CHAPTER VII

SPECIAL KINDS OF NEWS

Special News Fields. Although practically all kinds of news stories conform to the general principles explained and illustrated in preceding chapters, the application of these principles to particular kinds of news may be considered in detail. On all but small papers the gathering and the writing of news in such special fields as sports, society, and markets are regarded as sufficiently different in character from general reporting to warrant having special editors for these departments. Each of a number of special kinds of reporting requires more or less expert knowledge, which a reporter who specializes in that field acquires as a result of training and experience. Sometimes, however, a general reporter may be sent out to cover an athletic contest or a society event, and he should be prepared to do either successfully. Every reporter should familiarize himself with the best methods of handling all kinds of news.

Sporting News Stories. The constantly increasing importance attached by newspapers to news of sports, particularly to that of baseball, makes it important for reporters to know the peculiarities of sporting news stories. The reporting of athletic contests is not always an easy task even when the reporter is familiar with all the details of the sport. In a football game, for example, it is difficult to determine which of the players carries the ball or makes a tackle in a given play unless the reporter knows each player and can recognize him quickly on the field. In baseball games the reporter must be able to keep a complete score from which to write his story and make his summary score. Quickness and accuracy of observation are essential in getting the facts correctly in any sporting event.

Reporting a Football Game. A football game affords a good opportunity for the student reporter to get excellent practice in covering an athletic contest. In preparing to report a game, he should get from the coach or the captain the correct line-up of each team and the names of the officials. If the line-up is written on a piece of cardboard and arranged so that the exact position of each player can be seen at a glance, the writer can refer to it constantly in reporting the plays. The way to arrange the line-up is shown below:

Chicago		Wisconsin
Williams—L.E.	\|	R.E.—Halpin
McDonald—L.H.B. Frean—L.T.	\|	R.T.—Muldon R.H.B.—Lynch
Johnson—L.G.	\|	R.G.—Peake
Smith—F.B. Pinch—Q.B. Hool—C.	\|	C.—Du Plain Q.B.—Keeler F.B.—Holt
Skillub—R.G.	\|	L.G.—O’Neil
Kidder—R.H.B. Dillon—R.T.	\|	L.T.—Minton L.H.B.—Dye
Reisen—R.E.	\|	L.E.—Schmidt

The reporter watches both teams carefully to see which men make each play, and as soon as the teams line up again, he notes the position that each of these men takes, so that he may identify them from his line-up card. As the game progresses he is able to recognize some of the players who repeatedly take prominent parts, and he need not refer to the line-up so frequently. The reporter may take notes on the plays as they are made, or, if it is necessary to mail or telegraph the story very soon after the game is over, he may write a running account as the game progresses, adding the lead after it is over.

In the choice and the arrangement of details, the story of a football game is not unlike other news stories. In the lead are placed the essential facts, which are the result, the score, the causes of victory and defeat, the teams engaged, the time and place of the contest, and any important circumstances. Because every reader is most interested in the result, that fact is usually “played up” as the feature. Why one team lost and the other won, or why the score was tied, the second fact in point of interest, is likewise given a prominent place at the beginning of the lead. A characterization of the playing of each team, an account of how and when the scoring was done, mention of the work of star players, and a description of the crowd, the condition of the field, and the weather, are the other details which are put in the lead. Following the lead is the story of the game told in as much detail as the assignment requires. If a short account is desired, only the important plays are given; if a full report is wanted, every play is described. After each score is made, and at the end of the report of each quarter, the complete score up to that point is given. At the end of the story are placed the line-up, a summary of the plays, and the names of the officials. The story given below may be taken as typical:

New Haven, Conn., Nov. 23.—Harvard trampled over Yale with a score of 20 to 0 on Yale field today, when the crimson eleven, taking advantage of Yale’s back field errors, made two touchdowns and two field goals. This victory carries the football championship of the East to Cambridge.

Harvard scored a touchdown and a field goal in both the first and third periods. The first score came when Storer recovered the ball which Wheeler, the Yale quarterback, dropped on being tackled, and sprinted twenty-five yards to the goal line. Hardwick kicked goal. A minute later, another Yale muff gave Brickley his chance to kick the first field goal.

A fumble by Flynn at the opening of[Pg 164] the third period gave the ball to Harvard, and in the scrimmage Brickley dashed eighteen yards for the second touchdown. He caught a Yale forward pass a few minutes later and ran forty-two yards, and, after a few plays, kicked the ball over the cross bar for the second field goal.

At no stage of the game did Yale have a chance to win, and only once did the team have a chance to score. That opportunity came during the fourth period, when they showed a versatility of attack that fairly swept the crimson eleven off their feet and brought the ball in a steady series of rushes over a stretch of sixty yards before it was lost on downs. But the flash came too late, and while it was at its height the most optimistic of the blue supporters could see nothing more than a chance to blot out the ignominy of a scoreless defeat.

What Yale did not do would fill a volume. Failure to catch punts was the great fault, a fault which happened so often that it might be called a habit. Wheeler muffed one in the opening period which paved the way for the first Harvard touchdown; Flynn missed one in the third period and opened the avenue for the other. Between times the ball was dropping from Eli arms so often that it seemed strange when it was caught.

Harvard’s splendidly finished team, good in all around play, worked to its limit a consistent kicking game against a team unable to handle punts. Little effort was made to test the strength of the blue line. The crimson offense was based almost entirely on getting down the field under Felton’s high spiral punts and taking advantage of the slippery fingers of Wheeler and Flynn. When stopped from tackle to tackle, they twice used fake plays with wide end runs for clever gains.

As in all this season’s games, the[Pg 165] brilliancy of Brickley’s running and goal kicking outshone the individual play of his team-mates. Twice he intercepted Yale forward passes, one of which he turned into a run of forty-two yards. The second touchdown was due solely to his speed down the field and to his keen eye in recovering Flynn’s muff, which he converted into a touchdown in the next scrimmage. He scored two out of his four attempts at field goals and missed the other two by a few feet.

Bomeisler, Yale’s star end, although twice taken out of the game because of the old injury to his shoulder, did the most remarkable work seen on Yale field since the days of Tom Shevlin. He was down the field like a race-horse under Lefty Flynn’s punts, and besides tackling with unerring accuracy, he threw himself so hard that the man was forced back considerably from the spot where he caught the ball.

