THE COLLECTION OF NEWS AND THE PREPARATION OF COPY FOR THE READER
The young man just beginning a newspaper career gets a violent shock
almost immediately. He discovers that some one is revising his
articles, changing his words, shortening his sentences, omitting entire
paragraphs. It gives him much anxiety.
All newspaper copy is revised. Very little news or general matter
is printed as written originally. It undergoes “editing” by copy
readers, of whom there are twelve to twenty in the big city offices.
The editorial articles are revised by the editor in chief. Other
copy for the editorial page--letters to the editor, communications,
verse, comments from other newspapers, and the like--is prepared by
his assistants. “Editing” copy means preparing it for the compositor,
putting it in the exact language in which it is to be printed.
Systematic, careful revision of all copy is necessary not alone to
correct error of fact, of judgment, of good taste, but also to regulate
the volume of matter. The notion that newspapers print articles “just
to fill up” is as absurd as the intimation that they “print anything
they can get.” Every newspaper of any account receives, daily, double
to four times as much news matter as can be crowded into its columns.
The news value of each article or paragraph must have quick, alert
consideration. If the reporter has written half a column about an event
that is worth twenty lines only of newspaper space the report must be
reduced to twenty lines. If an unusual rush of news or advertising
compels the order to “cut everything rigidly” it is reduced to ten
lines. Just what to print and what to omit are burning questions and
the quality of judgment exercised in the decision largely measures the
copy reader’s ability.
The men who revise news copy for morning editions get to work at about
six o’clock. For convenience they group around large tables, those
handling telegraph matter at one desk, the readers of city copy at
another, the sporting department workers at a third, while at other
desks are the cable editors, the financial and commercial and the real
estate men. It is of advantage to have as many as possible of these
desks in one room.
How to handle the great volume of matter that pours into the office
gives the managing editor much concern. It must be done with a minimum
of confusion, for confusion surely creates error and disarranges
system. The edition must be put to press on the instant and always the
news pages are closed at the last moment, under great stress, with all
hands in a rush. The work is well systemized, but no system has yet
been invented that can anticipate or provide for the unexpected event
that so frequently upsets newspaper offices.
In normal times the managing editor directs how the articles of
considerable importance are to be treated and likewise the city editor
instructs his men how and to what length they are to write their
articles. The size and the quality of the edition may be planned and
carried to conclusion with comparative comfort if nothing unforeseen
happens. But not infrequently big news breaks out unexpectedly that
upsets all calculations and compels a change of all plans. It is the
unexpected that drives the news editors frantic and adds to their
labors and creates confusion and chaos in spite of everything. Let us
recall the Roosevelt attempted assassination, in illustration.
Things were proceeding peacefully in the newspaper office on that
evening in October, 1912, when, about nine o’clock, a telegraph flash
came from Milwaukee: “Theodore Roosevelt has been shot and killed by a
crazy man.”
Here was the biggest news for many a day. Roosevelt was perhaps the
nation’s most spectacular citizen. He had been our President. He was
known throughout the world. He was running for the presidency as
an independent candidate against Wilson and Taft. He had split the
Republican party. The election was only a few days away. The political
consequences of his death were stupendous.
It is quite impossible to describe what followed in the newspaper work
room. The managing editor began dictating telegraph orders:
To the Milwaukee correspondent he said: “Wire with all haste every
word you can get about Roosevelt’s visit, what he has said and done
since his arrival, every possible detail of the shooting, full
description and history of the assassin, where he has lived, so we can
run him down. Send every word he utters. Hire a dozen men to help. You
can’t wire too much.”
To the Washington correspondent: “Wire 1500 words Roosevelt’s chief
acts as President, 1000 on his personal popularity and social life.
Interview everybody effect of his death on the election, get White
House comment, wire 1000 general effects of the news. You can’t send
too much.”
To the Chicago correspondent: “Hurry to Milwaukee. Take two or three
men with you. Find our man in the _Sentinel_ office. Hire a special
train if necessary. Hire some one to get all he can out of the Chicago
newspaper offices.”
Having wired a dozen or so such telegrams to other parts of the country
the managing editor summoned the city editor and said to him: “Get your
entire staff here, the men who are off to-day and all the emergency
men. Put on three or four more copy readers. Find out where Mrs.
Roosevelt is and have a man stay right by her: also the rest of the
Colonel’s family. Have four or five columns of his obituary prepared.
