been granted freely, such a question is no more than a courtesy due the

prominent man. But only under extraordinary circumstances should a

reporter agree to submit his copy for criticism before publication. Many

a good story has had all the piquancy taken out of it by giving the one

interviewed an opportunity to change his mind or to see in cold print

just what he said,--a fact that accounts for so many repudiated

interviews. In nine cases out of ten the newspaper man has reported the

distinguished visitor exactly, but the write-up looks different from

what the speaker expected. Then he denies the whole thing, and the

reporter is made the scapegoat, because the man quoted is a public

personage and the reporter is not.

=183. Fairness in the Interview.=--The first aim of the interviewer,

however, must always be fairness, accuracy, and absence of personal

bias. No other journalistic tool can be so greatly abused or made so

unfair a weapon as the interview. One should make no attempt to color a

man's opinions as expressed in an interview, no matter how much one may

disagree, nor should one "editorialize" on those ideas. If the paper

cares to discuss their truth or saneness, it will entrust that matter to

the editorial writers. This caution does not mean that a writer may not

break into the paragraphs of quotation to explain the speaker's meaning

or to elaborate upon a possible effect of his position. Such

interruptions are regularly made and are entirely legitimate, and it

will be noted in the Bryan story on page 131 that most of that article

consists of such explanation and elaboration. If, however, the reporter

feels that the utterances of the speaker are such that they should not

go unchallenged, he should obtain and quote a reply from a local man of

prominence.

=184. Coherence and Proportion.=--Next to accuracy there should be kept

in view the intent to make the sequence and proportion of the ideas

logical, no matter in what order or at what length they may have been

given by the one interviewed. Often in conversation a man will give more

time to an idea than is its due, and often the most important part of an

interview will not be introduced until the last. Or, again, a person may

drift away from the immediate topic and not return to it for some

minutes. In all such cases it is the duty of the reporter to regroup and

develop the ideas so that they shall follow each other logically in the

printed interview and shall present the thought and the real spirit of

what the man wanted to say.

=185. Identifying the One Interviewed.=--Probably the most used and the

easiest method of gaining coherence between the lead and the body of the

interview is by a paragraph of explanation regarding the person, and how

he came to give the interview. It is remarkable how many readers do not

remember or have never heard the name of the governor of New York or the

senior senator from California or the Secretary of the Navy, and it is

therefore necessary to make entirely clear the position or rank of the

person and his right to be heard and believed. In the following story,

note how the writer dwells on the rank of the Oxford University

professor as a lecturer and so inspires the reader with confidence in

his statements:

| =MODERN DRESS CALLED A JOKE= |

| |

|"Look at our modern dress. Both men's and women's |

|costumes are, on the whole, as bad as they can be." |

| |

|Prof. I. B. Stoughton Holborn of Oxford University |

|is in Chicago to deliver a series of lectures on art|

|for the University of Chicago Lecture Association. |

|In an interview Saturday afternoon he vigorously |

|ridiculed modern dress. |

| |

|Prof. Holborn is perhaps the most widely known of |

|the Oxford and Cambridge university extension |

|lecturers and has the reputation of being one of the|

|most successful art lecturers in the world. He is |

|the hero of an adventure on the sinking Lusitania. |

|He saved Avis Dolphin, a 12-year-old child who was |

|being sent to England to be educated. The two women |

|in whose charge Mrs. Dolphin had sent her daughters |

|were lost, and Prof. Holborn has adopted the |

|child.... |

=186. Handling Conversation.=--It should not be necessary to caution a

newspaper man against attempting to report all a man says. "Condense as

often as possible" is the interviewer's watchword,--"cut to the bone,"

as the reporters express it. Much of what a man says in conversation is

prolix. In that part of the interview that is dull or wordy, give the

pith of what is said in one or two brief sentences, then fall into

direct quotation again when his words become interesting. As a rule,

however, it is well as far as possible to quote his exact language all

through the interview, since the interest of an interview frequently

rests not only in what a man says, but in the way he says it. This does

not mean a cut-and-dried story consisting of a series of questions and

answers, but a succession of sparkling, personal paragraphs containing

the direct statements of the speaker.

=187. Mannerisms.=--The report may be livened up greatly with bits of

description portraying the speaker and his surroundings, particularly

when they harmonize or contrast with his character or the ideas

expressed. An excellent device for presenting the spirit of an

interview--giving an atmosphere, as it were--is to interpolate at

intervals in the story personal eccentricities or little mannerisms of

speech of the one interviewed. Mention of pet phrases, characteristic

gestures, sudden display of anger, unexplainable reticence in answering

questions, etc., will sometimes be more effective than columns of what

the speaker actually said. Indeed, it is often of as much importance to

pay as close attention to incidentals as to the remarks of the one

talking.

=188. Persons Refusing to Talk.=--In nine cases out of ten it is the

reporter's duty both to keep himself out of the story and to suppress

the questions by which the man interviewed has been induced to talk. But

when he has failed entirely in gaining admission to one he wishes to

interview, or, having gained admission, has not succeeded in making him

talk, the would-be interviewer may still present a good story by

narrating his foiled efforts or by quoting the questions which the great

man refused to answer. One of the most brilliant examples that the

present writer has seen of the foiled interview was one by Mr. John

Edwin Nevin the day before Mr. William Jennings Bryan surrendered his

portfolio as Secretary of State in President Wilson's cabinet. The

nation was at white heat over the contents of the prospective note to

Germany and the possibility of the United States being drawn into the

war. Not a word of what the note contained had leaked from any source

and there had been no hint of a break in the Wilson cabinet. Supposedly,

all was harmony. Yet this correspondent, judging from the excited manner

of the Secretary of State, the sharpness of his noncommittal replies,

and his preoccupied air as he emerged from the cabinet room, scented the

trouble and published the following story hours before other

correspondents had their eyes opened to the history-making events

occurring about them:

| =BRYAN BALKS AT GERMAN NOTE= |

| |

|Washington, D. C., June 8.--President Wilson at 1:15|

|this afternoon announced, through Secretary Tumulty,|

|that at the cabinet meeting to-day the note to |

|Germany "was gone over and discussed and put in |

|final shape, and it is hoped that it will go |

|to-morrow," but Secretary of State Bryan is |

|determined to fight for a modification right up to |

|the minute that the note is cabled to Berlin. |

| |

|Bryan believes the United States is on record for |

|arbitration and that it would be a mockery to send |

|Germany a document which, he considers, savors of an|

|ultimatum. Although the majority of the cabinet was |

|against him to-day, he carried his persuasive powers|

|from the cabinet meeting to the University Club, |

|where he and his fellow members had lunch. |

| |

|Bryan's attitude came as a complete surprise to the |

|President. In previous notes Mr. Bryan took the |

|position that the United States should invite |

|arbitration. He called attention to the fact that |

|this country is on record as unalterably opposed to |

|war and pledged to every honorable means to prevent |

|it. |

| |

|But in every instance he has stopped short of any |

|further fight when the note has been approved by the|

|majority of the cabinet. And the President expected |

|that he would do this to-day. In fact, before the |

|cabinet meeting it was stated that the note would |

|have the approval of all members of the cabinet. |

| |

|The first intimation that anything was wrong came |

|when the Secretary did not show up at the executive |

|offices with the other cabinet members. His absence |

|was not at first commented upon because Count von |

|Bernstorff, the German ambassador, was at the state |

|department. However, it was soon ascertained that |

|the ambassador was conferring with Counselor |

|Lansing. |

| |

|Then it was rumored that Secretary Bryan had sent |

|word to President Wilson that he would not stand for|

|the note as framed. Inquiry at the White House |

|revealed the fact that Secretary Bryan had sent word|

|that he would be in his office, working on an |

|important paper, and would be late. At the state |

|department, Eddie Savoy, the Secretary's colored |

|messenger, refused to take any cards in to Bryan. He|

|said he did not know whether his chief actually |

|intended attending the meeting. |

| |

|"He is very busy, and I cannot disturb him," Eddie |

|stated. |

| |

|At the White House a distinct air of tension was |

|manifested. All inquiries as to what Secretary Bryan|

|was going to do were ignored. |

| |

|Finally, about 12 o'clock, Secretary Bryan left his |

|office and came across the street. His face was |

|flushed and his features hard set. He responded to |

|inquiries addressed to him with negative shakes of |

|the head. He swung into the cabinet room with the |

|set stride with which he mounted the steps of the |

|Baltimore platform to deliver his famous speech |

|attacking Charles F. Murphy and Tammany Hall, and |

|precipitating his break with Champ Clark, whose |

|nomination for the presidency up to that time seemed|

|assured. |

| |

|For more than an hour after he reached the cabinet |

|room the doors were closed. Across the hall the |

|President's personal messenger had erected a screen |

|to keep the curious at a distance. |

| |

|At last the door was thrown open with a bang. First |

|to emerge were Secretaries McAdoo and Redfield, who |

|brushed through the crowd of newspaper |

|representatives. They referred all inquiries to the |

|President. Secretary of War Garrison came out alone.|

|He refused to say a word regarding the note. There |

|was an interval of nearly ten minutes. Then |

|Secretaries Daniels and Wilson came out. Behind them|

|was Attorney General Gregory, and, bringing up the |

|rear, was Secretary Bryan. Bryan's face was still |

|set. His turned-down collar was damp and his face |

|was beaded with perspiration. |

| |

|"Was the note to Germany completed?" he was asked. |

| |

|"I cannot discuss what transpired at the cabinet |

|meeting," was his sharp reply. |

| |

|"Can you clear up the mystery and tell us when the |

|note will go forward to Berlin?" persisted |

|inquirers. |

| |

|"That I would not care to discuss," said the |

|Secretary, as he joined Secretary Lane. "I am not in|

|a position to make any announcement of any sort now.|

|I will tell you when the note actually has started."|

| |

|Ordinarily, Secretary Bryan goes from a cabinet |

|meeting to his office, drinks a bottle of milk and |

|eats a sandwich. To-day he entered Secretary Lane's |

|carriage and, with Lane and Secretary Daniels, |

|proceeded to the University Club for luncheon. |

| |

|It is understood that Secretary Bryan took to the |

|cabinet meeting a memorandum in which he justified |

|his views that the proposed note is not of a |

|character that the United States should send to |

|Germany. He took the position that the United |

|States, in executing arbitration treaties with most |

|of the countries of the world, took a direct |

|position against war. As he put it, on great |

|questions of national honor, the sort that make for |

|welfare, arbitration is the only remedy. |

| |

|Secretary Bryan is understood to have urged that the|

|United States could stand firmly for its rights and |

|not close the doors to any explanation that |

|Germany--or any other belligerent--might make. It is|

|understood that Bryan pointed out that Germany had |

|accepted the principles of the arbitration treaties |

|as a general proposition, but failed to execute the |

|treaty because of the European War breaking out. Her|

|opponents enjoy the advantages under such a treaty, |

|and Secretary Bryan insisted that Germany should not|

|be denied the same rights.... |

| |

|Although Secretary Bryan will continue his efforts |

|to modify the note, persons close to the President |

|insist that he will fail. The President is said to |

|have decided, after hearing all arguments, that the |

|safest course is to remain firm in the demand that |

|American rights under international law be |

|preserved. And it is expected that when the note is |

|finally O. K.'d by Counselor Lansing, it will be |

|sent to Germany. |

| |

|There is speculation as to whether Secretary Bryan |

|will sign the note as Secretary of State. He has |

|angrily refused to take any positive position on the|

|subject. If he should refuse, his retirement from |

|the cabinet would be certain. Bryan's friends insist|

|that he has been loyal to the President and has made|

|many concessions to meet the latter's wishes. They |

|believe that he will content himself with a protest |

|and again bow to the will of his chief. But there |

|was no way of getting any confirmation of this |

|opinion from Bryan. |

| |

|This is the first serious friction that has |

|developed in President Wilson's cabinet. Politicians|

|declare it will have far-reaching effect. Bryan has |

|fought consistently for arbitration principles. And |

|he now considers, some of his friends think, that |

|they have been ridden over rough-shod.[19]... |

[19] John Edwin Nevin in _The Omaha News_,

June 8, 1915.

The next morning President Wilson announced his acceptance of Mr.

Bryan's resignation as Secretary of State.

=189. Value of Inference in the Foiled Interview.=--The reporter who

would attain success in his profession should not fail to study with

care this story by Mr. Nevin, to learn not so much what the story

contains as what the person who wrote it had to know and had to be able

to do before he could turn out such a piece of work. One should analyze

it to see how startlingly few new facts the correspondent had in his

possession at the time he was writing, and how he played up those

lonesome details with a premonition of coming events that was uncanny.

Above all, the prospective reporter should observe with what rare

judgment and accuracy the writer noted in Mr. Bryan's demeanor a few

distinctive incidents which were at once both trivial and yet laden with

suggestions of events to come. To produce this story the writer had to

know not only a man, but men. A cub would have got nothing; this man

scooped the best correspondents of the nation.

=190. Series of Interviews.=--In a story containing a number of

interviews, let the lead feature the consensus of opinion expressed in

the interviews. Then follow in the body with the individual quotations,

each man's name being placed prominently at the beginning of the

paragraph containing his interview, so that in a rapid reading of the

story the eye may catch readily the change from the words of one man to

another. When there is a large number of such interviews, the name may

even be set in display type at the beginning of the paragraph. If,

however, the persons interviewed are not at all prominent, but their

statements are worth while, the quotations may be given successively and

the names buried within the paragraph.

