Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1923-02-14
GETTING OUT THE PAPER
AND THE NEXT DAY AFTER
IOWA FALLS CITIZEN :


after has charms of its own. You are
rather headweary, nerve-weary, and
leg-weary from the weekly roundup
Of getting out the paper. You drag
your weary bones over to the office
little late on the morning of the day
after.
The floors are unswept and covered
with a thousand things Somebody in
the hurry of preparing the meal has
scattered the skillets and kettles and
pans and spoons in every corner Of
the kitchen. Why scold? That which
cannot be helped must be endured.
The machinery must be cleaned and
overhauled for the next heat in the
ever-recurring race. Newspapering is
high-tension business that waits not
for broken parts, slovenly methods
and ne'er-do-wellism.
Bang goes the phone, and you gath
er yourself together. Whats the
condition of the buggy that Hans Jer-
genson is advertising?" "You don't
know? Humph, don't you know what's
in your own paper" You return to
the ceaseless grind. In comes Hurry
the Other Fellow. rs my job of
printing done?' No, you meekly re-
ply, but we will get it out right away.
That job was brought in the day be-
fore, but Mr. Hurry the Other Fellow
has procrastinated for month and
the printer is the goat. No matter,
dozen other fellows have been prOmis'
ed jobs on the day after, and the
printer, through force of circumstance
es, has become just as cheerful a liar
as the cobbler and the plumber.
Well, there goes the phone again.
what kind of woman is that adver-
Using for kitchen work in the after
noon?" why, don't you know?
These editors are certainly numb
skulls" You return again to the
tanning of the printing shrew, and
while you labor with intricate ma
chinery Mr. Crouch and Mr.. Grumbler
meet over on the street around the
corner. Did you see that piece in the
paper? Did you ever know that editor
to be right in anything?" Of course,
they knew To do their work proper
ly and successfully is very difficult,
but anybody can run newspaper,
1857 persons in a town of 1000 could
do it and please everybody.
Well, there are those promised jobs
ing? In comes a fellow who is rather
ugly. Some rural correspondent has
a tWo-line item that reflects on him
| will make him hard to catch" You
apologize the best you can and pour
oil on the waters, and then return to
battle with the letters.
There goes the phone again.
whats the matter with you folks
We didn't get our paper. Are you
afraid that we will not pay for it?"
You talk nice and say that you will
mail them a copy at once. Before you
get back to the grease and ink in
comes Mr.. Affable, in all very lika
BILE gentleman. Say, that was good
article you had in the paper this week,
right to the point" Things look
brighter, you swell up a little, and
take on some of the attributes of a
toad.
A boy is hurt in drunken brawl.
Some mention of it finds its way into
the newspaper No word is heard
over the phone or in anyway. There
is no complaint. Still the editor,
grinding on, fingers on the scene with
a feeling of sorrow. Back of every
boy is a mother, and over there in a
little home she is silently bearing her
grief.
The day drags on. You go to lunch
and meet an acquaintance that gives
you a cold freezing look. You pass
on, wondering, perhaps, why. The nit
comes to you that you suggested that
some gambling not a dozen blocks
away should be suppressed. He is
propably one of the gamblers. Why
not? If not a gambler, then an actor
in some other questionable drama. He
puts on the shoe because it fits.
You return to the afternoon work.
Then the phone! why didn't you put
that piece in the paper | sent in?"
The last time l sent in some news a
name was misspelled." You patiently
explain that her news came in too
late, that a newspaper has dead line
and that, in handling half million or
more separate characters each week,
some mistakes will be made.
The afternoon drags on. The null
titudes find the day fast vanishing and
their work undone. They hurry with
their tasks, and the newspaper man
gets a rest. Night comes and he goes
home. One man has commended him
and a dozen have censured him. NO
matter, he is used to it, and rather
enjoys it. 1t keeps his blood circula-
ting, gives him new vim and determin-
alton, and makes the battle worth
while. There is pleasure in over
coming and laughing at obstacles.
1t is night Surely, the newspaper
man is approaching a haven of peace.
He sits around the evening fireplace,
busy as always, threshing his ex-
changes. Some one says: "How did
you get such miX-up in Mrs. Hilar-
ity's party item? You had the party
meet at the wrong place, your des-
cription of the color scheme was nom
senical, and it was Mrs. Lollipop's
party; Mrs. Hilarity and Mrs. Bird
ges assisted"
The shadows grow deeper and after
while utter darkness comes. Long
after the rest Of the world is soundly
sleeping, the newspaper man tolls on.
Finally in the wee hours, he goes to
bed. Next morning, with the lark, he