Have interviews with a lot of prominent New York men and politicians
of both parties. Have a column written on the effect on the political
campaign and also a column of Roosevelt’s reasons for running as an
independent candidate. Send to the hotels and theaters. Don’t forget a
big portrait of Roosevelt--better have pictures of the entire Roosevelt
family and the Oyster Bay home. Keep everybody here until three
o’clock.”
To the night editor he said: “The editorial page is full of campaign
stuff. Have some one go through every line of it and cut out everything
intended to influence a voter against Roosevelt--everything that could
be thought unseemly. You will have to leave out two or three of the
articles and some of the letters to the editor. Find another editorial
or two that will do, on the standing galleys. Get the full force into
the composing room. Tell the stereotype men there will be no end of
editions all night long--they will want full force. Tell the press room
men too; the circulation will be double. Be sure to look out for any
slur on Roosevelt. You must get the mail edition off on time. We can’t
afford to miss a mail to-night.”
The foregoing indicates a part--_and only a small part_--of the
preparations made for an edition announcing Colonel Roosevelt’s death
by assassination. Within fifteen minutes enough matter had been ordered
to fill five or six newspaper pages. The entire news staff jumped into
the work.
The machinery for that edition began to move promptly in the lines
indicated. But in half an hour came this wire from Milwaukee: “Colonel
Roosevelt is not dead but has been shot near the heart. Surgeons are
making examination.” And through some unexplained cause not another
word came from Milwaukee for an hour and a half.
With this second announcement it was necessary to change the plan of
the edition to conform to the situation that the Colonel was not dead
but possibly was mortally wounded. In the hour and a half of suspense
thousands of words came pouring in to the copy readers all written
under belief that the attack had resulted in death and all had to be
edited to fit the new situation.
Then came word that the Colonel had not been seriously hurt--slightly
wounded only--and that he had started for Chicago. It was now nearly
midnight and a complete overhauling of the paper was necessary. A new
set of instructions had to be sent to everybody. Everything had to be
reëdited. What was practically a new edition must be made with very
little time in which to make it. As it was, the newspapers printed from
three to five pages of matter about the attempted assassination, but
they killed many columns relating to the Colonel’s life, the effect
of the supposed death on the campaign, appreciations by public men,
and so forth. The writers and copy readers were reminded that the
Colonel was still a candidate, and that a new issue had been injected
into the campaign, that of martyrdom. “Better minimize the martyrdom
business,” was the suggestion. The copy readers did a tremendous
excess of emergency work that night that went for nothing; so did the
correspondents, the reporters, the printers, the telegraph operators,
the directing editors--everybody who had to do with getting out the
edition.
From reporting to copy reading is a natural step in the progress of
the young man in journalism. Copy reading has the advantage of fixed
hours, of permanent salary, of a minimum of emergency or extra work
and of permitting daily a few hours for recreation or study. It has
the disadvantage of being routine work not especially interesting or
inspiring, without pecuniary reward of importance (salaries are from
forty to sixty-five dollars a week in big newspaper offices and as
low as twenty-five dollars in small ones) and of having the attendant
danger of getting a man in a rut. Every office has its veteran copy
readers who for years have been content to do this work. To perform the
service acceptably requires absorbing attention, unceasing vigil, a
familiarity with current events, accurate judgment as to the news value
of every article and a genius for detecting errors of fact, or grammar,
or of any kind.
Colonel John W. Forney said:
No man is competent to edit newspaper manuscript or reprint
unless he has been an extensive and analytical reader. He
should, moreover, have a quick and keen perception, as well
as a retentive memory of notorious facts, of celebrated names
and important dates. If he is in doubt he should never fail to
consult reliable encyclopedias, technical books, pamphlets and
like granaries of information and knowledge.
How does the copy reader exercise his ability? All news copy goes to
the readers, telegraph copy to the telegraph desk, the city copy to
the city desk and so forth. The head reader glances at each article
long enough to absorb a notion of its nature and make a note of its
length and passes it to one of the other readers. This man edits it
into the form in which it is to appear in the newspaper. If it is too
long he reduces it by stripping it of its verbiage and unimportant
facts, cutting out entire sentences and even paragraphs. Unconsciously
he questions every statement made by the writer, so keen becomes his
search for error. If an article on an important subject is inadequate
he sends it back to the city editor for amplification or explanation.