Yale won the toss and chose to defend the north goal, the Crimson facing the sun. Flynn kicked off for Yale. The ball sailed behind the Harvard goal and was taken out to Harvard’s 20-yard line for scrimmage. Felton, on first down, kicked it back to the Yale 20-yard line. Flynn’s short kick drove the ball out of bounds at the Eli 40-yard line. Harvard’s backs then crashed through irresistibly until they reached the 20-yard line. The Yale defense grew compact at her 20-yard line, and two of Wendell’s smashes netted only a yard apiece. On the third down Brickley tried his first drop kick for goal, the ball going outside of the upright. Flynn punted to Harvard’s 40-yard line and Felton immediately returned it to the Yale 20-yard mark. A 15-yard penalty set Yale back to her 5-yard line. Flynn’s beautiful punt was muffed by Gardner at the Harvard 40-yard line, but it was recovered by Hardwick. Felton[Pg 166] punted out of bounds at Yale’s 40-yard line. Twice the Felton-Flynn duel brought exchanges of kicks without gains. The last Felton effort, however, dropped the ball into Wheeler’s lap and he muffed squarely. Storer seized it at the Yale 30-yard line and, aided by splendid interference by O’Brien and Parmenter, tore all the rest of the way for a touchdown. Hardwick kicked the goal. Score: Harvard 6, Yale 0.

Flynn kicked off behind the Harvard goal, and, from the Harvard 20-yard line, Felton immediately returned it. Yale was now in a panic, and Wheeler’s second muff dropped the ball under three sliding Harvard tacklers at the Yale 30-yard line. Yale got in hotter water through a 15-yard penalty, but Wendell’s plunges were held till third down, when Brickley registered Harvard’s second score through a faultless drop-kicked goal from the Yale 30-yard line. Following Felton’s return of Flynn’s kick-off, the first period closed. Score: Harvard 10, Yale 0.

[The detailed report of the other quarters follows,
and then the line-up is given.]

The line-up:

YALE.			HARVARD.
L. E.	Avery	\|	Felton	L. E.
L. T.	Gallauer	\|	Storer	L. T.
L. G.	Cooney	\|	Pennock	L. G.
C.	Ketcham	\|	Parmenter	C.
R. G.	Pendleton	\|	Trumbull	R. G.
R. T.	W. Warren	\|	Hitchcock	R. T.
R. E.	Bomeisler	\|	O’Brien	R. E.
Q.	Wheeler	\|	Gardner	Q.
L. H.	Philbin	\|	Hardwick	L. H.
R. H.	Spaulding	\|	Brickley	R. H.
F.	Flynn	\|	Wendell	F.

Substitutions: Yale—Cornell, for Wheeler; Dyer, for Cornell; Wheeler, for Dyer; Sheldon, for Bomeisler; Bomeisler, for Sheldon; Sheldon, for Bomeisler; W. Howe, for Sheldon; Carter, for Avery; Talbot, for Gallauer; Pumpelly, for Philbin; Merkle, for Flynn; Baker, for Merkle; Martin, for Pendleton; Reed, for W. Warren.[Pg 167]

Harvard—T. Frothingham, for Storer; Wigglesworth, for Parmenter; Driscoll, for Trumbull; Lawson, for Hitchcock; Hollister, for O’Brien; Bradley, for Gardner; Bradlee, for Hardwick; Lingard, for Brickley; Graustein, for Wendell.

Summary: Score—Harvard 20, Yale 0. Touchdowns—Storer, Brickley. Goals—Hardwick 2. Goals from field—Brickley 2. Referee—W. S. Langford, Trinity. Umpire—D. L. Fultz, Brown. Head Linesman—W. N. Morice, Pennsylvania. Time—15:00 periods.

“Covering” a Baseball Game. The accepted methods of reporting baseball games and other athletic contests, and the form in which stories of them are written, are very similar to those described above for football. The example given below shows the application of the general principles to baseball:

New York, May 6.—New York took second place from Philadelphia in a 3 to 2 game today notwithstanding that the Quakers hit Mathewson two and a quarter times as hard as the Giants hit Foxen.

Of their four hits New York grouped three in one inning, the sixth, in which they made their three runs; while Philadelphia got three of their nine hits in the eighth with but two runs. There was a shade of difference in the consecutiveness of the bunched hits, and that was where Mathewson was more effective than Foxen. A comparison of the work of the two pitchers, however, from the point of view of adverse runs, shows that there was an error by “Matty” which accounted for one Quaker tally, a wild throw in running down Bates, who soon afterwards scored.

The game was sharply played with a good deal of snappy fielding. Devlin and Knabe were fine on ground balls, each ranging swiftly to the left and gathering up everything within the limit. Doyle in the fifth made a star pickup of a hard ball to his right.[Pg 168]

Poor base running lost the Phillies a run in the fourth. Grant opened up with a hit, Magee sacrificed, and Bransfield hit to Doyle, who fumbled. The ball went through Doyle, and had Grant been watchful and kept right on home, he would have scored. As it was, he hesitated, then started for the plate, and was caught trying to get back to third.

New York’s scoring in the sixth began with Doyle’s liner to center. Murray laid down a bunt and put it where it did the most good. Titus was far out when he dropped Seymour’s fly to let Doyle and Murray move up a base each. Fletcher hit a fine one to right and brought Doyle and Murray home. Seymour scored on Doyle’s fly to Magee.

In the eighth with Foxen out, Philadelphia started off on their two tallies. Titus sent a two-base hit out along the chalk-mark to the south-east. Bates laced a single through the diamond and brought in Titus. Mathewson caught Bates napping, but overthrew the base in the run down and Bates scurried back to first. Grant was thrown out by Mathewson, Magee was passed, and Bransfield singled, letting Bates score. Two were left on bases when Knabe went out, Mathewson to Merkle.

The score:

PHILADELPHIA.						\|	NEW YORK.
	ab.	h.	p.	a.	e.	\|		ab.	h.	p.	a.	e.
Titus, rf	5	1	2	0	1	\|	Devore, lf	4	0	0	0	0
Bates, lf	4	2	2	0	0	\|	Doyle, 2b	3	1	1	6	1
Grant, 3b	4	1	1	1	0	\|	Murray, rf	4	1	1	0	0
Magee, cf	1	0	5	0	0	\|	Seym’r, cf	4	0	1	0	0
B’field, 1b	4	2	12	0	0	\|	Fleth’r, ss	3	1	1	0	0
Knabe, 2b	4	1	0	7	0	\|	Devlin, 3b	2	0	1	4	0
Dool’n, ss	4	1	1	1	0	\|	Merkle, 1b	2	0	18	1	0
Dooin, c	4	0	1	1	0	\|	Meyers, c	3	0	4	2	0
Foxen, p	3	1	0	2	0	\|	Math’on, p	3	1	0	7	1
*Ward	1	0	0	0	0	\|
––––––––––––						\|	––––––––––––
Totals	34	9	24	12	1	\|	Totals	28	4	27	20	2

*Batted for Foxen in the ninth inning.

