Life — April 14, 1898 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

* LIFE: sore sear MenUNMeran Ip The New Journalism. HE Managing Editor of the Yellow Hot sat at his desk surround- cdl by his hirelings, his great, white brow wrinkled with thought. Perspira- lion rolled off the noses of the weary chevaliers of in- dustry standing around, “McRobe!” at man, sharply. Protector of the Poor!” responded the age reporter, stepping forward. You have been derelict, MeRobe— !” said the Boss, sternly. ‘When 1 © you the Garbage department, and threw in the Putridity and Defamation columns, much was expected. You have only destroyed three reputations this week. With half a million honest women in New York, this displays a wretched lack of en- terprise.” “But, my lord,” protested McRobe, feebly, “Lam threatened with personal violence and imprisonment for my last “scoops.” “What of it? That ought to be worth two columns. Get a hustle on you now, called the Jabbers “Intellect of the Universe!” murmured Jabbers, emerging from the circle. “You are improving, but very slowly. Take your burglar kit and camera, and enter the Giltedge house to-night, and bring in a good story of the wedding pres- ents there, to match the marriage Tuesday. If you see anything lying around that will add interest to the sketch, borrow it. If cL] head, and get an interview on ‘How it Feels to be Sand- bagged.” “MeSmeller” was called, and a small, terrier-like man bowed and muttered: “Commander of the Faith- ful!” “MeSmeller, I like your work, The Kitchen and Swill Barrel of the Yel- low Rot is its pride, Judge Candor in his court to-day said this paper was a dis- grace to journalism; and the Judge isa judge. He lives at 976 Bulgaria Avenue, and has two daughters, Dis- guise yourself as a peddler; take a patent, keyhole, ear- trumpet and microscope; go to the back-déor and inter- view the scullery maid; if the daughters are out of town, work up a mysterious dis- appearance case, and ring in a coachman; get the scullery girl’s photo and a picture of the back-door. We'll make Candor under- stand that criticism is our business. We have too much of this Ellsworth rubbish, “Mr, Addle,” the editor went on, wav- ing McSmeller out, ‘you go down to Bat- tery Park this evening and jump over- board. You will be rescued by our spe- cial life-savers, and as you will fail to re- suscitate, you will be carried to the Morgue. MISTAKEN 325 Make two columns, This bundle of letters will be found on you. To-morrow morn- ing you will escape and make a story for the Sunday edition, showing up the inefti- ciency of the river police and the brutality of the employés of the Morgue. No, sir! We can't pay hospital expenses if you get pdeumonia; this is a paper, not a philan- thropic enterprise.” ‘The editor smiled benignly ona pale, nerv- ous young man, and purred: “ Mr, Figment, Tam proud of you. Your ‘Six Hours in a Sewer? is the sensation of the day, and is doing a great moral work. I have arranged with Rev. Mr. Howler—for a consideration —to take it as his text next Sunday, to show the connection between Politics and Sewers, in his great exposure scries, This week you will act as waiter in the Gastritis Club. [have squared the steward. They are wive-openers, and the possibilities for aman of your talent are great.” Turning to a group of underfed young men the editor said: “Gentlemen of the Yeilow Rot War College, you make me tired, You haven't scared Wall Street once this week, and patriots are beginning to thiuk this paper is published in Philadelphia. Things have got to move right off. Gore! Go over to Newark and send in an account of the assassination of General Lee for Fri- day afternoon. Pigeon! Find our special eye-witness of “ Ruthless Deeds in Uni sity Place,” and interview him on the crime and get photos of the weapon. Gull! Your IDENTITY. anybody should wake up, bit him on the Mr Noah: Vea, DEAR. I'LL COME AND FEED THE ANIMALS RIGHT AWAY. comicbooks.com