If the article is unimportant he kills it. Always he has in mind
that the sheet is crowded, that there isn’t room for half of what is
offered. He acquires the knack of condensation, of making one word
express the meaning of half a sentence. He eliminates superfluous
statements and obvious explanations and dull conclusions. If he be
wise he rereads the article to confirm his own work. Always he seeks
to improve the article, to insert a snappy word, to give it life, to
smooth the diction or make it more rugged as befits the subject.
When reading news the copy reader must be alert for clews to additional
information, for side issues to be added. “The assassin has lived in
Canal street, New York” said one of the Milwaukee dispatches--and
instantly the copy reader informed the city editor and a reporter was
soon on his way to Canal street to learn of the crazy man’s record
there. “Mrs. Roosevelt is at the Manhattan Hotel” said another message.
A reporter was sent to her.
The copy reader must steel himself against the reporter who tries to be
funny and isn’t, against those persons so well known in every newspaper
office who seek notoriety by getting their names in print, against the
social climbers, against the men who want puffs and free advertising,
against the wiles of the press agent and the preposterous stories about
the people he is exalting, against the schemers whose success depends
on newspaper publicity, the fake charity organizations, the spurious
reform agitations, the organizations started merely to give salaries
to the people who run them, the multitude of movements created to give
some one notoriety, the constant attempts to fool the public--the list
is endless.
The copy reader must be familiar with the big events attracting public
attention for he may be called to revise their next chapter. Many big
cases drag on for months. Above all he should take sympathetic interest
in every article he revises and in its writer. His every effort should
be to improve the article. My own experience as a copy reader for five
years was of utmost usefulness to me. Careful editing of copy fixes the
subject matter of the copy in memory almost as securely as though you
had written the original.
Surely the copy reader fills an especially important post. It is
poor policy to intrust this work to incompetent men. Nevertheless,
because of its requirements, it is a post not eagerly sought. It is
thought to be a thankless task with little to show for results, with
maximum opportunity for error and minimum for praise. The copy reader
is unlikely to be sought for promotion. He does not mingle with the
outside world as does the reporter. He sees no office visitors as do
the editors. His work attracts little favorable attention. If he
improves a manuscript the author, not the copy reader, gets the credit.
But if you intend to follow the newspaper business, by all means take a
turn at copy reading, for it gives valuable experience and information
and the practice greatly improves your diction.
As the night advances the avalanche of copy increases, some nights
in greater volume than others. It is a curious fact that news volume
seems to ebb and flow like the ocean tide, although irregularly, not
steadily. For days the news world will be calm, little of interest
develops, nothing but routine news offers. And then for days at a time
news breaks out from all directions, overwhelming the writing and the
revising staffs, upsetting all plans and creating confusion. It is then
that the managing editor admonishes: “Gentlemen, the paper is already
filled; you must cut everything rigidly”; and the head copy reader,
pushing a column manuscript article toward an assistant, commands: “Put
it in a quarter of a column”; and the perspiring night editor shouts
from the composing room through the telephone: “Can’t take another
line except must stuff.” “Must stuff” means matter that simply must
be printed. “Stuff” is the common newspaper office vernacular for
all copy, whether it be the profound article of the editor in chief
or the incident of a crap game on the pavement. The amateur writer’s
sensibilities are shocked sometimes when his production is called
“stuff.”
But whether the tide of copy is at ebb or flood always there is too
much of it and the copy reader’s night ends in the contemplation of a
mass of discarded manuscript and a ruin of reportorial reputation.
And on the morrow comes an awful hour of reckoning. The editor in
chief misses from his own paper a bit of Washington political news
that some other paper had printed. He speaks to the managing editor
about it, and the managing editor knowing that the news was in the
office and was not printed, damns the copy reader for throwing it away.
The city editor who had gone home with visions of two fine fat news
features each of an embellished column in length finds in their place
two emaciated paragraphs containing naught but cold news facts with no
juice in them--he damns the copy readers. The reporters who wrote the
column stories, reduced to shreds, surcharge the place with spectacular
profanity and damn the copy readers. The men who wrote twelve dollars
worth of stuff at space rates and had it cut down to three dollars
worth, damn the copy readers. The reporters who wrote reams of routine
stuff that did not appear at all, damn the copy readers. Everybody
damns the copy readers!