Philadelphia	0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 0—2
New York	0 0 0 0 0 3 0 0 .—3

Runs—Philadelphia—Titus, Bates. New York—Doyle, Murray, Seymour. First base on errors—Philadelphia, 1; New York, 1.[Pg 169] Left on bases—Philadelphia, 8; New York, 5. First base on balls—Off Foxen, 3; off Mathewson, 2. Struck out—By Foxen, 1; by Mathewson, 3. Two base hit—Titus. Sacrifice hit—Magee. Sacrifice fly—Devlin. Stolen base—Fletcher. Balk—Foxen. Umpire in chief—Rigler. Assistant umpire—Emslie. Time—1 hour and 30 minutes.

The Style of Sporting News Stories. The style of sporting news stories is marked by the use of terms peculiar to the game or sport and often by the slang that is popular at the time, particularly the slang that is in vogue among those interested in each sport. Young reporters, and some older ones, too, seem to think that they can best prove their knowledge of sports by using in their stories as much as possible of the slang current among the professionals and their followers in the sport. On the other hand, some of the recognized authorities on sports write interesting and readable accounts of contests without indulging in such sporting slang. A number of sporting editors, in order to give variety to their daily reports of baseball games, have sought to coin new phrases and figures of speech, and the result has sometimes been so clever and amusing that these writers have established a considerable reputation for novelty of expression. Too frequently, however, the imitations of the work of the successful, clever few have not been effective, and consequently have not been so good as simple, direct reports. Originality of expression is as desirable in sporting news stories as it is elsewhere, but a style that is marked by little more than cheap humor and vulgar slang has nothing to commend it.

Society News. Society news is usually collected, written, and edited by the society editor, almost invariably a woman. In order to insure accuracy, facts for such stories should be obtained directly from those concerned in the event. Announcements of engagements and of weddings, particularly, must never be accepted for publication unless furnished by the persons themselves or their families, as would-be practical jokers not infrequently undertake to make victims of their acquaintances by sending to newspapers false announcements of this kind. Some newspapers distribute printed forms to be filled out by those giving important social entertainments, and these are sent out several days in advance so that they may be returned in time and the facts correctly reported.

The form and style of news stories of many society events are determined to some extent by social usages. Those who desire to become society editors, and reporters generally, because they may be assigned to cover society events, should notice carefully how news of this sort is written up in society columns. The typographical style often differs from that of the other parts of the paper. The whole story of a wedding, reception, or other social event, in many papers is given in one paragraph, although it may consist of several hundred words. A concise story giving all the essential details, and avoiding trite expressions like “charming,” “beautiful,” and “tastily,” is the most acceptable one.

Conventional forms for such typical events as weddings, receptions, and announcements of engagements are given below:

Announcements of Engagements

(1)

Mr. and Mrs. William Gideon Hethrington of Trenton, N. J., formerly of Chicago, announce the engagement of their daughter, Marjorie, to Ernest Wilson Swan, son of Mr. and Mrs. Carl J. Swan, of Cleveland.

(2)

The engagement is announced of Miss Ida Wellington Winter of St. Paul, to Milton Gilman Wells, son of Col. John Ottway Wells, U. S. A., Military Attaché in Panama, and nephew of Mayor Stephen S. Wells, Military Attaché to the American Embassy in Paris. The announcement was made by Mr. and Mrs. Gordon S. Stanford of St. Paul, aunt and uncle of Miss Winter, at whose home at Leonard Place the wedding will take place some time next month. Mr. Wells was graduated from Princeton in 1906, and is in business in this city. He lives at the Princeton Club, 121 East Twenty-first Street.

Weddings

(1)

Mr. and Mrs. James H. Hayes of Winton, N. Y., announce the marriage of their daughter Helen to Eugene Payson Drown, formerly of Chicago. The wedding took place Wednesday in Brookville, N. Y. Mr. and Mrs. Drown will reside in Brookville.

(2)

The marriage of Miss Rose Eldred White, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph White of 230 Wilmington Avenue, to Nathaniel Robert Owen, will take place Monday evening, Dec. 9, at the Hotel Sherman in the presence of the immediate families.

(3)

The marriage of Miss Ruth Oswick, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton Hines Oswick of 511 North Highland avenue, Pembroke Park, to Franklin Isquith, was celebrated last night at 9 o’clock at the First Congregational Church of Pembroke Park, Dr. John Howard Grosvenor performing the ceremony. Mrs. Holton, sister of the bride, was matron of honor. Miss Ina Isquith,[Pg 172] sister of the bridegroom, was maid of honor, and there were six bridesmaids—the Misses Vera Pynch of St. Louis, Bertha Marquis, Ethel High, Marguerite Winton, Doris Hyde, and Edna Stone. Franklin Williams Oswick, brother of the bride, was best man and the ushers were W. W. Collins, Leonard Danzic, Richard De Long, Pembroke Johns, Chester Danzic, and Richard Lewis of Chicago. Elizabeth Reed, cousin of the bride, was flower girl and Burton Davies of Oak Park acted as master of ceremonies. The bridal gown was of ivory charmeuse satin with an overdress of chantilly trimmed with pearls, and the bridal shower bouquet was of lilies of the valley and brides’ roses. The matron of honor wore lavender brocaded satin trimmed with lace and crystals and carried lavender sweet peas. The maid of honor’s gown was of pink embroidered Japanese brocaded silk trimmed with Venetian lace. She carried lavender chrysanthemums. The bridesmaids wore frocks of the different colors of the rainbow. Two were in blue, two in yellow, and two in green. They carried white chrysanthemums. A reception for 500 guests followed at the Colonial Club of Pembroke Park. The decorations were chrysanthemums, smilax and palms. Mr. and Mrs. Isquith will be at home in Los Angeles after Feb. 1.

Luncheons, Receptions, Etc.