=191. Leads for Speeches.=--In comparison with handling an interview, a

report of a speech is an easy task. In the case of the sermon or the

lecture, typewritten copies are almost always available and the

thoughts are presented in orderly sequence. So if the reporter has

followed the advice given in Part II, Chapter VII, and taken longhand

notes of a speech, or has not been so engrossed in mere note-taking that

he has been unable to follow the trend of the speaker's thought, he will

experience comparatively little trouble in writing up the speech. He may

begin in any one of a half-dozen or more ways. He may feature: (1) the

speaker's theme; (2) the title of the address, which may or may not be

the theme; (3) a sentence or a paragraph of forceful direct quotation;

(4) an indirect quotation of one or more dynamic statements; (5) the

speaker's name; (6) the occasion of the speech; or (7) the time or the

place of delivery. Any one of these may be played up according to its

importance in the address.

=192. Featuring a Single Sentence.=--Of the seven or eight different

kinds of lead, a quotation of a single sentence or a single paragraph is

happiest if one can be found that will give the keynote of the speech or

will harmonize with a declared policy of the paper. Thus:

|"It is the traitor god Love that makes men tell |

|foolish lies and women tell the fool truth," said |

|Prof. Henry Acheson last night in his lecture on |

|"Flirts." |

|"The devil has gone out of fashion. After a long and|

|honorable career as truant officer, he has finally |

|been buried with his fathers. That is why twentieth |

|century men and women don't attend church." Such was|

|Dr. Amos Buckwin's explanation yesterday of the |

|church-going problem. |

=193. Random Statements.=--Emphasis should be laid on the value of

playing up in the lead even a random statement if it chances to agree

with a specific policy or campaign to which the paper has committed

itself. In a non-political address or sermon an unwary statement

touching national, state, or city politics makes an excellent feature

if it favors the policies of the paper. Its worth lies in the fact that

it is manifestly unprejudiced and advanced by the speaker with no

ulterior motive. On the other hand, such a statement may well be ignored

if opposed to the paper's political or civic views. For example, note in

the following lead a feature played up solely because the paper was

Democratic in its politics:

|"I was a student in one of the classes taught by |

|Woodrow Wilson. Anyone who has ever seen the lower |

|part of his facial anatomy knows that when he says |

|'no' he does not mean 'yes,'" said Bishop Theodore |

|Henderson at the Methodist Church yesterday morning.|

| |

|It was not a political sermon. Aside from what |

|political significance the above quotation might |

|have, there was nothing political about his |

|discourse. He brought it out in referring to the |

|President doing away with the inaugural ball in |

|1915, which he nearly classed as a drunken orgy run |

|by politicians. He was emphasizing the President's |

|"no," that his family would not be present even if |

|he himself had to attend. |

As in this story, however, the writer must be careful always to make

clear the precise relation of the featured quotation to the speech as a

whole.

=194. Indirect Quotation.=--The chief reason for quoting indirectly in

the lead a single statement of a speaker is the need of shifting an

important point to the very first.

|That an inordinate indulgence in mere amusement is |

|softening the fiber of the American nation and |

|sapping its vitality, was the statement of Allen A. |

|Pendel, president of the Southwest Press Company, at|

|the monthly meeting of the Crust Breakers, Saturday.|

=195. Title Featured.=--The use of the subject of the speech as a

feature is advisable when it is particularly happy or when it expresses

the theme of the address.

|"The National Importance of Woman's Health" was the |

|subject of Dr. A. T. Schofield's lecture at the |

|Institute of Hygiene, Wednesday. |

|Taking as his subject, "The Tragedy of the |

|Unprepared," the Rev. Otis Colleman delivered a |

|powerful attack in Grace Church Sunday against |

|unpreparedness in one's personal life and in the |

|home, the state, and the nation. |

=196. Theme Featured.=--The theme may be featured when a single-sentence

quotation cannot readily be found and the subject does not indicate the

nature of the address.

|Condemnation of the twentieth-century woman's dress |

|was voiced at the Ninth International Purity |

|Congress by Rev. Albion Smith, Madison, Wis., who |

|spoke on "Spirit Rule vs. Animal Rule for Men and |

|Women." |

=197. Summary Lead.=--Oftentimes the theme lead shades into a

summarizing lead and the two become one of indirect quotation. Long

summarizing leads of speeches are to be avoided as a rule, since they

are liable to become overloaded and cumbersome. When using this lead,

the writer must be particularly careful to see that the individual

clauses are relatively short and simple in structure and that the

relation of each to the other and to the sentence as a whole is

absolutely clear.

|Stating that the public schools are the greatest |

|instrument for the development of socialism in this |

|country, that the socialists must get control of the|

|courts, that the party is not developing as rapidly |

|at present as it did a few years ago, and that the |

|opportunity that exists in this country for the |

|individual has been largely to blame for the slow |

|development of the Socialist party in America, John |

|C. Kennedy, Socialist speaker and member of the |

|Chicago common council, spoke on "The Outlook for |

|Socialism in America" at the Social Democratic |

|picnic held in Pabst Park on Sunday. |

=198. Speaker's Name Featured.=--The speaker's name comes first, of

course, only when he is sufficiently prominent locally or nationally to

justify featuring him.

|Billy Sunday made the devil tuck his tail between |

|his legs and skedaddle Friday night. |

|Justice Charles E. Hughes, of the Supreme Court of |

|the United States, came to New York yesterday as the|

|guest of the New York State Bar Association, which |

|is holding its thirty-ninth annual meeting in this |

|city. In the evening at the Astor Hotel he delivered|

|a scholarly address before that body on the topic, |

|"Some Aspects of the Development of American Law." |

|Then he shook hands with several hundreds of the |

|members of the association and their friends, turned|

|around and went right back again to the seclusion of|

|the Supreme Court Chamber in Washington. |

=199. Featuring the Occasion.=--Featuring the occasion of a speech or

the auspices under which it was given is justifiable only when the

speech and the speaker are of minor importance.

|Before the first hobo congress ever held in the |

|world William Eads Howe, millionaire president of |

|the convention, spoke Monday on the need of closer |

|union among passengers on the T. P. and W. |

=200. Featuring Time and Place.=--Only rarely is the time or the place

featured. But either may be played up when sufficiently important.

|Speaking from the door of Col. Henry Cook's chicken |

|house on Ansley Road to an audience of 250 colored |

|brethren in a neighboring barn, the Rev. Ezekiel |

|Butler, colored, began in a pouring rain Sunday |

|night the first service of the annual Holly Springs |

|open-air meetings. |

=201. Featuring Several Details.=--When the speaker, the subject, the

occasion, and the place are all important, it may be needful to make a

long summarizing lead of several paragraphs, explaining all these

features in detail. In such a case a quarter- or a half-column may be

required before one can get to the address itself. The following story

of President Wilson's first campaign speech for reelection, delivered at

Pittsburgh on January 29, 1916, is an illustration:

=WILSON BEGINS CAMPAIGN=

_Name first_

|President Wilson as "trustee of the ideals of |

|America," to employ his own phrase, has taken his |

|case to the people. |

_Occasion_

|He opened here to-day the most momentous |

|speech-making tour perhaps made by a President |

|within a generation with an appeal to keep national |

|preparedness out of partisan politics and to give it|

|no place as a possible campaign issue. |

_Effect on Audience_

|The nonpartisanship urged by the President was |

|reflected in Pittsburg's greeting to the executive. |

_Circumstances and Place_

|A Republican ex-Congressman, James Francis Burke, |

|presided at the meeting under the auspices of the |

|chamber of commerce in Soldiers' Memorial Hall. |

|"Preparedness is a matter of patriotism, not of |

|party," he said. |

_Story backtracks here_

_Audience_

|Pittsburg's welcome to the President and Mrs. Wilson|

|was warm, but not demonstrative. When the |

|speechmaking began, Memorial Hall was packed with an|

|audience of 4,500, while on the steps and plaza |

|outside some 8,000 or 10,000 men and women surged, |

|unable to get admission, but eager to get a glimpse |

|of the executive and his bride. |

_Reception by Audience_

|When the presidential party, Mrs. Wilson in front, |

|filed on the platform there was a demonstration, |

|brief but spontaneous, the first lady of the land |

|drawing as prolonged applause as her husband on his |

|appearance. |

_Attitude of Audience_

|The audience was an intent one. Its pose was one of |

|keen attention to the President's utterances. |

_Applause_

|Occasionally a particularly facile phrase, such as |

|when the President spoke of the need of "spiritual |

|efficiency" as a basis for military efficiency, |

|started the hand-clapping and gusts of applause |

|swept through the hall. |

_General Effect of the Visit_

|For Pennsylvania, Republican stronghold, which gave |

|Roosevelt a plurality of 51,000 over Wilson in 1912,|

|the reception accorded the President is regarded as |

|quite satisfactory. Downtown in the business |

|district there was hardly a ripple. |

_Inquisitive Crowds_

|But in the neighborhood of the Hotel Schenley, out |

|by the Carnegie Institute, a large crowd turned out |

|a few hours after the President's arrival and kept |

|their glances on the seventh floor, which was banked|

|in roses and orchids. |

_Beginning of the Speech_

|"As your servant and representative, I should come |

|and report to you on our public affairs," the |

|President began. "It is the duty of every public man|

|to hold frank counsel with the people he |

|represents."[20] ... |

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

January 30, 1916.

=202. Body of the Story.=--In writing the body of the story, the first

thing to strive for is proper coherence with the lead. This caution is

worth particular heed when the lead contains a single-sentence

quotation, an indirect question, or a paragraph of direct statement from

somewhere in the body of the speech. Few things are more incongruous in

a story than a clever epigrammatic lead and a succession of quoted

statements following, none of which exhibits a definite bearing on the

lead. Oftentimes this incongruity is produced by the reporter's attempt

to follow the precise order adopted by the speaker. Such an order,

however, should be manifestly impossible in a news report when the

writer has dug out for use in the lead a lone sentence or paragraph from

the middle of the speech. Rather, one should continue such a lead with a

paragraph or so of development, then follow with paragraphs of direct

quotation which originally may or may not have preceded the idea

featured in the lead.

=203. Accuracy.=--The second consideration must be the same accuracy

and fairness that was emphasized in the discussion of the interview.

Some reporters, for instance, take the liberty of putting within

quotation marks, as though quoted directly, whole paragraphs that they

know are not given verbatim, their grounds for the liberty being that

they know they are reporting the speaker with entire accuracy, and the

use of "quotes" gives the story greater emphasis and intimacy of appeal.

This liberty is to be condemned. When a reporter puts quotation marks

about a phrase or clause, he declares to his readers that the other man,

not he, is responsible for the statement exactly as printed. And even

though a man may think he is reporting a speaker with absolute

precision, there is always the possibility that he may have

misunderstood. Indeed, it is just these chance misunderstandings that

trip reporters and frequently necessitate speakers' denying published

accounts of their lectures. Only what one has taken down verbatim should

be put within quotation marks. All else should be reported indirectly

with an unwavering determination to convey the real spirit of the

lecture or sermon, not to play up an isolated or random subtopic that

has little bearing on the speech as a whole. Any reporter can find in

any lecture statements which, taken without the accompanying

qualifications, may be adroitly warped to make the story good and the

speaker ridiculous in the eyes of the reading public.

=204. Speech Story as a Whole.=--The story as a whole should be a little

speech in itself. Whole topics may be omitted. Others that possibly

occupied pages of manuscript and took several minutes to present may be

cut down to a single sentence. Still others may be presented in full.

But the quotation marks and the cohering phrases, such as "said he,"

"continued the speaker," "Mr. Wilson said in part," etc., should be

carefully inserted so as to make it entirely clear to the reader when

the statements are a condensation of the speaker's remarks and when they

are direct quotations. Such connecting phrases, however, should be

placed in unemphatic positions within the paragraph and should have

their form so varied as not to attract undue attention. And as in the

interview, the report as a whole should be livened up at intervals with

phrases and paragraphs calling attention to characteristic gestures,

facial expressions, and individual eccentricities of the speaker's

person, manner, or dress.

=205. Series of Speeches.=--When reporting a series of speeches, as at a

banquet, convention, political picnic, or a holiday celebration, it

generally is the best policy to play up at length the strongest address,

or else the speech of the most important personage, then summarize the

remaining talks in a paragraph or so at the end of the story. If all are

of about equal importance, the lead may feature the general trend of

thought of the different speakers or else some single startling

statement setting forth the character and spirit of the meeting. The

story may then proceed with summarizing quotations or indirect

statements of the individual speakers, giving each space according to

the value of his address. Where the body of the story is made up of

direct and indirect quotations from several speeches, the speaker's name

should come first in the paragraph in which he is quoted, so that the

eye of the reader running rapidly down the column may catch readily that

portion of the story given to each person quoted.