The respectable newspapers of America strive sincerely for accuracy of
statement. Reporters are instructed constantly to be accurate. Copy
readers and every one else in the place are urged to vigil in the
detection of error. The news rush and the consequent confusion in the
last half hour before getting to press contribute to the danger of
mistake, but for the most part every newspaper article is carefully
considered and repeatedly scrutinized.
A news report of importance, for instance, is written by an
experienced reporter. Usually it is scanned by the city editor. It is
then revised by a copy reader who is supposed to be expert in preparing
manuscript. The compositor puts it in type and the proof reader
searches it ostensibly for errors in typing, but always must he note
any error. He is expected to call to the attention of the night editor
any misstatement of fact or violation of newspaper usage or of practice.
Then, too, in almost every office is “the learned proof reader” who
bothers himself not with typographical errors but who reads from
revised proof sheets in searching quest of anything wrong--misused
words, verbal or grammatical slips, misspelled proper names, distortion
of any fact--and it is curious what a lot of errors he digs out that
have passed everybody else. Likewise in many editorial rooms sits
another all-wise man who in a semi-editorial capacity reads proof
sheets of all matter in the same search for the undesirable. The
managing editor, the night editor, and the night city editor also
have proof sheets of all matter which they read devoutly for a dozen
reasons. Nevertheless there appeared in one of our especially learned
and correct New York newspapers a sentence written by a reporter and
passed by the copy reader, the proof reader _ordinaire_, the learned
proof reader, the editorial proof reader _de luxe_, the managing
editor, the night editor and the night city editor--a sentence that
read: “He had fractured her skull by hitting it with an empty bottle of
beer.”
The same newspaper’s music constituency was moved to emotion one
morning on reading that applause followed the singing of “The Soldiers’
Chorus by Faust.” Whether the writer intended to say that Faust sang
the chorus, or the chorus was written by Faust, or that it was from
the opera of Faust probably never will be known, but the chances are
that he inadvertently wrote “by Faust” when he intended to write “from
Faust.”
Truth is, that human intelligence has not yet devised a way of keeping
error out of printed publications. The public does not understand
the painstaking care with which news is presented by well regulated
newspapers, nor are the difficulties or the unfavorable conditions
under which newspapers are made at all appreciated by people who read.
Men of other professions have almost unlimited time for consideration.
The lawyer may devote months to the preparation of his case. The
clergyman may take seven days to perfect his sermon. The physician at
times is called to quick action, but usually he may ponder for hours or
days over the condition of his patient.
But quick judgment and quick action are a daily necessity in the
newspaper office. The biggest event of the month may explode an hour
before time for going to press. The news must be prepared with frantic
haste with half the staff tumbling over each other, so to speak, in
the rush to be on time. In afternoon sheets all news received after
one o’clock and in morning editions after midnight are subject to
this acceleration of mind and movement and persons who have not
participated in the spasm can little appreciate the opportunity for
error.
In these hours a man’s experience, his general knowledge of the
business, is of great assistance. It is then that his confidence or
his distrust in the source of the information governs. Rumor is the
busybody of the business and her moments of greatest activity are just
before the time for going to press.
It is true, also, that first accounts of great events are likely to be
exaggerated; almost always are greatly exaggerated. The cable flash
announcing the blowing up of the _Maine_ in Havana harbor said that
not a man remained alive. The first brief telegram telling of the San
Francisco earthquake reported that not a building remained standing.
With the first report of the assassination of Colonel Roosevelt came
the statement that he was dead. First reports of losses of life in
great disasters, of losses in big fires, are usually double the actual
loss.
It is a vital part of newspaper vigil to question all unusual or
extraordinary statements and news editors by habit come to doubt
every statement made. This is meant to be said of honest editors; the
dishonest ones seek to exaggerate the original exaggeration.
The preparation of newspaper copy in the last hour before going to
press gives supreme test to the writer’s powers of concentration,
his self-possession, and his agility of mind. It happens frequently
that the managing editor says to him, “You have just eight minutes
in which to finish that article” and a little later the night editor
may cry out: “Close everything for this edition in five minutes.”
It is exceedingly disturbing to the young man who is beginning. The
experienced men are unmoved. It is common enough for a man to write
in an hour after midnight a column or more about a murder, a fire, a
calamity, or the obituary of a distinguished person. Men who do this
rapid work at the last instant may have been on duty for ten or twelve
hours and the climax to the day’s labor calls for greater intensity
than anything that has preceded. Physical endurance is involved as well
as mental celerity.