(1)

Mrs. Wilson McHain gave a luncheon yesterday at the Woman’s Athletic Club in honor of Miss Florence Raymond Baugh, who is to be married to Dale Cranford Haynes of Buffalo, N. Y., on Saturday. Covers were laid for six, and the guests were Miss Gertrude Binton, Mrs. Harrison Stanton, Mrs. Arthur G. Nain, and Mrs. Willard S. De Long of Buffalo.

(2)

Mr. and Mrs. Donald White McNabey, Markham Place, will give a reception on Thursday from 5 to 7, in honor of their daughter, Miss Dorothy McNabey, who will be presented to society. Following the reception, the young people in the assisting party will be entertained at a supper and informal dance.

Club News

(1)

The civics and philanthropy class of the Highland Park Culture Club will hold its first meeting of the year this morning at 10 o’clock at the Hotel Van Buren. Mrs. Arthur G. Antwick is chairman.

(2)

An ornamental public drinking fountain of marble and granite, bearing arc electric lights at its top, will be erected by the Woman’s Outdoor League and placed in some prominent public place, according to plans arranged at a meeting of the league in the Hamilton Hotel yesterday afternoon. “The league has erected and placed six small public drinking fountains in congested districts of the city,” said Mrs. Franklin Renton, president of the league, “and we will now erect a fountain that will be a credit to the outdoor work of our organization and a beauty spot for the city. As soon as we have determined upon the site where the fountain will be placed we will arrange for proper public ceremonies dedicating it to the city.” During the last year the league has erected a bungalow in the Zoölogical Gardens besides supervising other outdoor work. Officers chosen for 1913 were:

President—Mrs. Dean C. White.

First vice-president—Mrs. Albert D. Halen.[Pg 174]

Second vice-president—Miss Willa Murray.

Secretary—Mrs. Parkins Greene.

Treasurer—Miss Clarice Morgan.

(3)

The Social Economics Club met yesterday afternoon at 2 o’clock in the Woman’s Temple. Mrs. John Robins Bell in a paper on “Industrialism” advocated vocational training in the public schools in connection with the regular school course. Miss Viola Harding sang, accompanied by Miss Alice Lanning.

Banquets and Holiday Celebrations. News stories of banquets and of various forms of holiday celebrations are not usually put in the society columns and are not covered by the society editor. If at a banquet after-dinner speaking is the important part of the event, such portions of the speeches as are of great interest are given the most space. If the speaking is not a feature, a description is given of the occasion, and particularly of any interesting incidents or unusual circumstances. For stories of holiday celebrations, such as Christmas festivities, a general descriptive lead serves to introduce accounts of various forms of celebration by societies, at public institutions, and on the streets.

How such an event as a banquet may be written up at some length in an unconventional manner with enough life and interest to make it entertaining reading, is shown in the following news story taken from the New York Sun:

If you’ve ever sat in the enemy’s camp when the Blue eleven lunged its last yard for a touchdown and had your hair ruffled by the roar that swept across the gridiron, you can guess how 1,500 Yale men yelled at the Waldorf last night for Bill Taft of ’78.[Pg 175]

It came all at once, a terrific, ear-jarring crash of cheers that danced the glasses on the table tops and fluttered the big flags around the balconies. They had ceased the pounding chant of “Boola.” The classes from ’53 to ’08 had flung the Brek-a-kek-kek, Ko-ax, Ko-ax from wall to wall, and the orchestra, away up under the roof, had dropped the horns and fiddles from sheer weariness. There was a moment of unexpected quiet.

Suddenly the electric lights died all over the grand ballroom. A searchlight sprayed its rays squarely on a drop curtain which pictured the old Brick Row as it was in the days when President Taft was a freshman. You could see the rail fence, even the initials cut along the boards—“W. H. T.,” “O. T. B.,” “A. T. H.” Tall elms leaned toward the ancient buildings and spread their foliage over the dingy roofs.

The broad band of light moved up and down over the picture, hesitated, then fell squarely on President Taft as he sat with President Arthur Twining Hadley of the university and President James R. Sheffield of the Yale Club. The President’s head was half turned toward the picture of the old Brick Row. He wasn’t smiling.

The yell started, spread all over the room and gathered force as man after man opened the throttle of his lungs and turned on the full power that was in him and roared and thundered until the lights went out again. In the darkness presently the old Brick Row appeared and took form. Soft lights gleamed at the windows of the dormitories. The chapel bell tolled faintly. The cheerful voices of freshmen calling to freshmen were heard very faintly. A shout only less mighty than the salute to the President shook the big room and shortly passed to laughter.[Pg 176]

Somebody started a chant. The Yale graduates took it up by hundreds until 1,500 of them shouted in rhythm:

Oh, Freshman, put out that light!

That was Yale’s greeting to Taft of ’78. The welcome to President William Howard Taft, who happened to have been graduated from Yale and not some other university—Harvard, say, or Princeton—came later, when President Sheffield of the Yale Club and President Hadley sent big words over his head and admitted that the character of the man had something to do with his rise in the world as well as the Yale training.

But there were many moments when the graduates put aside the fact that they were entertaining the President. The old men who were graduated a little before or a little after Mr. Taft and had known him in college gravitated toward the dais by twos and threes, laughing and chuckling and poking each other in the ribs. Mr. Taft was on his feet most of the time.

“Bill, I wonder if you remember this one—” and Tom of ’78 or Jack of ’79 would reel off a story or a joke that hadn’t been released maybe for thirty years. There was the story of the little red hen—but it need not be repeated. Mr. Taft remembered it, that was certain.

And while the handshaking and the reminiscences and the old jokes were keeping Mr. Taft busy on the dais, a cannonading of cheers and songs was fired at him from every table in the room. They sang him “The Old Brick Row” and “Yale Will Win,” and when they had run through these they took up “Boola” again and again until the sweep of its rhythm had drawn the voice of every man in the room, including the President’s.[Pg 177]

It was the biggest dinner ever held in the Waldorf-Astoria, which means perhaps the biggest in New York city. Several years ago the Republican Club entertained Col. Roosevelt at the Waldorf and upward of 1,200 men crammed themselves in to eat and drink and cheer. Last night’s broke all the records. There were exactly 1,448 at the tables and more than 100 who came late were not able to sit down at all. Every square foot of space in the grand ballroom except the narrow lanes for the waiters was occupied. The dinner overflowed into the Astor gallery, where elbow room was desired and denied. There were tables in the hallways and tables set in the two levels of boxes—something that doesn’t happen in a generation.

