The Forrest City times., 1894-04-27
A REPORTERS STORY"
How George Stanton Made a Dis-
 covery in Newspaper Work

Write for the Times. Do you imag- Inc you went to college for that? You can't write"
 Have you ever given me the chance?"
 No. But 1 know you couldn't daresay you've been counting on doing this, eh?' The younger man bowed. And have been laying in stock of flowing rhetoric and fne-spun the ories," the elder continued. ''Humph. The Times wouldn't pay in a months time if we fed the public on stuff of that sort. What it wants is food of an- other kind
 Whats to prevent my providing it as well as the other writers on the staff? Is my college education to be draw back to me? If it is"
 The sentence was left unfinished, and the elder man silently returned to his work of glancing over some copy spread out on the desk before him. When he had finished the last page, he turned to the first and wrote ''m. E." across the top.
 What does that mean?" George Stanton inquired
 'Those letters stand for must go
 linen whatever bears them goes?'
 His uncle surveyed him with a grim smile lighting his face
 ''It's apt to-, he said, dryly
 Then any thing might write would be printed, regardless of its merit, if you so marked it?'
 Certainly. But you must remem- Der that an uncle indulgent to faults, and the proprietor of this paper-a suc- cessful business enterprise-are two distinct personalities"
 (Which you bear. understand. But surely literary merit cuts some tigure?"
 "Um-if the name of the writer who possesses it is well known, it does"
 Not otherwise?'
 The elder man shook his head em- phatically. live no use for 'em."
 "Why, that makes out the newspaper of to-day money-making machine of the lowest order George Stanton ex- claimed, indignantly. The brains of the concern are subservient. to the business office. "
 Exactly"
 There was pause, during which the younger man tipped back his char against the wall and gazed distracted ly at the ceiling. At length he brought the legs of the chair to the floor with emphasis.
 "I still maintain that it isn't fair that shouldn't be given trial" he remarked
 Il suppose you've got a batch ot manuscripts all ready to fire at me The nephew's face flushed. Il thought SO. We'll, don't want 'em. Now see here, what this paper wants isn't rhetoric, it isn't eloquence, 1t lsnt philosophy, it isn't literary merit, as you call tits just life-plain, every day life. I wouldn't publish the most beautiful flight of fancy that was ever written-Tve no use for that sort. But life-things near, local. personal-give me those. If you keep your eyes and ears open, you'll find more tragedy m one block of San Francisco than in the whole of Shakespeare.
 "Then you give me the chance?'
 Frederick Stanton hesitated. Its open to you the same as 1t Is to all, he replied indifferently; you would be paid for space-work at our regular rates. providing we accepted it. Mind vou. I don't say I'll take what you write.
 .Bnt if it suits, you'll m g. it?'
 "If it suits" the other repeated, little sarcastically, with movement which closed the interview.
 A week later the young man agaln presented himself in his uncle's private office
 five followed your advice. Uncle Fred. and taken life for my suoJect He threw himself into chair and gave a twist to his head in the direction of