Telegram-herald. ([Grand Rapids, Mich.) 18??-1892, 1891-05-24
SECRET OF A REPORTER
Why a Brilliant Writer Never
Asplred ID Greatness
HIS AMBITION VAS STIFLEDBYDE DEATH
He Carried Ever with n .m the Image Of
one Whom ne Loved and Rsfasea 10
be Confsried By Another Until has
own Eyes Were Closed ln Death


The scene is the coy interior OF the
Press Club rooms of one of the larger
Eastern cities. The last form had gone
down and some of the reporters had
dropped IN for juicy steak and a glass
OF beer before getting sleep enough to
last another days grind. There were
half 3 dozen of them, mostly young
fellows, but among them was a reporter
known among the 'press gang as Old
Fox. His name spelled out was James
Fox, but Old Fox some way or other
seemed TO suit him better, for it seemed
in word to epitomizs his character.
He was q queer one. Talented, edu-
Gated, he ~as man who mightha been
= luminary but for his don't care spirit,
that would never allow him to accept
positions of higher responsibility than
that of reporter. lie WAS satisfied
with that. lie had q wonderful "nose
for news" and scoops" were more
frequent with him than with any other
man on the city press. Ii was that per-
haps more than anything else that
caused him 10 be referred to most often
as "Oid Fox"
The fellows at the club sat around .
table with foamlng mugs OF beer IN
their hands nibbllng at sandwiches.
They had talked of the races, the days
sensations and scoops" and gradually
they had drIfted into stories. Old Fox
seemed to be in laxative mood some
thing unusual with him. A remark
| about how many years he had been
showing the pencil seemed to put him
into a reminiscent frame OF mind, and
almost lnstinctlvely the fellows knew
that he was gong to tell his story. They
awaited with some curiosity to see what
it would be.
He Tells HIS Story.
"Let me see," said he, as he set down
his mug and lighted his cigar "Pve
been at it-pntf, puff-a good deal
longer-puff-than most of the boys
puff, putf-that's u fact. Did / ever
tell you how began reporting? 1t was
when was good deal of kid. was
II or p, guess. Had just gotten out
of Yale, class of 80. Didn't know
was wearer Of the blue, did you?
'My chum. member of my society,
In the senior year, was Southerner
and rafting good fellow. His father
ran q blanket sheet down in Charles
ton. My chum's name was Billy
! Billy BrOwnell. He was year older
than l aud a tall, lght-haired, cool
headed fellow. l spent several vaca-
tons with him, and naturally enough
fell in love with his sister Fanny. Yes,
4 kS<>xv <.fI IA
need to tell you anything more about
1t, only If You want to know what
Fanny looked like, l never could tell
you. She was like Billy and yet she
wasn't. She was tall and graceful like
him. but took after her father in the ex-
preston of her brown eyes. She had
dark wayv hair. | didn't know what
wanted to DO when got out of college.
! didn't care about law; there were as
many starving lawyers then as
now. l couldn't endure medicine,
and when Blily's father asked ME how
I'd like to try reporting, it struck me
| almost as revelation. 1t had never
occurred to me before, but the idea
seemed TO fit all over. / was tckled
more, perhaps. as / see it now, because
! could be near Fanny. Billy went into
stick type before he went TO college, so
the phrases were not all new to me, and
l managed TO catch on 10 the tricks
quite readily. | was fascinated with
the work and my lot generally. You
may have guessed all tho rest of the
story, but, boys, / haven't let myself
think of 1t in years. Don't know why
should now. Yes, Fanny and | were TO
| no vNQrrfnd nd Nc ho A
any young lovers you ever wrote about
We were TO be married in June, '6l
Lovely month
Sad Ending to Love.
"The story of the war is now old.
/ Brownell was hot rebel, and well,
boys, IN those days patriotism in young
blood made many young fellow leave
friends, home and sweethearts. Billyand
his father joined the Confederate army,
while Fanny and her mother moved To
the plantation. / became correspond
| ent for the New York Tribune.
Those were terrible days. and you'll
| never get chance IN this town TO get
up such string of thrilling news ~ we
! had to write then. Death was COM
| moner then than divorce cases with US.
What cared We TO see hundreds of
bodies cold? What terrible times we
used to have to get the news we wanted
and then in getting 1t IN. This police
| court, city hail, and other business
with telephone, telegraph, messenger
boys and all. makes most of the work
pretty soft nowadays. With us il was
hustle for every line Of important mat
ter.
"For three years I was at il and
never ut rest. One night went
out with a party of the boys 10
| forage. There were half q dozen OF
| us. We approached plantation horse.
1 and started into the chicken coops
| Suddenly, bang bang The bullets
! whlstled around ne, and We began n
! light out. Then | heard q voice that
thrilled me. II was Fanny Browneli'..
In spite of the firing, | turned about
and saw her IN the moonlight; ] saw
her there ss lovely as ever. Before
could prevent Il our fellows had re.
/ turned the fire, and | saw her fall.
| utterIug my name IN Wild cry. 20
boys | cant tell you any more shout
! H. DO you see how white my hair .,
though NY age does not warrant ii
DO you see this picture" pulling out a
faded dsguerreotype.
That's my story, bovs: and since
| then, don't care Tor anything elevated
IN life. Good fellowsh y among
/ intelligent fellows, daily grind
st my chosen profession, that's
| all | want. Guess I'll 60 %
| my rooms now You notlee sn
old bachelor never goes home; its a.
1 ways "a his rooms.
flta Env thrx~ srav 80 escs, EoDr