The stage was set with attention to detail shown by professionals. Besides the big drop curtain behind the head table, which depicted the old Brick Row as it was in Taft’s time, they had strung a section of rail fence in front of the table, a replica of the fence on which Mr. Taft used to whittle his initials. The elms of the picture sent their tops as far outward on the canvas as possible, and then the illusion was carried out cunningly by the greenery that underhung the ceiling. The ballroom floor was the campus of Yale, and the illusion was produced pretty successfully.

All through the smilax and vines of the ceiling were thousands and thousands of pink roses, roses past all counting. There were clusters and pots of them on the table tops, hung from the balconies and draped around swinging incandescents, which glowed pink when the lights were lowered. All of these things were accomplished by Noble F. Hoggson of ’88, who got busy in the banquet room at 2 o’clock yesterday morning after a ball had danced itself out.

The following description of a newsboys’ Christmas “feast,” as reported in the New York Tribune, illustrates another type of work which the reporter is called upon to do:

A game dinner where the eaters were game,—that was the newsboys’ Christmas feast, provided last night in the Brace Memorial Newsboys’ Lodging House, No. 14 New Chambers street, by William M. Fliess, Jr. The happiness of poverty without responsibility, of boyhood unchecked, of sporting blood untamed, of divine independence, shone from the eyes of those noisy “newsies,” thrilled in their laughter, barked in their shouts. And envy, not pity, stirred the hearts of the men and women who had left comfortable homes, in immaculate attire, to watch the children of the street absorb their little mountains of food.

No separate courses, no cocktails and caviar, no after-dinner speeches were needed to make that dinner palatable, to separate mind from stomach, to create buoyancy of spirits. A big bowl of thick, steaming soup; a plate heaped with turkey, potatoes and mashed turnips; a cupful of smoking coffee and a whole pie, as round as the smiling face of the sun, greeted each separate appetite simultaneously, and caused no gorge to rise. Not a bit of space was wasted on those long, white tables, flanked by their narrow, red benches. Big bunches of celery took the place of inedible decorations, and appealed infinitely more to the artistic souls of the grimy little guests than would flowers or ferns.

All ages from five to twenty were represented, and big boy and infant sat side by side in perfect comradeship, since age counts for little in the[Pg 179] freemasonry of the street. Some pinched, white little faces there were, but not many, to set off by comparison the wind reddened cheeks of most of the throng. None had an overcoat; some were even without jackets, but they all looked warm. One young man of six marched in with a drum, which matched his countenance for expansive roundness and noisy Christmas cheer. He sat down with it strapped to his side, which crowded his neighbor somewhat, but there was no complaint, for not even a “newsy” could entertain the thought of separating him for a moment from such a present.

The feast started at 7 o’clock, but at 8 o’clock there were many places still empty and waiting, for the late “extras” with news of the Johnson-Burns prizefight detained many of the older boys who had important stands. And for the same reason there was little of the organized cheering of former years for the benefactor and for Superintendent Heig, since “Chicago Tom,” “Wise Joe” and other leaders were still selling “papes” at the bridge entrance. But it was a “handout till midnight,” and time enough to “stick on de job” and “get in on de feed,” too.

It was hard, though, on the shivering, shuffling line of beggared outcasts which hugged the Brace Memorial building on three sides, waiting until all the “newsies” had got “theirs.” Here was no Christmas buoyancy, only hopeless patience in wasted faces, in huddled forms, in gnawing hunger which sprang not from red blood. That dim, silent fringe which pressed tight up against the brick walls, as if seeking warmth and sustenance from the contact, expressed the antithesis of the scene within. Emphasis of this was not wanting as groups of boisterous “newsies,” clattering down the stairs[Pg 180] and bursting out of the door, haled different members of the company.

“Hungry, Bill?”

“Wait till next Christmas.”

And the replies, accompanied by wan smiles:

“Say, kid, what dey handin’ out?”

“Are ye leavin’ enough fer us?”

These men were to get what the “newsies” left, and yet not all either, for following them would come the women, the tattered hags of the night. And so the feast, begun in brightness, would end with the saddest chapter of civilization.

The women did not line up. They shrank from the stares of passersby, and waited until the last before crawling forth from their lairs.

Two thousand newsboys and homeless men and women were fed through the generosity of Mr. Fliess, who provides such a feast every Christmas. His father began giving these annual dinners forty-five years ago, and his son is continuing them in his memory. Seven hundred pounds of turkey, three hundred of ham, four barrels of potatoes and four of turnips, fifteen hundred pies and countless gallons of coffee, tea, and soup were the principal items of his provision last night. Two hundred applicants were seated at a time. There was no disorder.

One man, arriving late, when the last dishes were being cleared away, was referred to Mr. Heig.

“Misteer,” he said, “I came from Peekskill, walking all the way, and I am most famished. Can I have something to eat?”

“There is a cup of tea or coffee left, anyway, and a piece of bread. Give it to him,” Mr. Heig said, turning to his assistants.

Presently a plate of steaming turkey and vegetables was placed in front of the man. Mr. Heig said one of the girls helping in the kitchen,[Pg 181] who hadn’t eaten anything since morning, had insisted that her share go to the traveller.

Mr. Heig said the closing of many manufacturing plants in the last year had set thousands of boys adrift. The Newsboys’ Lodging House had become a haven, he said, for all the homeless and friendless lads in the city, and in the last year had sheltered 3,844 different boys.

Christmas and other holidays give occasion for accounts of various forms of celebration, of which the following story from the New York Evening Post is a good example:

Just when the afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen in Trinity churchyard, the snow-hedged paths were filled with children hurrying to the service known as the “Visit to the Manger.” By scores they surged along, bearing banners, until the church doors swallowed them up. It was the day of one of Trinity’s most hallowed customs. Nobody knows exactly when it was instituted, although tradition says that it began during the late Dr. Dix’s incumbency. With the passing years the “Visit to the Manger” has become the recognized prelude to the Sunday School feast and Christmas tree, on the day before Christmas.

In the church long streamers of greens twined the pillars, and here and there gleamed holly; above the rows of heads the banners with their inscriptions trembled. Shrill young voices joined in the carols. Notes of the processional rang clearly.

Once in royal David’s city

Stood a lowly cattle shed,

Where a mother laid her Baby

In a manger for His bed;

Mary was that mother mild,

Jesus Christ her little Child.[Pg 182]

Afterward they sang “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” and when the address had been delivered by the presiding clergyman, the children chanted that other wonderful old carol, “The Snow Lay on the Ground.”

The snow lay on the ground,

The stars shone bright,

When Christ our Lord was born

On Christmas night!