=206. Banquets, Conventions, etc.=--Not always, however, are speeches

important, or even delivered, on these social, political, and holiday

occasions. If not, the reporter must devote his attention to the

occasion, to any unusual incidents or events, or to the persons

attending. In reporting banquets, it may be the persons present, the

novelty of the favors, the originality of the menu, or the occasion

itself that must be featured. In conventions it may be the purpose or

expected results, certain effects on national or state legislation, or

any departures or new ideas in evidence. In reporting conventions of

milliners, tailors, jewelers, and the like, one can always find

excellent features in the incoming styles. The public is greedy for

stories of advance styles. In political picnics the feature is

practically always the speeches, though sometimes there are athletic

contests that provide good copy and may be presented in accordance with

Part III, Chapter XVI. In holiday celebrations also the feature may be

speeches or athletic contests, or else parades of floats, fraternal

orders, soldiers, etc. Usually, however, the occurrence of some untoward

accident that mars the occasion itself furnishes a story feature of

greater importance than the monotony of the parade and the contests.

=207. Current Magazine Articles, etc.=--News stories of articles

appearing in current magazines, books, government publications,

educational journals, and the like are of the same type as stories of

addresses. The lead may feature the theme, the title, the author, a

single sentence, an entire paragraph, the society or organization

publishing the article or report, or even the motive back of the

article. And the body follows usually with direct quotations summarizing

the whole. Such news stories generally are very readable, particularly

if they are timely. But the reporter must be careful to avoid extended

analysis or learned comment. A long catalogue of errors with the page on

which each may be found is good in scholarly magazines, but worthless in

news columns. The reporter's office is to write for the entertainment

and enlightenment of the public, not for the instruction of the author

about whose article he is writing. Hence he should report only those

details that are of interest to the readers of his journal.

=208. Courts.=--Court, trial, and inquest stories are but a combination

of the methods of handling interviews and speeches, the questions and

answers of the attorneys and witnesses being the interviews, the

arguments of the lawyers and the decisions of the court being the

speeches. The writing of the court story as a whole follows closely the

method already outlined for interviews and speeches. The lead, however,

varies greatly accordingly to the stage of the court proceedings. If a

verdict has been brought in, the guilt or innocence of the defendant,

the penalty imposed, or an application for a rehearing may be featured,

and the body of the story continues with a statement from the prisoner,

quotations from the speeches of the opposing attorneys, and the judge's

charge to the jury. If the trial has reached only an intermediate stage,

the lead may feature the cause of the court proceedings, a significant

bit of testimony, the name of an important witness, the point reached in

the day's work, the probable length of the trial, any unusual clash of

the attorneys over the admission of certain testimony, or possibly the

prisoner's changed attitude resulting from the long nervous strain. Then

the body, as in reports of speeches, may follow with interesting bits of

quotation from the testimony or from the arguments of the attorneys,

with summarizing paragraphs of the evidence and the proceedings as a

whole. Occasionally, in order to bring out significant points in the

depositions, it may become necessary to quote verbatim questions and

answers in the cross-examination, but generally a more readable story

may be had by reporting the testimony continuously and omitting the

questions altogether. Even when playing up a court decision, it is

rarely wise to quote large extracts verbatim, owing to the heaviness of

legal expression and the frequent use of technical terms. Only when the

form of the decision, as well as the facts, is vital, should the

language of the decree be quoted at length. And even then it is better,

as a rule, to print the entire decision separately and write an

independent summarizing story. When writing up trials continued from

preceding days, one must be careful to connect the story with what has

gone before, explaining who the persons are, the cause of their

appearance in court, and where the trial is being conducted. Only in

this way can readers who have not kept up with the trial understand the

present story.

=209. Humorous Court Stories.=--A word of caution must be given against

the temptation to write court stories humorously at the expense of

accuracy and the feelings of those unfortunate ones drawn into public

notice by some one's transgression of law or ethics. The law of libel

and its far-reaching power has been dwelt on in Part II, Chapter X, and

it need not be emphasized here that libel lurks in wrong street numbers,

misspelled names, misplaced words and phrases, and even in accidental

resemblance between names and between personal descriptions. But the

reporter should be cautioned against warping facts for the sake of

making a good story. Those who stand before the bar of justice, no

matter for what cause, how wrong or how right, are keenly sensitive

about even the publication of their names. Indeed, it is fear of

newspaper notoriety that keeps many a man from seeking and obtaining

that justice which is due every individual at the hands of the law. The

present writer has seen many an innocent person in a state of nervous

collapse over a barbed thrust made by a satirizing humorist in the

columns of a paper. No criticism is made of true reports; objection is

made only to those warped for the sake merely of producing a good story.

In a leading Southern paper appeared the following:

| =FROGEYE HAD A RIVAL= |

| |

| Come er lef'! come er right! come er rag an' |

| shawl! |

| Come to yo' honey-bunch straight down de hall! |

| Up towa'd de front do', back towa'd de wall, |

| Gimme room to scramble at de Potlicker Ball! |

| |

|"What's this?" demanded the judge ferociously. |

|"Another Potlicker row? I'm going to have to do |

|something about you folks. You're always in hot |

|water." |

| |

|The defendants--a weird assortment of the youth and |

|beauty of the Black Belt, their finery somewhat |

|damaged after a night behind the bars--shifted |

|uneasily on their respective number nines. A |

|cross-eyed mulatto had the courage to speak, albeit |

|a trifle morosely. |

| |

|"Us ain't in no hot water, jedge," she drawled. "Us |

|ain't been doin' nothin' but dancin'." |

| |

|"What's your name, girl?" inquired the clerk. |

| |

|He was answered by Frogeye, who celebrated his |

|latest release from gaol by attending the Potlicker |

|Ball. "Dat's Three-Finger Fanny," stated Frogeye in |

|a voice of authority. "She done start de hull |

|rucus." |

| |

|Three-Finger Fanny bridled. Before she could open |

|her mouth, Frogeye plunged into the tale: "Ef it |

|hadn't er been fo' dat three-fingered, cross-eyed, |

|blistered-footed gal we'd er been dar dancin' yit. |

|But she an Bugabear spill de beans. She come up ter |

|me an' say, 'Mister Frogeye, kin you ball de Jack?' |

|I tells her she don't see no chains on me, do she? |

|An' we whirl right in. Hoccome I knowed she promise |

|dat dance ter Bugabear? We ain't ball de Jack twice |

|'roun' fo' heah he come wid er beer bottle shoutin' |

|dat I done tuk his gal erway. I'se 'bleeged ter |

|'fend mahse'f, ain't I, jedge? Well, den!" |

| |

|The conclusion of Frogeye's story lacked climax, but|

|apparently the judge got the gist of it, for he |

|said: "It seems to me all of you dancers need a |

|summer vacation. They say there's nothing like a |

|little arm work to improve the grip. Thirty days, |

|everybody!" |

But every reader knows that in one round-up of negro malefactors,

characters such as Frogeye, Three-Finger Fanny, and Bugabear are not

going to be arrested at one "Potlicker Ball." The story is a good one if

the reader will suspend his sense of realism sufficiently to enjoy it.

But in its purport to be a true account of an arrest and a trial of

certain persons, it makes one doubt first the story, then the newspaper

that printed it, and finally newspapers in general. And so develops one

of the main causes of criticism of the modern newspaper. A reporter must

resolve to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. A

journal loses its power the moment it is wrong.

XV. ACCIDENT, CRIME

=210. Accident and Crime Stories.=--Accident and crime stories are

grouped together because they are handled alike and because they differ

from each other only in point of view, or in the fact that in the one

some one is guilty of lawbreaking, while in the other the participants

are merely unfortunate. The two, of course, frequently overlap, since a

death or a wreck which at first may seem purely accidental may later

prove to have been the result of a criminal act. In this chapter,

however, accident stories will be taken to include fires, street-car

smash-ups, railroad wrecks, automobile collisions, runaways, explosions,

mine disasters, strokes of lightning, drownings, floods, storms,

shipwrecks, etc. In the list of crime will be placed murders, assaults,

suicides, suspicious deaths, robberies, embezzlements, arson, etc. Of

the accident class, the method of writing a fire story may be taken as a

type for the whole group.

=211. Lead to a Fire Story.=--Ordinarily the lead to a story of a fire

should tell what was destroyed, the location of the property, the extent

of the damage, the occupants or owners, the time, the cause, and what

made the loss possible,--answering, in other words, the questions _who_,

_what_, _when_, _where_, _why_, _how_, and _how much_. Thus:

|Fire originating in a pile of shavings crawled |

|across a 100-yard stretch of dry Bermuda grass at an|

|early hour this morning, destroying the cotton |

|warehouse at 615 Railroad Street, owned by J. O. |

|Hunnicut, president of the First National Bank. The |

|loss is $25,000 with no insurance. |

=212. Lives Lost or Endangered.=--The fire lead may feature any one or

more of a dozen individual incidents. Loss of, or danger to, life,

unless other features are exceptional, should take precedence over every

other particular.

|Six women are dead and ten seriously injured as a |

|result of the destruction by fire, Tuesday morning, |

|of the Gold and Green Club, 1818 Chestnut Street, |

|entailing a loss of $30,000. |

=213. Lists of Killed or Wounded.=--In writing a story where a number of

persons have been killed or injured, the reporter should observe the

following directions:

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

list of dead first.

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

3. Put each name, with the age, address, occupation or business, nature

and extent of the injury, and any care given, in a separate paragraph.

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

display type.

| =BOYS SMOKE IN HAYLOFT= |

| |

|Three boys borrowed their father's pipes and took |

|their first lesson in smoking yesterday in John |

|Cadie's hayloft on the Anton road. |

| |

| =The Dead= |

| |

|=Heinie Pindle, 8 years old, charred body found in |

|ashes of the barn.= |

| |

| =The Injured= |

| |

|=Olin Swendson, 9 years old, burned about face and |

|arms while trying to save Heinie Pindle.= |

| |

|=Ben Adams, 9 years old, leg broken in jump from the|

|hayloft.= |

=214. Acts of Heroism.=--Acts of heroism involving danger to or loss of

life are always good for features.

|Remaining at her post through the thick of the fire |

|that destroyed the heart of Necedah to-day, |

|Wisconsin's only woman telephone magnate, Miss Hazel|

|Bulgar, proved the heroine of the day. While the |

|flames threatened her building, she took the |

|switchboard herself, called the fire departments of |

|all neighboring cities, and transmitted calls for |

|help. |

=215. Remarkable Escapes.=--Remarkable escapes from burning buildings,

in their appeal to the elemental struggle for life, make valuable

features.

|Using a window blind and a single thread of |

|telephone wire as a means of escape, Carl Hardiman, |

|24, 216 Northcliff avenue, swung himself into space |

|four stories above the level of the street at 8:00 |

|o'clock this morning and crawled hand over hand from|

|the burning wax factory to a telephone pole across |

|the street. |

=216. Humorous, Pathetic, or Daring Incidents.=--Humorous, pathetic, or

daring incidents are worth featuring strongly, particularly when they

involve children, aged persons, or animals.

|Tige, aged 4, was only a collie dog, but he will |

|have the biggest funeral to-morrow ever given a |

|member of the Lilliman family. He dragged two of the|

|children out of the blazing kitchen at 487 |

|Birmingham avenue and was so badly burned trying to |

|save the nine months baby, Dan, that he died this |

|morning. Every hair was burned from his body. |

|Just inside the front entrance, within six inches of|

|God's fresh air and life, the bodies of 21 girls, |

|ranging in age from 6 to 18 years, were found this |

|morning after the fire that destroyed the St. |

|Patrick's Girls' school. |

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

may be featured.

|A set of cotton Santa Claus whiskers and a Christmas|

|candle caused the death Wednesday night of Allen |

|Palmer, 18, 1416 Magnolia Avenue, and the |

|destruction by fire of the Lake Mills Methodist |

|church. |

=218. Buildings or Property.=--The particular buildings, if especially

valuable by reason of their age, location, or cost of construction, may

be features.

|Historic Grace Episcopal Church in South Wabash |

|Avenue, considered one of the finest examples of |

|French Gothic architecture in the city since it was |

|erected nearly fifty years ago, was destroyed to-day|

|in a fire that did damage estimated at $500,000. |

| |

|The main building of the Union Switch and Signal |

|Company, of the Westinghouse interests, at |

|Swissvale, where thousands of shells have been |

|manufactured for the Allies, was swept by fire this |

|afternoon, entailing a loss estimated at $4,000,000.|

|Officials of the company said that the origin of the|

|fire had not been determined. |

=219. Other Features.=--Similarly, one may feature any one of a number

of other particulars: as, the occupants of the building, the owners, any

prominent persons involved, the amount and character of the damage, the

amount of insurance, how the fire was discovered, how it spread, when

the alarm was given, the promptness or delay of the fire department,

etc. Any one of these particulars may be featured, provided it has

unusual importance or interest.

=220. Body of the Fire Story.=--The body of the fire story may continue

with such of the details enumerated in the preceding paragraphs as are

not used in the lead. Somewhere in the story the extent of the damage

and the amount of insurance should be given. Those are sufficiently

important particulars to be included always. Greater emphasis and action

can be given the story, particularly in case of loss of life or great

damage, by quoting direct statements of eye-witnesses or of persons

injured. A janitor's account of how the fire started, or how he

discovered it, or a woman's story of how she knew the night before that

something terrible was going to happen, always adds greatly to the

interest.