The invention of the typewriter has helped vastly to speed up newspaper
composition. The reporter may dictate his narrative. In the old days
frequently he had to make a long journey to the newspaper office before
beginning to work with pen or pencil. Nowadays, if need be, he dictates
his report through the telephone to a typewriter in the office.
Newspaper correspondents five hundred, and even one thousand, miles
away do this kind of emergency telephoning.
Indeed, it may be said that modern invention has revolutionized the
process of speeding up newspaper making. When I first went to New York
the capacity of the improved newspaper press was eight pages. If a
larger paper were wanted the extra pages were printed separately as a
supplement many hours before the main eight sheet was put to press.
To-day, thanks to the inventor of the multiple printing press, the
news editor may decide fifteen minutes before going to press whether
to make a twelve page newspaper or a twenty page newspaper or even a
thirty-four page newspaper.
The big modern newspaper is made with a speed that is almost
bewildering. For, in place of the old laborious journeying to the
office, the writing of the news with pen or pencil, the typesetting of
the same by hand and the old style stereotyping process requiring half
an hour, the printing of sheets limited to eight pages on presses that
produced only about fifteen thousand copies an hour--in place of these
clumsy processes, news reports are dictated over the telephone, the
matter is set by machinery in a fraction of the time formerly required,
is stereotyped in six minutes and set going on half a dozen presses
with a capacity each of more than thirty thousand copies an hour.
The reporting of big events that may be anticipated, like the
inauguration of a president, a great festival in honor of a martial
hero or in commemoration of peace, or a popular demonstration of any
sort--anything that is scheduled to happen, is carefully arranged for
in advance.
It is conceded that the biggest and most important single piece of news
handled up to that time in a newspaper office was the story of the
loss of the _Titanic_. The finest steamship that ever had been made
struck an iceberg on her first voyage and sank with a loss of fifteen
hundred persons, including scores of our well known residents--and that
was all we knew of the disaster until the survivors were landed on a
New York pier. The wireless had sent a partial list of survivors but
not a word of detail about the disaster itself. Public interest was
tremendously excited. It was known that the survivors were to land at
a given hour in the evening and city editors had plenty of time to
arrange for getting the great narrative but limited time for writing
it--for newspapers must go to press on the minute in order that mail
and express bundles of the edition may catch outgoing trains.
Thirty or forty reporters were sent by each New York newspaper to
meet the rescue ship. Each man had a definite thing to do. One man,
for instance, was to write a column of just what had been going on
in the ship for the twenty-four hours before she sank. Another was
to write of the warnings to the _Titanic’s_ officers that ice fields
were ahead. Another was to explain just how the ship struck, how she
was damaged and how and when she filled and sank. A fourth was to
describe in detail how the life boats were manned and launched and who
went in them. A fifth was to tell of nothing except what the commander
of the ship was doing up to the moment he was lost. Six or eight
reporters were instructed to get as many narratives of the experiences
of survivors as possible--and so on preparations were made to the
completion of every detail that possibly could be anticipated--every
man instructed exactly what to do and warned not to attempt anything
else.
The preparations for printing this great narrative--and doing it in a
hurry--occupied many hours of the time of managing and city editors.
The organization of forces was necessary to prevent duplication and
confusion, useless running about and tumbling over each other by
reporters.
As an additional precaution to save time of reporters in going from the
pier to the newspaper office, a dozen telephones were set up in a shed
on the pier and a dozen of the reporters were instructed to dictate
their reports into the transmitters and a dozen typewriters were ready
to take them in the newspaper office.
The first sentence of this big story was written at 10:20 in the
evening, and copy for the first edition was shut off two hours
afterward. The first edition presses were started on time to the minute
with four pages of the disaster. A second edition one hour later
had seven pages of disaster matter--the narrative complete--about
equivalent in amount to the reading matter of the usual edition of the
_Scribner_ monthly magazine.
In doing this task neither the writing force nor the mechanical
department was extended or distressed or overworked. They could
easily perform the same feat every night in the week under the same
organization and loyal staff teamwork.