When Christ our Lord was born

On Christmas night!

Then came the “Visit to the Manger.” Long ranks of children were formed in the aisles, and, led by two trumpeters from the Metropolitan Opera House blowing “Waken, Christian Children,” they marched in solemn procession to the vestibule under the spire, right in the main entrance, where the manger was situated.

On a platform, raised so that everybody could see it, was a representation of the Night at Bethlehem. All the characters in that first drama of Christianity were there; the sheep and cattle stood munching straw—or so it seemed. Lighted candles glowed on them, and overhead boomed the great organ, while the children’s voices sang as they looked and marched on:

Waken, Christian children.

Up! and let us sing

With glad voice the praises

Of our new-born King.

Up! ’Tis meet to welcome,

With a joyful lay.

Christ, the King of Glory,

Born for us to-day!

When all of them—and there must have been three or four hundred—had made the “Visit to the Manger,” and were back in their seats once more, so many orderly rows of Sunday school children, instead of little pilgrims wandering a road far older than that which leads to Canterbury, the service was resumed, and soon came the recessional “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”[Pg 183]

The service over, the congregation, a very much excited array, was marshalled to the parish house in the rear of the church where the great Christmas tree and a gorgeous feast were awaiting them. There were moving pictures, too, that showed the journey of the Wise Men from the East and the Star that guided them.

Writing Obituaries. News stories of deaths, with the biographical sketch, or obituary, which usually accompanies such announcements in the case of men of more or less prominence, constitute another type that differs somewhat from general news stories. The essential facts for the lead are the name of the person, his position, his address, the cause of his death and the duration of his illness, the names of the members of his family that survive him, and any important circumstances connected with his death. The significance of his career, or an estimate of his life work, may often serve to connect the lead with the biography that follows. Every well organized newspaper office files biographies of well-known men of the city, state, or nation, when these are published in newspapers or magazines, or are furnished by news bureaus, so that they may be ready for instant use when an obituary is to be written. To this “morgue,” or “graveyard,” as it is called, the reporter or editor goes to get whatever material is on hand concerning the person whose obituary he is to write. “Who’s Who,” biographical dictionaries, city, county, and state histories, and other similar books of reference, furnish valuable data for biographies.

How a biographical sketch of a well-known man may be written up in the newspaper office when the news of his death is received, is shown in the following story of Dr. Koch and his work, which appeared in the Boston Transcript:

Baden Baden, May 28.—Professor Robert Koch, the famous bacteriologist, died here yesterday afternoon from a disease of the heart. He was born at Klausthal, Hanover, Dec. 11, 1843.

The name of Dr. Robert Koch is one of the most illustrious in that comparatively small group of the world’s great medical specialists. He was one of the very few men who have demonstrated entirely new principles and developed them to practical results.

Dr. Koch’s investigation of anthrax, to which Pasteur had devoted a great deal of attention, first brought him into general recognition as an authority. A visitation of cholera at Hamburg afforded him scope for experiments in that direction, and to Koch undoubtedly belongs the distinction of specifying and demonstrating the cholera bacillus. He was placed at the head of the cholera commission, and subsequently visited Egypt and India, when those countries were scourged by a cholera epidemic, his services being recognized by various decorations of honor and by a substantial honorarium of 100,000 marks ($20,000).

In the course of his cholera investigations he exemplified the fact that the bacillus, or active organism of the disease, seldom enters deeper than the living membrane of the intestines. His discoveries in demonstrating separately and specifying the bacillus or micro-organism of disease, have also contributed most valuable knowledge of the cause of typhoid fever and erysipelas.

In the popular mind he was perhaps best known as the discoverer of a supposed cure for consumption, a remedy which failed to fulfil the[Pg 185] hopes of an over-expectant public. Yet the tremendous strides made in recent years toward the stamping out of that supposedly incurable disease are due, more than to any other one man, to the great German experimenter. Medical men today freely attribute the striking decrease in the death rate from tuberculosis to Koch’s discovery in 1882 that the disease is infectious. To this achievement he added important studies of malaria, cholera, bubonic plague, rinderpest, cattle plague, splenic fever and wound poison.

Dr. Koch received a medical education at Göttingen. After his graduation, in 1866, he became assistant surgeon in the Hamburg General Hospital. Later he took up private practice at Langenhagen, Hanover; at Rakwitz, Posen; and at Wollstein, Posen. By 1872 he had already a standing in his profession which won him an appointment to the Imperial Board of Health. Ten years later he succeeded in isolating the tubercle bacillus, and his standing as an expert was secure.

Honors followed fast. He was made privy councillor in 1883, and became director of the Cholera Commission to India and Egypt. In 1884 he discovered the cholera spirillum, regarded as the positive test of Asiatic cholera, and for this signal service he received by legislative act a gift of $20,000. The following year he became a professor in the University of Berlin, director of the newly established Hygienic Institute of Berlin, and also director of the Prussian Board of Health.

But so far the winner of scientific honors had escaped the popular notice. It was in November, 1890, that word was suddenly flashed around the world that a German scientist had discovered an infallible remedy for tuberculosis. “Koch’s consumption[Pg 186] cure” became a talismanic phrase of hope to millions. Consumptives rushed to Berlin from every corner of the earth. Men in the last stages of the disease died in railway carriages on their way to the great physician. No one regretted this tragic manifestation more than Dr. Koch. He had known that his experiments were incomplete and that he was not yet ready to put his tuberculin to practical use. He sought to keep it from the public, but sensationalists garbled his modest report, and the mischief was wrought.

Nevertheless, the student continued his work undaunted. The Robert Koch Institute for the investigation of tuberculosis was founded in Berlin. Andrew Carnegie contributed $125,000 to its work. From it has proceeded the most valuable backing of the world-wide war on the white plague.

Dr. Koch’s latest work was the investigation in South Africa of sleeping sickness, in recognition of which Emperor William conferred on him the title of Excellency. From August, 1906, to October, 1907, the doctor and his assistants carried on these investigations on the Sesse Islands, in the Victoria Nyanza. The work was not without its dangers, as the disease manifested itself there in its most virulent form. Natives were dying on all sides. He discovered the origin of the disease in the tsetse fly. To destroy this fly and thus end the scourge he recommended the annihilation of the crocodile, on whose blood the fly feeds.