=221. Rumors at Fires.=--In reporting a fire, however, particularly a

big one, the reporter should guard against the wild rumors about the

extent of the loss, the number of persons injured or burned to death,

the certainty of arson, etc., which usually gain currency among the

spectators. Such stories are always exaggerated, and they account for

the fact that first news accounts of fires are frequently overdrawn. The

reporter should never take such stories at their face value, but should

investigate for himself until he knows his details are accurate. Or if

he cannot prove them either false or true, he should omit them entirely

or record them as mere rumors. Above all, he must keep his head. With

the hundreds--sometimes thousands--of spectators pushed beyond the fire

lines, the roar of fire engines, the scream of whistles, the wild

lights, and the general pandemonium, it is often difficult to remain

calm. Yet it is only by keeping absolutely cool that one can judge

accurately the value of the information obtained and can put that

information into the best news form. Only the reporter who at all times

retains entire possession of himself is able to write the most forceful,

interesting, and readable fire stories.

=222. Accident Stories in General.=--Accident stories in general follow

the same constructive plans as those given for fires. The lead should

play up the number of lives lost or endangered, the cause of the

accident, the extent of the damage or injury, the time, and the place,

answering the questions _who_, _what_, _when_, _where_, _why,_ and

_how_. Any one of these may be featured according to its importance. If

a number of persons have been killed or hurt, and their names are

obtainable, a list of the dead and the injured should be made as

indicated on page 150. Then the body of the story may continue in simple

chronological order, reserving unimportant details until the last. The

following is a good illustration of an accident story:

| =DU PONT BLAST KILLS 31= |

| |

|Wilmington, Del., Nov. 29.--Thirty-one men were |

|killed and six fatally injured to-day in an |

|explosion of approximately four tons of black powder|

|in a packing house at the Upper Hagley yard of the |

|E. I. du Pont de Nemours & Co., on Brandywine Creek,|

|three miles north of this city. |

| |

|The cause of the explosion is not known. One |

|official says, "There is not a thread on which to |

|hang any hope that the origin will be definitely |

|ascertained." |

| |

|After the blast, termed the worst in the last |

|twenty-five years, it was recalled that notices |

|recently had been tacked on trees and fences near |

|the yards, and even on fences within the plant, |

|warning workmen to quit the mills by Jan. 1. At the |

|time, the posting of the notices was believed to be |

|an attempt by German sympathizers to intimidate the |

|men. Extra guards were ordered about the plants and |

|the United States Secret Service began an |

|investigation, it was reported. |

| |

|Du Pont Company officials have ordered a searching |

|investigation, and every employee who was near the |

|destroyed building will be put through an |

|examination in an effort to get some clue as to the |

|cause of the explosion....[21] |

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

It is worth noting, in this story, the shrewdness with which the

reporter plays up the probable cause of the accident, adding to the

actual facts and promising possible further developments in to-morrow's

paper.

=223. Stories of the Weather.=--The weather takes its place in the

accident division of news stories because of its frequent harmful

effects on life and property. Men's pursuits are all a gamble on the

weather. Usually a story about the weather depends for its value largely

on the felicity of its language, though when there has been severe

atmospheric disturbance, resulting in loss of life, destruction of

property, or delayed traffic, a simple narrative of events is sufficient

to hold the reader's attention. The following are different types of

weather story, the first being of the pure accident type, the second, of

the more commonplace daily routine.

| =TERRIFIC STORM KILLS 4= |

| |

|Rain, hail, snow, sleet, gales, thunder and |

|lightning combined in an extraordinary manner early |

|yesterday to give New York one of the most peculiar |

|storms the city ever experienced. Four persons died |

|and scores were injured. Unfinished buildings were |

|blown down, roofs were blown off, and signs |

|demolished. |

| |

|The storm played havoc with the railroads, delaying |

|trains and adding to the difficulty of moving |

|freight. It made so much trouble for the New Haven |

|that the company last night issued a notice saying |

|that "on account of storms and accumulation of |

|loaded cars" only live stock, perishable freight, |

|food products, and coal would be carried over |

|portions of the line. |

| |

|Adrift in the gale, fifteen canal barges and cargo |

|scows from South Amboy, N. J., went ashore at Sandy |

|Hook after those on board, including twenty women |

|and children, had suffered from exposure and one man|

|washed overboard from the barge Henrietta had been |

|drowned. The California and the Stockholm, with |

|passengers on board and inbound, were delayed by the|

|storm and will reach port to-day. |

| |

|The wind in Newark unroofed the almshouse, injuring |

|two aged women, blew down buildings, smashed |

|windows, and crippled the entire wire service of the|

|city....[22] |

| |

|(Then follows a detailed account of the dead, the |

|injured, and the delay of traffic.) |

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

| =COLD WAVE ON WAY HERE= |

| |

|Indianapolis to-day stands on the brink between rain|

|and snow. Before to-morrow dawns it may bend |

|slightly one way or the other, meteorologically |

|speaking, and the result will be little flakes of |

|snow or little drops of water. It is forecast that |

|to-morrow its feet will slip entirely and it will be|

|plunged into the abyss of cold weather. The forecast|

|is the work of the weather man, who has some |

|reputation locally and elsewhere as a forecaster of |

|questionable accuracy. |

| |

|Cold weather is drifting this way on northwest |

|winds, says the weather man, and soon will be hard |

|by in the offing, ready to pounce on Indianapolis. |

|The fate of Indianapolis is to be the fate of |

|Indiana also, and of the entire Middle West, for the|

|weather man is no respecter of localities, and when |

|he once gets started forecasts with utter |

|abandon.... |

| |

|The Northwest has experienced a drop of 20 degrees |

|in temperature and the cold wave is rapidly sweeping|

|this way. It is due to reach Indianapolis to-morrow |

|morning. The local forecast is for cloudy to-night |

|and Wednesday, with probabilities of rain or snow, |

|and colder Wednesday. It was the same for the state,|

|but rain was predicted for the south part and snow |

|for the north. |

| |

|The temperature in Indianapolis at 7 o'clock this |

|morning was 38 degrees, a drop of 6 degrees being |

|recorded in the last twenty-four hours. The coming |

|cold wave is expected to give this part of the |

|country its first real touch of winter. The |

|temperature hovered near the zero mark in the |

|northwest. The weather bureau reported snow in |

|Wyoming, Colorado, Nebraska, Iowa, and Minnesota.[23|]

[23] _Indianapolis News_, October 28, 1913.

To write this second type of story interestingly means that the reporter

must exert himself especially, since the daily routine of weather

reports soon becomes wearing in its monotony,--so much so that one finds

it exceedingly difficult to present with any degree of originality the

same old little-varying facts from day to day. Yet one's readers are

always interested in just this item of news, and one can be sure of

more expectant readers for this particular story than perhaps for any

other single item in the paper.

=224. Deaths and Funerals.=--Stories of deaths and funerals may be

included in the monotonous class of accident news. There is this

additional difficulty in writing death and funeral stories, however,

that in attempting to write sympathetically, appreciatively, of the

person who has died, and so meet the expectations of surviving friends

and relatives, one is running always on the border line of bathos. It is

probably easier to make oneself ridiculous in such stories than in any

other kind of news article. As a result, most newspapers require their

reporters to confine themselves to bare statements of facts concerning

the dead person's life.

=225. Content of Death Stories.=--There are a few facts which all death

stories should contain. The person's name, age, street address, and

position or business should normally be included in the lead, with

possibly a statement of the cause of his death. The duration of his

illness may well follow. Then may come the names of surviving relatives

and any relationships with persons well known, locally or nationally. If

the person is married, the date of the marriage, the maiden name of the

wife, and any interesting circumstances connected with the marriage may

be recalled. The length of residence in the city should also be

included, with possibly a statement of the person's birthplace and the

occasion of his settlement in the city. If the person is a man or a

woman of wealth, an account of his or her holdings and how they were

acquired is always interesting. The story may close with the names of

the pallbearers, the time and place of the funeral, the name of the

minister officiating, and the place of burial. The following story of

the death of Justice Lamar, while not observing the order of events just

given, is an excellent illustration of a dignified presentation of the

facts in a man's life. (The article has necessarily been abbreviated

because of its length.)

| =JUSTICE J. R. LAMAR DIES= |

| |

|Washington, D. C., Sunday.--Mr. Joseph Rucker Lamar,|

|Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United|

|States, died to-night at his home in this city after|

|an intermittent illness of several months. The |

|immediate cause of his death was a severe cold, |

|which he contracted ten days ago, and which proved |

|too great a strain for his weakened heart. |

| |

|Justice Lamar's health began to fail early last |

|summer and he was obliged to absent himself from his|

|duties on the bench. His physicians advised a long |

|period of rest, as they feared that over-work would |

|seriously affect the action of his heart. |

|Accordingly, he spent the greater part of the summer|

|at White Sulphur Springs and returned to Washington |

|about two months ago feeling much improved. |

| |

|His condition was not such, however, that it |

|permitted him to attend the sessions of the Court, |

|although he was able to take outdoor exercise. Two |

|days before Christmas he contracted a heavy cold and|

|was obliged to go to bed. Specialists were |

|consulted, but he gradually grew weaker until this |

|afternoon, when he sank into unconsciousness and |

|passed away peacefully just before nine o'clock. |

| |

|At his bedside when the end came were Mrs. Lamar and|

|their two sons. Chief Justice White arrived at the |

|Lamar home within a few minutes after the death of |

|his colleague. |

| |

|The funeral ceremonies will be in accordance with |

|the custom of the court. It is probable that the |

|services will be held on Tuesday and that interment |

|will be at the family home in Ruckersville, Ga. |

| |

|Justice Lamar was born at Ruckersville, Elbert |

|county, Ga., on October 14, 1857, the son of the |

|Rev. James S. and Mary Rucker Lamar. He attended the|

|University of Georgia. He was graduated from Bethany|

|College, West Virginia, in 1877. After a year in the|

|Washington and Lee University Law School, he was |

|admitted to the bar at Augusta, Ga. There he lived |

|until appointed to the Supreme Court. |

| |

|He was a cousin of the late Associate Justice L. Q. |

|C. Lamar, of Mississippi, who was a member of the |

|United States Supreme Court from 1888 to 1893. |

| |

|When Justice Lamar went on the Supreme Court bench |

|he was little known beyond the borders of his own |

|state. Mr. Taft became acquainted with him a short |

|time before his inauguration when the |

|President-elect was playing golf at Augusta. Justice|

|Lamar had been a member of the Supreme Court only a |

|few months, however, when his ability was |

|recognized. His opinions were regarded as |

|masterpieces of logical reasoning and applications |

|for rehearings were made in few cases he helped to |

|decide. |

| |

|Justice Lamar was selected by President Wilson as |

|the principal commissioner for the United States in |

|the ABC mediation at Niagara Falls in 1914 between |

|this country and Mexico over conditions in the |

|neighboring republic. |

| |

|Justice Lamar made many notable contributions to the|

|legal literature of his state. Among them were |

|"Georgia's Contribution to Law Reforms," "A History |

|of the Organization of the Supreme Court," "Life of |

|Judge Nesbit" and "A Century's Progress in Law." |

|More than two hundred of his opinions are embraced |

|in six volumes of Georgia Reports. |

| |

|Justice Lamar married, on January 30, 1879, Miss |

|Clarinda Pendleton, a daughter of Dr. W. K. |

|Pendleton, president of Bethany College. He is |

|survived by his wife and two children, Philip Rucker|

|Lamar and William Pendleton Lamar.[24] |

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

=226. Obtaining the Information.=--The gaining of information about a

man who has just died is not difficult. One should be cautioned,

however, against seeking details from members of the family. If the

person is of little prominence, one should go first to the undertaker.

He will have all the details about the funeral--the names of the

pallbearers and of the minister, the time and place of the funeral, the

place of burial--and probably all the facts about the person's life that

the family wishes made public. If the undertaker does not have this

information, he will be able to tell the reporter from whom it may be

obtained. Additional facts may sometimes be had from the county and

state directories, and even from the city directory. Old residents or

close friends, too, often are able to give interesting details about the

person's life, his failures and his successes, and in this way a

reporter can publish an appreciative account without editorializing on

the man's accomplishments. If the one who has died is of decided

prominence, the reporter can find accounts of him in the various _Who's

Who_ volumes and probably a rather full obituary all ready in the

morgue. One must be careful in using the morgue write-up, however, to

bridge naturally and easily the gap between the new and the old

material, so that the reader shall not suspect he is reading a story

partly written years ago. The following is an illustration of poor

coherence between the two parts:

|Paris, August 12.--Pol Plancon, the opera singer, |

|died to-day. He had been ill since June. |

| ------- |

|Pol Plancon was a bass singer and made his Paris |

|debut in the part of Mephistopheles in 1883. He came|

|to the Metropolitan Opera house in New York in 1893,|

|where he sang with Melba, Calve, Eames, Nordica and |

|Jean and Edouard de Reszke. Plancon sang for many |

|years at Covent Garden, London.... |

In this case it is too obvious that the first two sentences constitute

the bare cable bulletin and that the second paragraph is the beginning

of the morgue story.

=227. Crime Lead.=--In the lead to a crime story, one may feature

either the names of the persons involved, the number of lives lost or

endangered, the motive of the criminal, the nature of the crime, clues

leading to the identification and arrest of the criminal, possible

effects of the crime, or even public sentiment resulting from the deed.