It is the business and the duty of the managing editor to oversee all
of these details. He is the executive officer of the newspaper. His
first duty is to carry out the policies of the editor in chief or the
owner. He is responsible for what goes into the paper. He is supposed
to know what is going on in every hemisphere and in every island of the
sea and to have it properly presented in the news columns. He must read
the other newspapers and periodicals to know what they are printing
and what of their contents should be printed in his own next edition.
He hires the staff, except the editorial writers, fixes the salaries,
obtains and directly supervises the matter for every column except the
editorial page. He must, indeed, keep a sharp eye on that page as well,
for it happens frequently that after an editorial article is ready for
printing, along comes later news that entirely changes the situation
and calls for revision of the article.
He decides questions in dispute. His best asset should be good
judgment: judgment what not to print as well as what should be printed;
judgment as to proper news values, whether to give one, two, or three
columns to an unexpected piece of news that explodes in Washington,
Dawson City or off Montauk Point; judgment whether to chance a libel
suit on one article or the infringement of copyright in another;
whether to minimize a social or a political movement or boom it. And
when these questions are flashed on this unfortunate man just as the
edition is going to press it must be a quick as well as a decisive
judgment.
The managing editor has to deal with men of all ages and of all
experiences. A big staff includes cranks, and enthusiasts, students
and philosophers, men of every race and religion whose illuminated
intelligence reflects every phase of eccentricity, every degree
of sanity, as well as every perfection of common sense--men of
intelligence, earnestness, sensitiveness, filled with ambition and
alive with interest and seeking above all to succeed in the business.
The managing editor needs the coöperation of all these men. A loyal
staff is full of suggestions, will go to extremes in support of its
leader; an indifferent staff is silent. It depends largely on how the
staff is treated by the management, whether it is loyal or indifferent.
Now you cannot manage a newspaper staff as you might a section gang
building a railroad. It is not to be expected that intelligent,
sensitive writers will spring to their work, will do better work, while
smarting under severe reproof or constant nagging. If they do it is
because they fear to lose their jobs, rather than from zeal. Not much
good newspaper work is done under an uplifted club. Little else than
resentment results from angry words.
One reason for Mr. Charles A. Dana’s success may be found in his fine
leadership. He inspired the confidence of his helpers by his surpassing
knowledge of the business. He encouraged them by his recognition and
appreciation of superior work and his absolute justice toward them. He
fascinated them by his genial ways. Everybody loved him and would do
anything for him. The editor of ability that endears himself to his
staff will surely make a great newspaper. The editor whose ability is
not respected, who does not recognize good service, who is constantly
nagging and complaining and finding fault, and arousing resentment--he
will see his circulation slipping away and his influence diminishing.
A newspaper staff is made up of delicately constructed, sensitive,
self-respecting men and women.
The managing editor hires the staff. And, as the success of the
newspaper depends on the writers, it behooves him to be careful in the
selection. The staff changes somewhat rapidly, its members drop out to
go to better posts on other newspapers or into other businesses and new
men are called to their places. Methods of recruiting the staff differ
in different offices. Many of the most successful newspapers have a way
of hiring young men to join as reporters and gradually advancing them
through a continuous process of growth. Thus a man is available always
to fill a vacancy and the staff in general is always complete. The real
vacancy is at the bottom of the list. Three months’ trial usually tests
out a beginner.
The newspaper is overrun with applicants. Every graduating college
class includes some men who wish to try the business. The schools of
journalism in the United States are turning out about four thousand
students yearly who want to go to work immediately. Many broken-down
clergymen and discarded school teachers think they can write and they
apply along with professional men, clerks, salesmen and others who
have failed to make good. A swarm of high school boys come along after
graduation. Very many men who have succeeded in country or small city
newspapers want to get going in the big cities. Bright newspaper office
boys seek to become reporters and go on to success. It is from all of
these that the staff is recruited. The managing editor of experience
comes to know almost by instinct whether an applicant will make a good
newspaper man, and while few of those who come are selected, it is
also true that a large proportion of those who are taken make good.
The supervision of the modern newspaper is much more difficult than it
was forty years ago for the reason that the staff is four or five times
as large. The size of the sheet has been more than quadrupled. The
managing editor no longer finds it possible to read every paragraph in
proof sheet before its publication; he must trust to his helpers. The
increased volume of matter compels increased labor in originating it,
increased attention to its consideration and preparation for printing.
The managing editor’s work literally is fourfold what it used to be.
The tendency of the hour is toward yet larger editions.