On one point Dr. Koch differed radically from most other authorities on tuberculosis. He maintained that tuberculosis in cattle was not transferable to man. This position he held to most vigorously at the Tuberculosis Congress in London, in 1901. In 1908, however, when he came to this country to attend the congress at Washington,[Pg 187] he was fated to hear his conclusions voted down by a resolution of the body. He made no reply, and many believe his opinions had been modified. This journey to the United States in 1908 was his first trip to this country and America’s savants strove to pay him the honors due. He was the distinguished guest at a New York dinner. It was there that Andrew Carnegie called him one of the “heroes of civilization.”

Dr. Koch received the Harden medal in recognition of his eminent services to medical science and public health, the Nobel Medicine Prize, amounting to $40,000, for his researches looking to the prevention and cure of tuberculosis, and many minor honors.

The following obituary of a writer, though meagre in biographical detail, is well adapted to convey an impression of her personality and of the quality of her work. It appeared in the New York Sun.

Myra Kelly (Mrs. Allan Macnaughton), affectionately known to many thousands of readers as the writer of stories of Ghetto children, died yesterday in Torquay, England.

Ten years or so ago a newspaper man was dining one evening with Dr. James T. Kelly, who asked for advice concerning his daughter’s troubles with magazine editors. This seemed like the preface to a familiar story—the young woman had literary ability which the editors persistently refused to recognize. What was to be done?

But the story was not along that familiar line.

“My daughter, Myra,” said Dr. Kelly when his companion asked how he could help, “is teaching in a downtown East Side school. All of us at[Pg 188] home have been entertained by her stories of her pupils and I urged her to write some of them. She was timid about it because of the tales of often rejected manuscripts by unknown writers and did not say that she would make the trial.

“Unknown to me she did, though, and, determined to get over the agony of unanimous rejection as soon as possible, she made three copies of her story and posted one each to three magazine editors.

“This morning she came to me in distress with three letters from three editors, three checks, and three requests for more stories.”

Dr. Kelly’s companion agreed to act as diplomatic agent; he saw the three editors, settled the matter of first choice by lot, and gave the bewildered young school teacher’s promise of other stories in turn to the other two editors.

That was the unusual manner of entrance into the field of story writing of Myra Kelly, then a teacher in the primary grade of Public School 147.

The opinions of the magazine editors were speedily justified. Readers demanded more stories about “Isidore Belchatosky,” there were enthusiastic encores for further comment by “Morris Mogilewsky,” subscribers would not be denied more of the wisdom of “Becky Zalmonowsky,” and “Patrick Brennan,” whose father had resisted the tide which had swept most of his race away from Poverty Hollow, had friends by the thousands among magazine readers.

For the first story Myra Kelly was glad to accept $50; within a year she got $500 for every story she wrote.

And all she had done, she often said, was simply to write down the stories she told at home of the queer deeds and views of the Ghetto children to whom she was teaching a, b,[Pg 189] c,—and deportment. But these stories were so very unlike any others from out of that world “east of the Bowery,” reproduced so quaintly the dialects, so accurately the points of view, gave such a new, deep insight into that seething world where there were hundreds of thousands of citizens in the making, that their author quickly became famous and prosperous.

But Miss Kelly kept on with her work in that East Broadway school, and remained where she had elected to teach, in the lower grade. She might have had higher grade classes, for she had been specially prepared for her profession by post-graduate studies. But the little folk from the tenements seemed to her to deserve the best instruction that could be given to them not only in a, b, c, but in how to look upon life, domestic and civil. Also she kept on writing stories until they grew into books, “Little Citizens,” “Isle of Dreams,” and “Wards of Liberty,” and these books, selling by many large editions, had a big influence in shaping the work of many societies and organizations trying to help make good citizens out of the children of the Ghetto.

“Miss Bailey” was the name of the “Teacher” in those stories, and what teacher had to overcome in respect to her pupils’ views on some familiar aspects of American history is shown in this scene from one of her stories:

“Ain’t George Washington made shoots mit pistols?” demands Isidore.

“Yes, he did,” admitted Miss Bailey.

“Ain’t Teddy Rosenfelt hit mans? Und ain’t they made him President over it? On’y that ain’t how they makes mit mine uncle. They don’t make him Presidents nor papas, neither. They takes and puts something from iron on his hands so he couldn’t to talk, even. Then they puts him in a wagon und they says they sends him over the water.”

“Where?” asked the teacher.

“Over the river where islands is and prisons stands. That’s how they makes mit him, the while he hits somebody mit pistols. I guess they don’t know about[Pg 190] George and Teddy. They makes them—mine uncle tells you how they makes George and Teddy—Presidents over it.”

“But that was from long, Izzie,” Eva reminded him.

“And altogether different,” added Miss Bailey.

“An’ me pop wasn’t there; he’d a pinched ’em,” said Patrick.

“Und George had his gang along,” observed Nathan Spiderwitz.

“Und Izzie,” said Morris Mogilewsky, summing the matter up, “George Wash’ton, he ain’t hit mans in legs mit shootin’ pistols out killin’ ’em. You couldn’t to be Presidents or papas over that. George Wash’ton he kills ’em all bloody und dead. He kills bunches of tousens of mans. Why ain’t your uncle kill somebody?”

“He hits him in the leg,” reiterated Isidore sadly.

“But he ain’t killed ’em. Und, Izzie, sooner you ain’t killed somebody bloody und dead, you couldn’t to be President and papas of countries.”

In 1905 Miss Kelly married Allan MacNaughton. Her husband met financial reverses, her own health failed, and she was unable to do much more literary work.

Mrs. MacNaughton, who was born in Dublin, Ireland, about thirty years ago, came to this city with her father, Dr. James E. Kelly, when she was a young child and received her education in this city.

SUGGESTIONS

Familiarize yourself with the form of all kinds of news stories.
Remember that neither slang nor cheap humor is essential to a good sporting news story.
Be fair in your characterization of the playing of each team.
Avoid elaborate descriptions in the average society news story.
Don’t use hackneyed phrases in reporting society news.
Be accurate in the biographical data of obituaries.

PRACTICE WORK

1. Criticize the following football story and rewrite it:

Mid the strains of “O You Beautiful Doll” with variations of “We Won’t Get Home Until Morning” played in the gloaming, wherever that is, of a windy autumn eve, Referee Williams judiciously called a halt on the annual St. Clair-Winton battle at the Baseball park last night, just when the top edge of the moon peeped over Lake Erie and the cardinal cohorts were leading in the battle by a score of 25 to 7.