Of the possible leads, probably the names of the persons involved,

either of the criminal or of those whose rights were infringed, are most

often played up. Thus:

|Leo M. Frank was lynched two miles outside of |

|Marietta, the home of Mary Phagan, at an early hour |

|this morning. |

|Mrs. Allie Detmann, 1409 Broad St., was shot and |

|killed yesterday by Stanley Mouldan, 1516 |

|Philadelphia Ave. The man then shot himself in the |

|right temple, dying an hour later in St. Elizabeth's|

|Hospital. |

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

Illustrations are:

_Number of Lives Lost_

|Two women are dead at the Good Shepherd's Rest |

|because Pat Nicke kept the back door of his saloon |

|open on election day. |

_Motive_

|To get money to pay for his grandmother's funeral, |

|Robert Hollyburd, 24, 1917 Monaco St., yesterday |

|robbed the cash register of the Lengerke Brothers, |

|sporting goods dealers, at 1654 Bradley St. |

_Nature of the Crime_

|The most brutal murder ever committed in Calloway |

|county was discovered at an early hour this morning |

|when the body of Dr. Otis Bennett, literally hacked |

|to pieces, was found in the basement of his home. |

_Clues_

|The Davenport police have in their possession a |

|large bone-handled knife which has been identified |

|as the property of Hugo O'Neal, colored, of Cushman.|

|The knife was found under Col. Andrew Alton's |

|bedroom window after an attempted robbery of his |

|home at an early hour this morning. O'Neal has not |

|been seen since yesterday. |

_Results_

|Tim Atkins is probably dying at his shanty on Davis |

|Street as a result of a difficulty between him and |

|Isom Werner over a woman they met on their way home |

|from the circus last night. |

=228. Body of the Crime Story.=--The body of the crime story, like that

of the accident, follows the lead in a simple chronological narration of

events. Interest may be added by quoting direct statements from persons

immediately connected with the crime,--how it feels to be held up, how

the robber gained entrance to the building, how the bandits escaped. In

stories of burglaries and robberies the value of the stolen goods and

any ingenious devices for gaining entrance to the house, stopping the

train, or halting the robbed party should always be given. It may be

added that, unless the purpose is entirely obvious, as in robberies and

burglaries, due emphasis should be given to the motive for the crime.

One should be on one's guard, however, against accepting readily any

motive assigned. The star reporter never takes anybody at his word--the

police, the detectives, or even the victims--in any statement where

crime is involved. He investigates for himself and draws his own

conclusions.

=229. Caution against Libel.=--An additional caution should be added

here against libel, because of the strong temptation always to make an

accused person guilty before he has been adjudged so. According to

American law, a person suspected of or charged with crime is innocent

until he has been proved guilty. In writing crime stories, therefore,

the reporter must be doubly careful to have a supposed criminal merely

"suspected" of misappropriating funds, or "alleged" to have made the

assault, or "said by the police" to have entered the house. And in order

to present an unbiased story, the side of the supposed malefactor should

be given. In the intense excitement resulting from a newly committed

crime, or in the squalid surroundings of a prison cell, an accused

person does not appear to his best advantage, and it is easy for the

reporter to let prejudice sway him, perhaps causing irreparable injury

to innocent persons. The race riot in Atlanta, in 1905, in which numbers

of innocent negroes were murdered, was a direct result of exaggerated

and sensational stories of crime printed by yellow newspapers. And the

whole long trial and verdict against Leo M. Frank were directly affected

by the same papers. If the opinion of readers is to be appealed to, the

reporter should leave such appeals to the editorial writers, whose duty

it is to interpret the news and sway the public whenever they will or

can. The reporter's duty, as far as possible, is to present mere facts.

XVI. SPORTS

=230. Slang.=--In writing stories of athletic meets and games the

reporter will find that in matters of language he has almost complete

freedom. For this there are two reasons: the fact that it is necessary

half the time to get final results of contests into print within a few

seconds or minutes after the outcome has been decided, and the fact that

athletic devotees--"fans" in American slang--are not naturally critical.

Time is the all-important element with them. The results of a baseball

game are wanted within a few seconds after the last man has been put out

in the final inning. Whether the writer says the Red Sox defeated the

Tigers, or nosed them out in the ninth, or handed them a lemon, means

little to the followers of the game provided the information is

specifically conveyed that Boston beat Detroit. Slang is freely

used,--so much so that the uninitiated frequently cannot understand an

account of a game. The "fans" can, however, and they constitute the

public for whom reporters on the sporting pages maintain they are

writing. If, then, one can brighten up his sporting stories--make them

sparkling, electric, galvanic--by using slang, he will find them

acceptable to any editor. The only caution to the beginner is that he

must be sure every detail is clear to the "fans." Slang can easily be

overdone,--much more easily than one would suppose,--with the result

that an otherwise good story is choked with near humorous, foggy jargon.

Better no slang than a story cloyed with it.[25]

[25] It is the belief of the author that the sporting page has

not yet reached its highest level of language and that the

younger of us will live to see as pure English used on the

sporting page as in the other news columns. The purpose of

this volume, however, is not to present the work of the

reporter as it ought to be, but as it is--a fact which

accounts for the above paragraph and its recommendation of

the use of slang in sporting news stories.

=231. Four Kinds.=--An examination of sporting news stories shows four

kinds: (1) those dealing with athletic events before their occurrence;

(2) those reporting the events; (3) those analyzing and explaining the

events and their results; and (4) those dealing with the sport in

general. The second of these, the story reporting an athletic event, is

not unlike the types of news stories examined in the two preceding

chapters and may be discussed first, reserving for later analysis the

other three because of their divergence from the normal type of news

article.

=232. The Lead.=--The lead to a story reporting an athletic event

follows with few exceptions the same general principles as the leads

already examined. Unlike those studied in the preceding chapters,

however, the lead to such a story often is written last, because of the

necessity of writing a running account of the game as it progresses, yet

of giving final results in the lead. The feature most frequently played

up is the final result, with additional mention of the causes of victory

or defeat, the equality or inequality of the opposing players, and any

important incidents. Always too, of course, the names of the teams, the

time, and the place are given. But the score is regularly the

feature,--so much so that if one is in doubt about what to feature in an

athletic contest, one can always play a trump card by featuring the

results. Thus:

|One hit and one score was all the Senators could |

|make off the Yankees at Washington this afternoon, |

|but that was enough. Joe Gedeon made the hit, a |

|three bagger, and Milan passed him home when he |

|dropped Nunamacher's high fly to center. |

|A tie score was the best the Maroons could do for |

|the Hoosiers Saturday on Marshall Field. The count |

|was 7-7 when Umpire Hanson called the game in the |

|eleventh inning on account of darkness. |

=233. Names of the Teams.=--Almost as frequent is the featuring of the

names of the opposing teams, with the final score included at the end of

the lead.

|Cornell's 1915 football team wrote its name in |

|football history in blazing letters on Franklin |

|Field this afternoon when at the end of one of the |

|most stirring contests ever seen on that gridiron |

|the scoreboard read: Cornell, 24; Pennsylvania, 9. |

=234. Cause of Victory or Defeat.=--The cause of a team's victory or

defeat often makes an effective feature for the lead.

|With the aid of a bewildering assortment of plays, |

|the Syracuse University football team defeated the |

|Oregon Agricultural College here to-day, 28 to 0. |

|Inability to hit, coupled with poor fielding at |

|critical moments, caused the defeat of the New York |

|University nine by the Stevens Institute of |

|Technology yesterday on Ohio Field. The score was 5 |

|to 3. |

=235. Individual Players.=--Stellar work by individual players--even

poor work when responsible for the loss of the game--often makes

necessary the featuring of their names.

|Jim Thorpe and George Kelly led an assault on the |

|Dallas pitchers this afternoon while Pol Perritt and|

|Fred Schupp were baffling the local talent at home |

|plate. The net result was a shutout for Dallas and |

|five runs for New York. |

|Wildness on the part of Foster and timely hitting by|

|Oldring and Strunk enabled Philadelphia to defeat |

|Boston again to-day, the score being 6 to 2. |

=236. Other Features.=--Even the kind of weather, the condition of the

grounds, the size of the crowd, or the effect of the play on the crowd

may be featured:

_The Weather_

|High winds and bad light made the marksmanship poor |

|at the local shoot yesterday, the best score being a|

|93, made by Lawrence Bowen. |

_Condition of Grounds_

|The annual football game between Lawrence and Beloit|

|yesterday, resulting in a 14 to 6 victory for |

|Lawrence, might better have been called an aquatic |

|meet. The best swimmers won. |

_Size of the Crowd_

|Fifty-nine thousand football fans saw the warriors |

|of Old Eli take the Tiger's pelt yesterday at New |

|Haven. The count was 13 to 7. |

_Effect on the Crowd_

|A disgusted crowd of 8,000 Sunday baseball fans saw |

|the Brewers lose to the Colonels yesterday, 2 to 14.|

It will be noted in these leads that the final score, while not always

featured, is nevertheless always included.

=237. The Body.=--The bodies of stories reporting athletic contests are

all but unlimited in their methods of handling, depending on the nature

of the sport and the length of the story. If the sporting editor has

limited the reporter to two sticks, the body may contain the lineup, the

names of the officials, mention of those starring or playing

particularly poorly, when and how the scoring was made, the condition of

the field and the weather, and the size of the crowd. If the editor

wants a fuller report, the more important plays, told chronologically,

may be added. If he wishes a detailed account, all the plays should be

given, the reporter following the chronological order after a full,

summarizing lead. In big athletic events, the sporting editor often

assigns two men, one to write a general account, the other a detailed

story. In such stories it is the reporter writing the general summary

who compiles the summarizing figures boxed at the beginning, giving the

total attendance and receipts and making comparison with preceding

events. A typical baseball story is the following:

| =YANKS BEAT THE SENATORS= |

| |

|Through some change of policy on the part of the |

|concern which is conducting the weather this spring,|

|the sun, which has not been at large much in recent |

|days, was permitted to shine on the Polo Grounds |

|yesterday. The Yankees reveled in the sunlight and |

|chalked up their first victory of the season, |

|beating Washington by a score of 3 to 1. A crowd of |

|more than 20,000 people left their umbrellas and |

|raincoats at home and sat in at the Yankee jubilee. |

| |

|Charley Mullen, one of the Yanks' utility men, was |

|rushed into the fray in the sixth inning as a pinch |

|hitter for Wallie Pipp. Two runners were riding the |

|bases at the time, and when Mullen flayed a single |

|to left he also propelled Baker and Gedeon over the |

|plate with the two units which marked the margin of |

|the New York victory. The Yankees played just the |

|kind of baseball everybody hoped they would and that|

|was just a bit better than the best Washington had |

|to offer. |

| |

|A lot of people from the Edison Company who know |

|First Baseman Judge of the Washington club well |

|enough to call him Joe, presented him with a diamond|

|ring. Judge used to play with the Edison team before|

|he took to the merry life of a professional. Judge |

|shattered baseball tradition after modestly taking |

|the gift by going in and playing a fine game, |

|fielding well and knocking out a clean hit. Most |

|players after receiving a present at a ball game can|

|be counted on to strike out. |

| |

|Among the more or less prominent people present was |

|the man for whom Diogenes, a former resident of |

|Greece, has long been looking. There was no doubt |

|about his being the object of the quest of Diogenes |

|because when a ball was fouled into the grand stand |

|and he caught it, he threw it back into the field |

|instead of hiding it in his pocket. |

| |

|Ray Fisher, who gave up his life unselfishly to |

|teaching school up in Vermont until he found how |

|much money there was in tossing a curved ball, did |

|the twirling for the Yankees and on the few |

|occasions when he was in trouble his teammates came |

|to his support like a rich uncle. In the fourth |

|inning it looked as if Fisher was about to take the |

|elevator for the thirty-sixth floor, but Frank Baker|

|came to his aid and yanked him out of trouble. |

| |

|It was this way: Judge, first man up in the fourth, |

|singled to center. Shanks was hit on the wrist and |

|Jamieson laid a bunt half an inch from the third |

|base line, filling the bases. Henry spun a teaser |

|right in front of the plate and Nunamacher made a |

|quick play by grabbing the ball and forcing Judge |

|out as he was about to score. The base line circuit |

|was still playing to S. R. O. McBride rapped a |

|hopper down back of third base. Baker reached out |

|his bare hand, nabbed the ball, touched third and |

|forced Jamieson. He relayed the ball over to first |

|in time to double up McBride, and Fisher was saved |

|from a serious attack of heart failure. That was |

|only one of three double plays the Yankees staged |

|for Fisher's welfare. |

| |

|Harry Harper, a southpaw from Hackensack, N. J., |

|pitched for Washington until the Yankees went to the|

|front in the sixth, and then he was succeeded by |

|Francesco Gallia, who hails from Mexico or |

|thereabouts. |

| |

|The Yankees threatened damage in the first inning. |

|After Maisel had fanned, Gilhooley was safe on |

|Morgan's fumble and Magee sent him to second with a |

|single. Baker lifted a high fly to right field, and |

|after the catch Gilhooley raced to third and was |

|safe by half an inch. Gedeon fouled to first for the|

|third out. |

| |

|The Senators got their run in the second. With one |

|down, Jamieson was safe on Baker's high throw over |

|first, the runner traveling to second. Henry died at|

|first, and McBride punched a two-bagger to right |

|center, which sent Jamieson home. The Yankees tied |

|the score in the next inning, when, with two out, |

|Magee walked. Baker and Gedeon started a double |

|steal. It looked as if Gedeon would be a sure out at|

|second, but he got back to first safely. Pipp ended |

|the fun by fanning. |

| |

|In the sixth Baker singled to left, and Gedeon |

|placed a Texas leaguer back of first, which none of |

|the Senator fielders reached. Baker was late in |

|starting for second, and Jamieson made a bad throw |

|to catch him, so both runners advanced a cushion. |

|Mullen, batting for Pipp, cudgeled the ball to left,|

|and Baker and Gedeon counted. That was all, and it |

|was plenty to win. The score: |

| |

| NEW YORK WASHINGTON |

| AB R H PO A | AB R H PO A|

|Maisel, cf. 3 0 0 4 0 | Morg'n, 2b. 3 0 0 3 2|

|Gil'hy, rf. 4 0 0 1 0 | Fost'r, 3b. 4 0 2 0 1|

|Magee, lf. 3 1 2 2 0 | Milan, cf. 4 0 0 2 0|

|Baker, 3b. 3 1 1 2 3 | Judge, 1b. 4 0 1 8 0|

|Ged'n, 2b. 4 1 3 5 3 | Sh'nks, lf. 3 0 0 1 0|

|Pipp, 1b. 2 0 0 8 0 | Jam's'n rf. 4 1 1 1 0|

|Mul'n, 1b. 2 0 1 3 0 | Henry, c. 2 0 0 5 1|

|P'k'gh, ss. 4 0 0 1 4 | M'B'de, ss. 3 0 1 1 1|

|Nu'ker, c. 2 0 0 1 1 | Harper, p. 2 0 1 0 1|

|Fisher, p. 3 0 0 0 2 | Wil'ms, c. 1 0 0 3 1|

| ----------- | Johnson[26] 1 0 0 0 0|

| | -----------|

| Total 30 3 7 27 13 | Total 31 1 6 24 7|

| |

| [26] Batted for Gallia in ninth inning. |

| Errors--Morgan, Milan, Jamieson, Baker. |

| |

|Washington 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0--1 |

|New York 0 0 1 0 0 2 0 0 0--3 |

| |

|Two-base hits--McBride, Harper, Foster. Stolen |

|base--Gedeon. Double plays--Gedeon and Pipp; Baker |

|and Pipp; Peckinpaugh and Gedeon. Left on bases--New|

|York, 7; Washington, 6. First base on errors--New |

|York, 1; Washington, 1. Bases on balls--Off Fisher, |

|2; off Harper, 3; off Gallia, 1. Hits and earned |

|runs--Off Harper, 6 hits, 3 runs in six innings; off|

|Gallia, 1 hit in two innings. Hit by |

|Pitcher--Fisher, (Shanks). Struck out--By Fisher, 1;|

|by Harper, 4; by Gallia, 2. Umpires--Messrs. Owens |

|and Connolly. Time of game--Two hours and eleven |

|minutes.[27] |

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

Worth noting particularly in this story is the regulation style of

indicating the lineup and the score at the end. The writer's originality

of expression and his happy choice of individual incidents also add

greatly to the interest of the story. The lead, for instance, is

unusually good.

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

| =ARMY DEFEATS NAVY= |

| |

|It was just as the gray cloaked lads from West Point|

|chanted in lugubrious measure before the game: |

| |

| Go-oo-od Night, Nayvee! |

| Go-oo-od Night, Navy! |

| Go-oo-od Night--Na-ay-ve-ee! |

| The Army wins to-day! |

| |

|They put into the chorus all the pathos, all the |

|long-sustained notes, all the tonsorial-parlor |

|chords of which it is capable, and those, as you |

|know, are many. |

| |

|And the Army boys, sitting in a fog which in hue |

|just about matched their capes and caps, called the |

|turn correctly with their vocal prediction. |

| |

|It was "Good Night, Navy!" to the tune of 14 points |

|to 0. |

| |

|The youngsters from the west bank of the Upper |

|Hudson were triumphant in their twentieth annual |

|battle with the midshipmen from Annapolis by two |

|touchdowns and their concomitant goals, one in the |

|first period of play, the other in the third. The |

|count of games now stands ten for the Army, nine for|

|the Navy, and one tie. |

| |

|President Wilson, in a topper that got wet, and with|

|a beaming face that was sprinkled with mist and |

|raindrops, watched the fight and stayed until the |

|final wild whoop from the last departing cadet had |

|sounded through the semi-darkness that fell upon the|

|Polo Grounds along toward 4:30 p.m. |

| |

|Mrs. Edith Bolling Galt, who soon is to be Mrs. |

|Wilson, was present with her winsome smile and her |

|white furs and her lavender orchids--fortunately, |

|you could see her even through the haze--by the |

|President's side. |

| |

|And then there were some forty thousand others, |

|whose ranks in life ranged down from cabinet |

|officers and generals and admirals to ordinary |

|civilians, who dug as deep--some of them--as $20 a |

|seat for the privilege. |

| |

|Yet, do you suppose that President Wilson or any |

|official was the hero of the day? |

| |

|We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else, but NO. |

| |

|Or do you fancy that the former belle of Wytheville,|

|Va., who is within the month to be the First Lady of|

|the Land, was the person toward whom all eyes were |

|directed during most of the afternoon? |

| |

|There were considerable numbers of field glasses |

|focused upon the white furs and the lavender |

|orchids and winsome smile. But again the reply |

|is emphatically NO. |

| |

|The leading character, the person who ought to |

|figure away up in the top of the headlines, the one |

|whose name was spoken more frequently than any |

|other, was a rough, rugged, short, stocky, right |

|half-back named Elmer Oliphant, who, according to |

|Army statistics, is twenty-two years old, stands 5 |

|feet 7 inches in altitude, weighs 163 pounds, and |

|hails from Indiana. |

| |

|Ollie was the boy. Before the first period of the |

|game was more than half over, there was a fumble by |

|a Navy back and an Army man fell upon the ball only |

|eight yards away from the goal line of the |

|midshipmen. |

| |

|There was the crash of an Army back against the Navy|

|line, and just a little weakening. There was another|

|impact of a cadet against a wall that was almost but|

|not quite solid. There remained about two or three |

|yards to go. |

| |

|Ollie was hurled in. He took the ball, sought coolly|

|for the weakest spot he might find in a line that |

|was almost impregnable at the moment, and then, |

|instantly finding what he wanted, twisted his way |

|backward through left tackle and fell across the |

|chalk mark for a touchdown. |

| |

|The way the rest of the Army boys sank their fists |

|into Ollie's broad back when he got up, you'd have |

|thought he'd be in no shape for any other position |

|than lying flat upon a stretcher. But he came calmly|

|away from the tumult of congratulation, and as soon |

|as he could kick the mud from between his |

|shoe-cleats he booted the ball over the cross-bar |

|for a goal. |

| |

|Throughout the rest of that period, and throughout |

|all the next, we may skip Ollie. All he did was run |

|around ends for distances varying from five to |

|twenty yards, and plunge through the Annapolis line |

|with from two to four men attached to his neck, |

|arms, legs and back, and tear up, despite these |

|handicaps, more earth than one of those tractor |

|ploughs the Flivver Man is going to put on the |

|market after he settles the European war. |

| |

|Jump to the third session of the game. This was |

|scarcely under way before a long forward pass from |

|the Navy was grabbed on the Annapolis 45-yard line |

|by McEwen, the agile West Point center. He ran it |

|back twenty-five yards and when the ball finally |

|came to rest on the muddy field with half a dozen |

|Middies piled atop of Mac, it reposed just back of |

|the Navy goal-line. |

| |

|Gray dominated throughout the day, physically as |

|well as sentimentally. If ever there was a sodden, |

|cheerless, disheartening afternoon for the battle of|

|the two arms of the service, yesterday was the one. |

| |

|Luck is with the boys, usually. The golden sunshine |

|usually glints off the gold of braid and buttons. |

|The nicest looking girls that ever assembled within |

|the confines of any particular area of space turn |

|out and smile and put lofty notes into the |

|atmosphere with their giddy gowns and hats. There's |

|snap and verve and pepperino in the very air. |

| |

|But for the first time in a long while the weather |

|forbade all this sort of thing yesterday. From early|

|morning a fog-blanket, wafted in from the Atlantic, |

|hung over the town. Now and then it rained. And when|

|you thought maybe it would clear off it rained |

|again. The good old golosh was brought out of the |

|spare bedroom closet and placed upon even the |

|fairest of feet. The old brown raincoat was dragged |

|forth into the light of day and placed above the |

|gayest of garments. |

| |

|No girl was so foolish as to take a chance on the |

|ruin of her apparel by doing without a moisture |

|shedder of some sort. And not a general or admiral |

|or member of a governor's staff or other person |

|holding the right to wear a uniform was so |

|intensely proud as to expose his ornamentation |

|uncovered and take a risk at pneumonia. |

| |

|It was, as a matter of fact, a pretty drab-looking |

|crowd that began to file into the Polo grounds a |

|little after noon. You can't get much local color |

|out of a gum shoe and a mackintosh.... |

| |

| =The Game Play by Play= |

| |

|It was 2.15 when the navy squad ploughed through the|

|mud to the center of the gridiron. The Navy stands |

|upheaved and the midshipmen sent their battle cry |

|ringing across the field. Almost on the heels of the|

|Navy squad came the Army players and a great shout |

|went up from the Army stands. Each team ran through |

|signals for a few minutes and then the Navy won the |

|toss and chose the east goal. |

| |

|Coffin put the ball into play at 2:20 when he kicked|

|off to the Navy. Craig caught the ball on his |

|25-yard line and ran it back ten yards before he was|

|hurled into the mud. Davis tore off seven yards |

|through the right side of the Army line and Westphal|

|skirted the Army's left end for ten yards and a |

|first down. |

| |

|Here the Army forwards held and crushed the Navy |

|back a yard. On the next down the midshipmen punted,|

|but gained only five yards. Oliphant tried an end |

|run from a kick formation, but failed to gain, and |

|the Army punted, Coffin driving the ball to the |

|Navy's 43-yard line. |

| |

|Westphal fought a path for five yards, but then the |

|Army defense held, and Von Heimberg kicked to |

|Gerhardt on the Army's 10-yard line. The cadet |

|quarterback flashed back thirty yards before he was |

|driven out of bounds and brought to earth. A stab at|

|the line failed to gain for the cadets and Coffin |

|punted to Craig. |

| |

|The ball sailed far down the field and the Navy |

|quarterback had to run back a few yards to get under|

|it. But he did not get back quite far enough. As the|

|ball dropped he saw he had misjudged it and threw |

|his arms up to grasp the pigskin. His fingers |

|clutched at it, slipped off, and the ball dropped to|

|the gridiron as the Army forwards swooped down the |

|field. |

| |

|Capt. Weyand was in the lead and his greedy fingers |

|snatched the ball before Craig could get his |

|bearings. It was the Army's ball and only eight |

|yards from a touchdown. The midshipmen chorused to |

|the Navy line to hold. And the line did its best, |

|but its best was not good enough to throw back the |

|Army's battering attack. Oliphant jammed his way two|

|yards and on the next play drove through the |

|desperately fighting Navy line within a few feet of |

|the goal line. |

| |

|Here the Navy showed a flash of power that sent the |

|midshipmen to frenzied shouting. Oliphant on his |

|third smash into the line was hurled back for a yard|

|loss. The next try made the fourth down and with the|

|cadet band blaring and the cadets shouting |

|themselves hoarse Oliphant made his fourth drive |

|against the Navy forwards. |

| |

|It was a lunge that carried the concentrated power |

|of the Army eleven yards behind it and it spelled a |

|touchdown for the cadets. Oliphant with several Navy|

|players clutching him stormed well over the line for|

|the first score of the game. He promptly kicked the |

|goal from touchdown and the scoreboard read: Army 7,|

|Navy 0. |

| |

|This was the signal for the Army to break into the |

|song, "Good Night, Navy." They were still singing |

|when Coffin kicked off for the Army....[28] |

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

November 28, 1915.

This story may be examined critically--and imitated--for its excellence

in centering the reader's interest upon the football hero, Oliphant,--a

stroke which gives the article almost a short story unity of impression.

The writer's shift from the game and the crowd to Oliphant is somewhat

rough--note, for instance, "We are as loyal a Democrat as anybody else,

but NO,"--but otherwise the story is good.

=239. Getting Players' Names.=--When reporting a football game, one can

best follow and take notes on the plays by knowing the players by

number. In big games this is made easy by the numerals on the football

men's backs. On the smaller elevens this is not done, a difficulty which

the reporter can overcome, however, by numbering the positions

according to the regulation lineup. Thus:

5.LE RE.11

2.LHB 6.LT RT.10 RHB.3

7.LG RG. 9

1.FB 4.QB 8. C C. 8 QB.4 FB.1

9.RG LG. 7

3.RHB 10.RT LT. 6 LHB.2

11.RE LE. 5

Then in taking running notes during the game, one has to write only, "4

around 5 10 yds.," "2 through 7-8 to 20-yd. line," etc., filling in the

names of the players after each half.

