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The Smith-Crapley Wedding
“What’s up?” asked the foreman of the composing room, as he entered the sanctum for “copy,” and noticed the editor’s swollen forehead, broken nose, puffed red eye and tattered, dusty coat. “Did you fall downstairs?”
“No,” snapped the editor, pointing to a paragraph in the paper before him. “It’s on account of the Smith-Crapley wedding. It ought to read:
“Miss Crapley’s dimpled, shining face formed a pleasing contrast to Mr. Smith’s strong, bold physiognomy.”
“But look how it was printed.” And the foreman read:
“Miss Crapley’s pimpled, skinny face formed a pleasing contrast to Mr. Smith’s strange, bald physiognomy.”
“Smith was just in here,” continued the editor, as he threw his blood-streaked handkerchief into the waste-basket.