That’s the official count, three touchdowns, one goal from touchdown and two drop kicks against the green and white’s one lone touchdown, scored in the final quarter of a hectic struggle featured by good open play on the part of both elevens, Harry Hurson’s great kicking and marred by the poor tackling of both elevens.

It was just another St. Clair victory and thus it will go down in history. The old hoodoo still abides with the St. Clair boys south of the river, and Winton was not so much outplayed as outlucked. The cardinals keyed to the minute for the struggle were on their toes from the opening whistle. They played football at all times, took advantage of every weakness and never lagged no matter how great the advantage and as a result they copped the city laurels which are theirs by virtue of the victory, in a decidedly easy manner.

Winton on the other hand, outside of one or two individuals on the whole were content to take matters as they came and appeared averse to any exceptional effort, combined or otherwise. There was not that scrap and pep, that characterizes the annual fight between the two teams, and this more than any superior ability on the part of Schmidt’s champions, militated against anything like a victory for the Wintoners.

The first quarter was a feeler for both elevens. In an offensive way, the green and white did little, playing purely on the defensive, being content to punt on every first or second down, keeping the ball in cardinal territory. This worked well in the first quarter and the Winton men were never in danger of being counted on. The same holds true of St. Clair.

The second period brought a change of goals and although at the very start the ball was in St. Clair territory, the advantage of the wind now lay with the cardinals and Hurson’s sturdy boot soon made that fact known to the defenders of the east goal.

While Johnson in a measure held his own at this period with the St. Clair oval mixer, he was decidedly slow in getting off his spirals. A few minutes after the start of the quarter, St. Clair, with the advantage of the wind, worked well into their rival’s preserves and by sturdy plunges carried the pigskin to the thirty yard line. Winton held finally and after three futile flings at the[Pg 192] cardinal line by the green and white backs, Johnson again stepped back to boot the leather into safe ground. He made a miscue, however, in holding onto the ball too long, an accident which featured his play in the North side game. Devine opposing Franklin at tackle, wormed his way through the Winton defense and was on Johnson before the latter was aware of his presence. He blocked the attempted punt and followed up the ball which rolled well behind Winton’s goal, made one futile attempt to corral the oval as it rolled over the grass carpet, hopped to his feet again and this time drove true gathering the ball in his arms for the first score. A punt out by Hurson was properly heeled and the same Hurson booted the ball squarely between the goal posts, making the count 7 to 0. [Etc.]

2. Compare the following two reports of weddings and rewrite the first:

(1)

The beautiful autumn evening Tuesday, was the scene of a happy wedding at the pleasant country home of Mr. and Mrs. William A. Milton of Pembroke Park, when their only daughter, Ada May Milton, was united in marriage to Henry P. Williams, of Harrington, N. Y. Promptly at 4:30 p. m., the wedding party descended the stairway to the sweet melody of the wedding march, with Miss Kathrine Parker presiding at the piano. The procession was led by the small flower maiden, Miss Mabel Teller, dressed in pure white with a wreath of white daisies on her head and a large bunch of the same flowers in her hand. The bride was richly but simply clad in white satin trimmed in gold jetted passementerie and gold jetted neck yoke, with a filmy bridal veil daintily covering her golden brown hair and falling gracefully to the floor.

She carried fragrant white roses and pink carnations, and she was met in the hallway by the groom. The groom wore the conventional attire. He was accompanied by his friend Frank J. Norton, of Watertown, N. Y. The bride was accompanied by her cousin, Miss Henrietta Strong, now a student of Harrington normal. Miss Strong was dressed in pure white with a bouquet of pink roses and carnations. Together the bride and groom entered the flower festooned parlor to the soft strains of music. Rev. Herrin, of Pembroke Park, united the popular young couple according to the solemn ritual of the Methodist Episcopal church.

After a shower of congratulations the wedding party entered the dining room where a sumptuous feast of good things was served to about seventy guests amidst the usual social conversation whilst the Pembroke Park Brass Band played its choicest selections. Later there was music by Mrs. Henry Delton and her son, Master Harry Delton, on the piano and violin, the latter being a pupil of the bride, who is a music teacher in her town. Her education[Pg 193] is as follows: Harrington, N.Y., for normal course; Baltimore, Md., for business, besides Wesleyan College, Middleton, Pa., and Marietta, O., for musical education. The groom was for some time a telegraph operator at Buffalo, N. Y. but at present, being the last unmarried of the family, he has lived with his mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Williams. He belongs to one of Polk county’s well known families, and is a member of the Harrington Brass Band.

The bride belongs to one of the oldest and best families of her home county of Madison. Both are popularly and well known in the home circles of many friends.

Among pleasantly noted friends present were Cashier W. M. Schmidt of the Harrington bank, Miss Emma Miles of Harrington normal, James B. Rogers, merchant, of Littletown, and brother-in-law of the groom, accompanied by his small son, Robert, and Misses Jessie and Nettie Williams, cousins of the groom.

The wedding presents were numerous and of excellent selection, several arriving days before from invited guests unable to be present.

(2)

The wedding of Miss Gladys Virginia Du Frain, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. Cutter Du Frain, to William Battlesea, adopted son and heir of the late William Battlesea, was celebrated at noon yesterday at the Hotel Royal, the Rev. George S. St. Clair, rector of St. John’s Protestant Episcopal Church of this city, officiating.

Only relatives and a few intimate friends were present for the ceremony, which was performed in the Renaissance room. There was a temporary altar erected beneath a bower of palms and white chrysanthemums, and standards draped with white satin ribbon and topped with clusters of pink and white chrysanthemums formed an aisle through which the bridal party passed. An orchestra played during the service.

The bride walked to the altar with her father, who gave her away. She wore a gown of white satin trimmed with duchess lace, and a veil of old point lace which fell over a court train. She carried a bouquet of lilies of the valley and white orchids, and among her ornaments was a pearl necklace, the gift of the bridegroom.

Miss Charlotte Hinchkin, a cousin of the bridegroom, was the flower girl. Her costume was of white lace over pink satin. She wore a hat to match trimmed with pink tulle and she carried a basket of pink roses. Arthur Du Frain, brother of the bride, acted as page, and William J. Hinchkin, a cousin of the bridegroom, was the best man. There were no ushers.

After the ceremony there was a reception, followed by a wedding breakfast in the ballroom. The bridal party sat at a heart shaped table in the centre of a group of five tables. Mr. Battlesea and his bride left afterward for a short trip. They will live at 144 West Sixty-ninth street.