=240. Basket-ball.=--The accepted method of reporting a basket-ball game

is much like that of football. Because in basket-ball the scores run

high and the relative standings of the opposing teams are constantly

shifting, it is customary in detailed accounts to give the exact score

of each team at the end of every quarter. The following is a terse story

of a game:

| =BOYS' HIGH WINS CITY TITLE= |

| |

|The Boys' High School captured the city basketball |

|championship of the Public Schools Athletic League |

|by defeating the Bushwick High School on the |

|former's court yesterday by a score of 18 to 17. It |

|was the second defeat sustained by Bushwick, the |

|other reverse being administered by Eastern |

|District, which, however, was downed by Boys' High. |

|The ending was a sad one for the Bushwick team. |

| |

|The Bushwick team showed good sportsmanship by |

|failing to enter a protest when it was alleged that |

|the final whistle was blown ten seconds too soon. |

|The matter was put before Mr. Aldinger, the referee,|

|who decided the game officially ended. |

| |

|Boys' High came through with a strong finish. At the|

|opening of the game it scored four points before |

|Bushwick finally entered the scoring column. The |

|game was bitterly fought until the end of the first |

|half, which found Boys' High holding an average of 6|

|to 4. |

| |

|In the second half Bushwick launched an attack that |

|soon placed it in front by a score of 15 to 9. Boys'|

|High then carried the fight into the enemy |

|territory, and, with successive field goals by |

|Bolotovsky, Gindee and Bonoff, the score was tied at|

|15-all. |

| |

|The score then seesawed until Bolotovsky shot the |

|winning point with a free goal from the foul line. |

| |

|The line-up follows: |

| |

| BOYS' HIGH BUSHWICK |

| Fd.g Fl.g. P. | Fd.g Fl.g. P.|

|Bolotovsky, rf 4 4 12 | Robinson, rf 2 0 4|

|Gindee, lf 1 0 2 | Edelstein, lf 2 3 7|

|Bonoff, c 2 0 4 | Cherry, c 3 0 6|

|Brown, rg 0 0 0 | Dorff, rg 0 0 0|

|Ratner, lg 0 0 0 | Billig, lg 0 0 0|

| ---------- | ----------|

| Totals 7 4 18 | Totals 7 3 17|

| |

|Referee--Aldinger, H. S. of Commerce. Time of |

|halves, 15 minutes each.[29] |

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

In reporting a basket-ball game it is difficult to record the plays

accurately unless one knows the contestants or they are numbered. The

men shift their positions too quickly and constantly. To be accurate,

the reporter should have a seat next to the scorer or else between two

students or friends of the opposing players, so that whichever side

makes a basket or an error, the reporter can get the player's name

instantly.

=241. Track.=--Reporting a track meet is easier than baseball, football,

or basket-ball since the events are run off slowly and all the results

are announced to the grandstand. The following story of the 1917 meet of

the Intercollegiate Association of America at Philadelphia is a good

illustration:

| =RECORDS MADE AT INDOOR MEET= |

| |

|Cornell and Yale, as usual, shared the top honors at|

|the third annual indoor track and field meet of the |

|Intercollegiate Association of America, held last |

|night before a crowd of 6,000 persons at the |

|Commercial Museum in this city. The feature event of|

|the early part of the program was a three-lap relay |

|race between the Ithacans, Pennsylvania and State |

|College. Crim, who ran anchor for Cornell over the |

|last 538 yards, beat Scudder, of Penn, by an inch, |

|the Quaker falling under the tape exhausted. In this|

|event Cornell hung up a new record for the |

|collegiate indoor meets by covering the three laps |

|in four minutes, twenty seconds, two seconds better |

|than last year, when Penn won. |

| |

|In the six-lap relay race, where each of the men ran|

|1056 yards, Yale romped home an easy winner, John |

|Overton beating Marion Shields, of Penn State, with |

|yards to spare. Pennsylvania, the third team |

|entered, finished in that position. |

| |

|Yale sent an army of star timber-toppers down for |

|the fifty-yard high hurdle event. John V. Farwell, |

|captain of the Eli's track team, equaled the |

|American amateur indoor record by covering the |

|distance in seven seconds. |

| |

|Richards, of Cornell, won individual honors in the |

|sixteen-pound shot-put with a throw of 42 feet, |

|8-3/10 inches, while Cornell's team average was 40 |

|feet, 2-3/10 inches. |

| |

|The Cornell entries in the late events swept |

|everything before them. Coach Jack Moakley's |

|long-distance runners won the twelve-lap relay in |

|the fast time of 22 minutes, 7-2/5 seconds, beating |

|last year's record of 23 minutes, 13-4/5 seconds. |

|The Ithacans also cleaned up in the running broad |

|jump with a team average of 20 feet, 9 and 1/16 |

|inches. Culbertson carried off the individual honors|

|with a leap of 21 feet, 3 and 3/4 inches. |

| |

|The graduate relay race proved the most interesting |

|event on the card. When the anchor men of Penn, |

|Dartmouth, and Cornell started on the last four laps|

|Riley, of Dartmouth, was leading "Ted" Meredith by |

|fifteen yards, with Caldwell, the former Ithacan, |

|trailing five yards in the rear of Meredith. Penn's |

|former captain brought the crowd to its feet by |

|overtaking Riley in the last ten yards. No time was |

|taken. Summaries: |

| |

|Three-lap relay race--Won by Cornell (Shelton, |

|Windnagle, Acheson, Crim); second, Penn (Lennon, |

|Walker, Dorsey, Scudder); third, Penn State |

|(Whiting, Krall, Enoch, Cottom). Time, 4 min., 20 |

|sec. (New indoor collegiate record). |

| |

|50-yard hurdles--Won by Yale (Rodman, Davis, Offutt |

|and Farwell), 14 points; second, Cornell (J. M. |

|Watt, Cleminshaw, Pratt and Elsas), 10 points; |

|third, Princeton (Crawford, H. R. Watt, Erdman, and |

|Buzby), 6 points. |

| |

|Six-lap relay--Won by Yale (Rolfe, Ireland, Cooper |

|and Overton); second, Penn State (Shea, Foster, |

|Whiting and Shields); third, Pennsylvania (Norriss, |

|Price, Scudder and Humphreys). Time, 9 min., 59-4/5 |

|sec. |

| |

|16-pound shot-put--Won by Cornell (Richards, 42 ft. |

|8-3/10 in.; Gillies, 39 ft. 11-1/2 in.; Howell, 41 |

|ft. 5 in.; Schoof, 36 ft. 10-7/8 in.), team average,|

|40 ft. 2-3/10 in.; second, Princeton (Sinclaire, 44 |

|ft. 9-1/2 in.; Cleveland 41 ft. 1-3/8 in.; Nourse, |

|34 ft. 8 in.; Ginnert 35 ft. 1-1/4 in.), team |

|average, 38 ft. 6-8/10 in.; third, Penn (Wray, 30 |

|ft. 10-1/4 in.; Paul, 32 ft. 3-3/4 in.; Royer, |

|31 ft. 5-5/8 in.; Swann, 32 ft. 2-3/4 in.), team |

|average, 31 ft. 6-5/10 in. |

| |

|Running broad jump--Won by Cornell (Culbertson, 21 |

|ft. 3-3/4 in.; Richards, 21 ft. 1/2 in.; Shackelton,|

|20 ft. 10-1/2 in.; Harrison, 19 ft. 9-1/2 in.), team|

|average, 20 ft. 9-1/16 in.; second, Pennsylvania |

|(Jones, 20 ft. 10-3/4 in.; Bertolet, 20 ft. 7 in.; |

|Buckholtz, 20 ft. 1/2 in.; Walter 19 ft. 9 in.), |

|team average, 20 ft. 3-13/16 in. No third team.[30] |

[30] _Philadelphia Public Ledger_,

March 4, 1917.

=242. Golf.=--In reporting golf matches probably the best method is to

lead with rather a full summary--a half-dozen paragraphs if

necessary--telling the results, the character of the playing, the kind

of weather, the condition of the links, and something about the

competitors, then to follow with a detailed story of the game hole by

hole. In the following story note that the length, the par, and the

relative standing of the players is given on each hole. Note too that a

numerical summary is made every nine holes.

| =EVANS WINS GREAT MATCH= |

| |

|Charles Evans, Jr., of the Edgewater Golf Club, |

|twice winner of the Western amateur golf |

|championship, to-day defeated Ned Sawyer of the |

|Wheaton Golf Club 2 and 1 in the semi-final match |

|for the great All-Western title. To-morrow Evans |

|will meet in the 36-hole finals James Standish, Jr.,|

|of the Detroit Golf Club, whom he defeated for the |

|same title last year at the Kent Country Club. |

| |

|Standish won his way into the finals by defeating |

|H. P. Bingham, of the Mayfield Club, to-day in a |

|lop-sided contest, the match ending on the thirtieth|

|green, 7 and 6. |

| |

|The Evans-Sawyer duel to-day was a grueling struggle|

|and from all points one of the greatest in the |

|history of the Western classic. It sparkled like |

|carbonated water as compared with the rather flat |

|matches of yesterday. |

| |

|Fought in balmy weather under almost perfect |

|conditions, the contest afforded, from start to |

|finish, plenty of thrills to the gallery of 2,000 |

|followers. Old timers conceded it the best match |

|ever fought on Ohio soil. Each player had 74 in the |

|morning, while Evans had approximately 72 in the |

|afternoon. |

| |

|Fourteen of the thirty-five holes were won under par|

|figures, ten were won at par, and two were ties |

|under par, leaving only two holes at which both |

|players were really ragged. |

| |

|Sawyer shot remarkably fine golf in the out round of|

|the morning and at the tenth hole was 4 up, but from|

|this point Evans began to whittle down the lead. |

|Although Chick got on even terms four times, it was |

|not until the sixteenth hole in the afternoon that |

|he led, and the next hole saw him winner. |

| |

|The score by holes follows: |

| |

| =Scores by Holes= |

| |

|=Hole 1 (385 yds., par 4).= Sawyer pulled his drive |

|into a trap from which he dug only to drop into |

|another at the left of the green. His chip shot hit |

|the bank and he was just on the green in 4. Evans |

|was 60 feet from the pin on his second, but his weak|

|approach putt gave him a 5. Sawyer took three putts |

|and counted a 7 for the first hole. Evans 1 up. |

| |

|=Hole 2 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans pulled his tee |

|shot, but got a fair lie. His approach pitch was |

|short. Sawyer got 250 yards on his drive, pitched |

|eight feet short, and holed an uphill putt for a |

|win, 3-4. All square. |

| |

|=Hole 3 (445 yds., par 5).= Two wonderful wooden |

|shots landed Sawyer eight feet from the pin, where |

|he missed his putt for a 3 and kicked the ball in |

|for a 4, one under par. Evans pulled his drive to |

|the rough from which he made a woeful pull with his |

|cleek to the weeds guarding the right of the |

|fairway. He was 20 yards short of the green on his |

|third and lost, 5-4. Sawyer 1 up. |

| |

|=Hole 4 (170 yds., par 3).= This hole was halved in |

|3, the features being Sawyer's 30-foot, downhill |

|putt and Chick's miss of a two-foot putt. Sawyer 1 |

|up. |

| |

|=Hole 5 (325 yds., par 4).= Evans was wild again |

|from the tee, his drive being sliced to the brook |

|where he got a lie on the slaty bottom. He banged |

|out a high shot with his niblick, but went over the |

|green to the rough and was short on his return. |

|Sawyer was fifteen feet from the hole on his second |

|and won, 4-5. Sawyer 2 up. |

| |

|=Hole 6 (515 yds., par 5).= From the high sixth tee |

|Evans pulled a low drive to the trees. He made a |

|great out with his mashie, being lucky in escaping |

|the trees. Sawyer lined out two of his regulation |

|wooden shots and was twelve feet from the flag on |

|his second. Evans heeled his long mashie shot to the|

|right of the green, from which he missed his four |

|and conceded the hole, Sawyer being dead in 3. |

|Sawyer 3 up. |

| |

|=Hole 7 (310 yds., par 4).= Evans left his unruly |

|driver in the bag and played a cleek shot for the |

|seventh hole, Sawyer outdriving him forty yards. |

|Chick's pitch took a bad bound, but stopped eight |

|feet from the hole. Sawyer's pitch ran entirely |

|across the green. Evans's putt just trickled into |

|the cup, winning for him, 3-4. Sawyer 2 up. |

| |

|=Hole 8 (145 yds., par 3).= Both pitched to the |

|green. Sawyer putted dead and laid Evans a dead |

|stymie. In attempting the five-foot slanting putt, |

|Chick knocked Sawyer's ball into the hole, losing |

|2-4. Sawyer 3 up. |

| |

|=Hole 9 (435 yds., par 5).= Both got straight drives|

|into a driving wind at the long ninth. Two perfectly|

|played iron shots met with unmerited punishment, |

|both balls touching the top of the hill and running |

|over the fast green into a trap. Both missed rainbow|

|putts for fours and halved in 5. Sawyer 3 up at the |

|turn. |

| |

|Cards: |

|Evans 5 4 5 3 5 5 3 4 5--39 |

|Sawyer 7 3 4 3 4 4 4 2 5--36 |

=243. Tennis.=--In reporting tennis matches one may use the following as

an acceptable guide. The summary by sets at the end of the story in all

probability was obtained from the scorer.

