The Dickinson press. (Dickinson, Stark County, D.T. [i.e. N.D.]) 1883-1927, 1890-11-08
Mr.. WILSON'S TWO COLUMNS.
A Frishtral Railroad Accident, and
Shallow Rovm Rr4u~r Nha Na,r.


'Mr. Wilson, how soon can you get
ready to start for H, nlinois?'
"In an hour, SIR"
: This conversation took place in the
Office Of The New York Chronicle one
morning as the men ON the staff came to
receive their assignments. II the city
editor had asked Wilson how soon he
could get ready to start for Alaska he
would have received precisely the same
reply.
+ Edward Wilson hurried off to his
rooms. and hastily packing a few neces-
saries in valise reported back at the
Office In exactly an hour.
'He was paragon of a reporter" you
will say, 'this Wilson," But he was
merely an ordinary city staff reporter,
who, Ike thousands Of others on the big
dailies Of America, stand ready at an
hours notice to start for any part of the
world.
"This Illinois story will bring two COL
umns, even If I'm recalled Immediate
ly," he unused, ~ he ratified up to the
Grand Central station in hanson;
"two columns will bring my bank &C.
count up to 900, and 800 will bring the
wife and little one to New York" Will
son thought with delight how happy
they would be in his comfortable little
Lexington avenue fiat. It was a pleas
ant little day dream.
In fifteen minutes the Buffalo express,
bearing the newspaper man to his desti-
nation, rushed snorting out of the Har-
lem tunnel like another earth bound
Thor rejoicing at his freedom. Past the
end of Manhattan Island, past River
dale, Yonkers and all the lovely north
ern suburbs of the city, along the rolling
Hudson, past the muddy Mohawk, then
as night fell screaming past the little
hamlets sleeping under the hills of cen
trail New York, and on, on, on, to the
great lakes.
There was nothing in the car to inter.
est Wilson, and as the sun sank behind
the ripening wheat fields he dozed fit
fully, and waking would sleep again,
waking and sleeping by fitful starts and
wondering what 1t was that kept him in
vague but all the moro fearful terror.
Finally he slept, and it was while he
dreamed that terrible accident hap
pened. The trestle bridge over o swollen
creek, weakened by the rush of waters,
had given way under the advancing
train and 900 people were hurled into the
creek.
Three or four men hurriedly furnish,
ing late copy" A doing Office boy
waking every few minutes to glance al
the clock and long for o'clock and free.
dom. The night desks Uttered with
proof slips and "held over copy" Nc
sound but tho operator ticking "good
night" to his far off brothers and an oc.
casional shout Of "Copyi" from tho desk.
A tall fguro in a capped overcoat and
travelling cap enters the room, and 81.
lently walking up to tho night desk lays
some "copy" before the editor. The
men in tho Office bending over thei,
work do not see him pass; but the Office
boy, brushing his hat, yawns "Good
morning, Mr. Wilson," but the form
goes straight on.
Cant use this, Mr.. Wilson," !" says the
editor, looking at the clock. "why, It'll
l:5o. The papers going to press. What
is it anyway"
Eyes, by George, we will run it," he
continues excitedly. "Jim, stop the
presses"
Then to the operator, "Have you ar
accident ON the New York and Buffalo
yeti"
"No, SIR"
"How did you get it, Wilson,"
But the form had gone.
my Godl listen to this" says til,
sub-editor. "The accident must hav,
occurred at 1850 exactly. Among tn,
dead was Edward Wilson, reporter or
The New York Morning Chronicle
What was it then that brought this
copy in2"
II don't know" replied the editor in a
hushed voice. "Send the story up just
as it is. It runs exactly two columns. u
New York Tribune.