This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1899 edition. Excerpt: ... * A The City Editor's Conscience ""THE telegraph editor with the bald head was hanging his umbrella on the gasjet over his desk, so that no one would walk away with it by mistake or otherwise. The copy-readers were taking off their coats and cuffs and sitting down to their day's work. Nearly all the ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1899 edition. Excerpt: ... * A The City Editor's Conscience ""THE telegraph editor with the bald head was hanging his umbrella on the gasjet over his desk, so that no one would walk away with it by mistake or otherwise. The copy-readers were taking off their coats and cuffs and sitting down to their day's work. Nearly all the reporters had arrived; and one of them had already been sent down to the weather bureau to find out when the rain would stop, while another was on his way uptown on the elevated railroad to the home of a prominent citizen who had died during the night, just too late for the morning papers. Others were seated along the rows of tables waiting for assignments, and finishing the perusal of the morning papers, which was part of their business. Murdock, arriving late, came into the room quietly, taking off his coat, but the city editor, on the way from the telephone-closet, dashed down upon him: "If you can't get down here before 8.30, you'd better not come at all. This is no morning paper. Don't take off your coat. Run up to the Tombs Police Court and see if you can't get something good for the first edition." That was what the city editor said all in one breath, faster than you can read half of it, then hurried up to the desk and hammered the bell six times in rapid succession with the open palm of his hand, each stroke coming down quicker and harder than the one before it, until the last was but a dead, ringless "thump." And when Tommy or Johnny came running to the desk, the city editor snarled in his quick, tense voice: "Here, if you boys can't answer this bell quicker, you'll all be fired. Run upstairs with this copy." Johnny took it meekly but quickly, and ran (until out of the editor's sight) up to the composing-room, put the copy on the...
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