| =JOHNSTON WINS CHAMPIONSHIP= |

| |

|William M. Johnston inscribed his name upon the |

|classic national tennis singles championship most |

|impressively yesterday, using a forehand stroke that|

|left no dispute as to his right to the title. The |

|young player, who two seasons ago was hailed as the |

|successor to Maurice E. McLoughlin, made good the |

|prediction by the score of 1-6, 6-0, 7-5, 10-8, |

|while thousands cheered the vanquished McLoughlin |

|and the new holder of the highest honors of the |

|American courts. It was a memorable battle and an |

|inspiring scene at the climax on the field of the |

|West Side Tennis Club, at Forest Hills, L.I., when |

|the two men fighting for a sporting honor, and |

|fighting with all that was in them, almost collapsed|

|at the end, and hoisted on the shoulders of their |

|comrades, with the cheers of the 7,000 spectators |

|ringing in their ears, were carried from the field. |

| |

|While the homage paid to Johnston for winning one of|

|the greatest matches the All Comers' tournament has |

|ever known in its thirty-five years was sincere and |

|true, still on all sides there was regret that |

|McLoughlin, the hero who overwhelmed Norman E. |

|Brooks and the late Anthony F. Wilding in the great |

|Davis Cup matches last year, would not have the |

|permanent possession of the All Comers' Cup on which|

|his name is twice inscribed. |

| |

|It was not the same McLoughlin who stood in the |

|court yesterday that overwhelmed the famous |

|Australasians a year ago. Time had taken something |

|from his game, and as ever youth must be served. In |

|this instance it fairly leaped to its reward. Except|

|for the first set and the briefest of intervals |

|thereafter, Johnston was always the master of his |

|mighty adversary. He knew the game of his opponent, |

|and as in the ancient days when Greek met Greek, it |

|was the dynamic power, resourcefulness, and stroke |

|of Californian against Californian, with no quarter |

|asked or given. Two months before the two had played|

|for the Exposition championship at San Francisco, |

|and at that time McLoughlin had carried the match |

|and title after five of the hardest sets which the |

|tournament produced. Then "The Comet" was on his old|

|field of asphalt with the ball bounding so high that|

|he could bring off his overhanders and where such a |

|thing as ground strokes were unknown. |

| |

|Probably never in all the years of the historic All |

|Comers has a player displayed such phenomenal |

|command of the ball with a forehand stroke. There |

|were many competent judges present yesterday who |

|declared that its equal was not to be found on the |

|courts anywhere.... |

| |

|It was a stroke that stood the test, for no less |

|than eight times in the fourth set was Johnston |

|within a point of claiming the All Comers as his own|

|when McLoughlin made thrilling stands as of old, and|

|pushed the victory on a little further. When he |

|moved up to the net in the ever-flashing rallies all|

|the power and certainty of Johnston's forehand came |

|into action. Alert, with the eye of an eagle that |

|saw every move and the flight of the ball as |

|McLoughlin drove it at him with all his might, the |

|younger player whipped the returns into the corners.|

|He was like a cat on his feet, quick and sure, never|

|making a false move. There were times when he |

|nipped the best drives that the Comet sent over, and|

|turned them back for passes. Repeatedly McLoughlin |

|overhanded the ball for what to him seemed a certain|

|ace, so that he relaxed and dropped his racquet to |

|rest, as if the point were finished. Johnston made |

|his recovery, however, and sending the ball back |

|found McLoughlin off his guard and so scored the |

|point. |

| |

|The cross volleys into the corners, the spots that |

|had proved so profitable against Williams on the |

|previous day, were the chief bit of manoeuvring |

|that electrified the crowd. As Johnston played it, |

|it was as irresistible as trying to check the march |

|of time. He sent the ball into the left-hand corner |

|of McLoughlin's court like a bolt of chain |

|lightning. In order to play the ball with any |

|success McLoughlin usually danced around it for a |

|forehand shot, which put him wide of the court. |

|Calmly stepping in to meet it, Johnston crossed with|

|ever-increasing pace into the opposite corner. It |

|was run, run, run for McLoughlin if he wanted the |

|ball. He was on the defensive, and it was a |

|position, as in all of his matches, in which he does|

|not scintillate. So relentlessly was the younger |

|player forcing the former champion and veteran that,|

|even when he had glowing opportunities to make the |

|point, McLoughlin put his racquet to the ball too |

|soon, and so piled up a total of 42 nets and 38 |

|outs, as compared to 37 nets and 26 outs for his |

|rival. That was chiefly where the difference stood, |

|for on actual earned points by placement Johnston |

|only had a tally of 53 to 51 for the Comet.... |

| |

| =First Set= |

| Points Games |

|Johnston 2 0 3 0 5 4 2--16 1 |

|McLoughlin 4 4 5 4 3 6 4--30 6 |

| |

| Double |

| Aces Places Nets Outs Faults |

|Johnston 6 8 11 12 6 |

|McLoughlin 9 10 9 7 1 |

| |

| =Second Set= |

| Points Games |

|Johnston 4 4 5 4 6 4--27 6 |

|McLoughlin 2 2 3 0 4 0--11 0 |

| |

| Double |

| Aces Places Nets Outs Faults |

|Johnston 3 8 3 4 0 |

|McLoughlin[31] 3 2 5 6 1 |

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

=244. Boxing Matches.=--News stories of boxing matches are but a

combination of the methods of writing football games and golf matches.

The first part of the story of a boxing contest should be a full general

account of the fight, the fighters, the character of the boxing, the

weight, height, and reach of the pugilists, their methods of attack and

defense, the crowd, total and individual receipts, the exact time of the

beginning and end of the fight, etc. The second part, like the golf

report, should be a detailed running story of the fight by rounds. The

following story of the Willard-Moran match at New York in 1915 may be

examined as an example:

| =WILLARD WINS ON POINTS= |

| |

|Jess Willard, the heavyweight champion pugilist of |

|the world, hammered and pounded Frank Moran of |

|Pittsburgh for ten rounds in crowded Madison Square |

|Garden last night, but with his advantage of fifty |

|pounds in weight, six inches in height, and six |

|inches in reach, the Herculean Kansan could not |

|knock out the courageous Pittsburgh boxer. |

| |

|Willard had every advantage throughout the bout |

|except one flash in the seventh round, when Moran, |

|with teeth set and the fire of anger in his eye, |

|made a wonderful rally and showered Willard's jaw |

|with hard blows just before the bell sounded. |

| |

|The champion hit Moran hard enough and often enough |

|to knock out half a dozen men, and after the bout he|

|said that the only reason he was forced to let up |

|and not use his famous righthand punch was because |

|he broke his right hand in the second round and was |

|afraid to hit hard after that. It was in whipping a |

|vicious uppercut for the chin that Willard smashed |

|the hand against Moran's elbow. At the time, Moran |

|was groggy, and although the seconds in the |

|champion's corner yelled for him to tear in, Willard|

|had to stand back. |

| |

|When the champion's glove was removed after the |

|bout, the hand was badly swollen, and he was rushed |

|away from the Garden to be attended by a surgeon. |

| |

|The crowd that witnessed the bout was the largest |

|ever seen at a glove contest here. The Garden from |

|the floor to the upper gallery was jammed until |

|there was hardly room to stand. Although women |

|spectators were encouraged to see the bout, few |

|responded, not more than 200 being seen in the arena|

|boxes. Well-known men in all walks of New York life,|

|however, were grouped about in evening clothes, and |

|gave the boxing match as much tone as a night at the|

|opera. A few of the women spectators wore evening |

|clothes, but the greater part of them were clad in |

|the smart new spring suits which fill all the city's|

|finery shops. |

| |

|Financially the bout was a huge success and a |

|tribute to the enterprise of the Western promoter, |

|Tex Rickard. The receipts amounted to $150,000. Of |

|this Willard got $52,600, including $5,100 for his |

|share of the motion pictures. Moran got $23,500 for |

|his share. It was an enormous remuneration for both |

|men for their forty minutes in the ring. |

| |

|This first appearance of the new champion in the |

|ring since his defeat of Johnson in Havana a year |

|ago had set the town talking, and prominent men in |

|New York and other cities did not hesitate to pay |

|$25 a seat to see the bout. As Willard was such an |

|over-ruling favorite the betting was perhaps the |

|lightest ever known in a bout in which a champion |

|has taken part.... |

| |

|It was 9:40 o'clock when Willard hopped into the |

|ring and got a big cheer. He was soon followed by |

|Moran, who had even a greater reception. While the |

|two contestants were waiting nervously in their |

|corners the announcer, Joe Humphries, had the |

|proudest moment of his career when he gathered the |

|great figures of the fistic world into the same |

|ring. Jim Corbett, Bob Fitzsimmons, Kid McCoy, and |

|John L. Sullivan all stood together and shook hands.|

|The reception to John L. must have made the |

|white-haired old man's heart warm, for the old |

|timers in the crowd who remembered when he could |

|beat anything in the ring cheered him until they |

|were hoarse. |

| |

|In the champion's corner were Tom Jones, Walter |

|Monahan, and Jack Hemple. In Moran's corner were |

|Willie Lewis, Bill McKinnon, and Frank Kendall. |

|Willard's weight was a big surprise. When he |

|stripped off his green bathrobe the champion weighed|

|259 pounds, which was ten pounds more than his |

|handlers said he weighed and twenty pounds more than|

|when he defeated Johnson in Cuba. It was just 9:55 |

|when "Old Eagle Eye" Charley White called the men to|

|the center of the ring and said, "Be good, boys, and|

|break when I tell you." ... |

| |

| =THE FIGHT BY ROUNDS= |

| |

| =First Round= |

| |

|The men met in the center of the ring. Willard |

|blocked Moran's left to the head and they clinched. |

|Willard missed a right and left that slid off |

|Moran's shoulder. Willard landed lightly with the |

|left to Moran's face and followed with two more. A |

|left jab was all that Willard used in the first few |

|moments. Then Moran landed a left to Willard's |

|chest, and rushing in close tried to get to his jaw |

|with two blows, but failed. Moran was wary and |

|covered up as he came in on Willard. He also missed |

|a left swing that was wild by several inches. |

|Willard sent a left to Moran's head that jarred the |

|challenger, and he tried to come back with blows to |

|Willard's head, but failed. Moran could not reach |

|the jaw of the champion. Willard missed a right |

|lead, Moran stepping in close and evading the blow. |

|One blow that Willard landed clean, a left to the |

|head, made Moran wary. Moran could not get any blows|

|to Willard's face. |

| |

| =Second Round= |

| |

|Willard met Moran three-quarters of the way over the|

|ring and they clinched. Moran landed a left to |

|Willard's head after they broke and then they milled|

|in the center of the ring, neither doing any |

|particular damage. They were chary of doing work for|

|the next several seconds, Willard waiting to have |

|Moran lead. Willard pushed aside Moran's guard and |

|led with a left to the head which was blocked. |

|Willard forced Moran around the ring and battered |

|him on the head with rights and lefts. The |

|challenger was almost pushed through the ropes. |

|Moran missed a left lead that was blocked by |

|Willard. Moran feinted and made a wild hay-making |

|swing that missed. He then struck one blow to |

|Willard's chest that had little force behind it. |

|Moran led with his left and reached Willard's |

|stomach, but the champion did not mind the blow |

|seriously. Two right swings by Moran pounded on |

|Willard's shoulders and the champion retaliated with|

|a light left jab to the face. Both were perspiring |

|from the intense heat of the big arc lights. Willard|

|seemed to toy with Moran in this round, not exerting|

|himself to take the aggressive....[32] |

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

=245. The Unwholesome in Boxing Matches.=--One caution should be given

in writing about boxing contests,--the need of presenting the wholesome

rather than the unwholesome side. A report of a bout may be written in

such a way as to appeal to the barbaric nature of one's readers, to make

them revel in the mere drawing of blood rather than in the skill, the

dexterity, the generalship of the contestants. The difference is in the

reporter's point of view and depends not so much upon accuracy of

presentation as upon his purpose to choose those wholesome details that

have been successful in retaining pugilism as an American sport despite

its many undoubted accompanying evils. In the following extract, for

instance, the appeal is unhealthful; it savors rather of the Spanish

bull-ring than of a legal sport in the United States:

|What a fight it was! One worthy of Mars himself! The|

|stage setting was complete to the minutest detail. |

|There had been quite enough smashed noses in the |

|preliminaries to whet the appetite for action to its|

|keenest edge. And the main event was put on so |

|quickly after the semi-final that this lust for |

|battle had no chance to cool. Moran led with a |

|snappy left hook that drew blood from Coffey's nose.|

|With this first faint scarlet trickle the gallery |

|gods went wild. A second quick jab gashed an old |

|scar above Jim's left cheekbone and covered his face|

|with blood, to the delight of Frank's friends in the|

|center box. |

=246. Automobile Races.=--Stories of automobile races follow closely the

types of sporting news stories already examined. The following may be

taken as an illustration:

| =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]... |

[33] _Milwaukee Journal_, August 8, 1915.

=247. Billiards.=--In billiard matches the chief thing to note, in

addition to points already mentioned in other sporting news stories, is

the scoring of the individual runs. If it is necessary to write up the

individual innings, the same style is used as indicated in golf and

racing stories.

News writing · 第 4 / 7 章