MAKING YOUR

CAMERA PAY

By

FREDERICK C. DAVIS

NEW YORK
ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY
1922

Copyright, 1921, 1922
Photo-Era Magazine

Copyright, 1922, by
Robert M. McBride & Co.

Printed in the
United States of America

Published, 1922

A WORD BEFORE

The demand of publishers for good pictures is increasing. Editors are eager to use the best photographs that may be obtained. They draw no distinction between the work of the amateur and that of the professional photographer. If a photograph meets their requirements, they buy it and care little whence it comes. The opportunity to sell good pictures has never been better than it is to-day.

To give accurate and helpful information with regard to making the camera a profitable investment is the purpose of this book.

Frederick C. Davis is well-known to readers of photographic magazines, and is a practical photographer in addition to being a successful and experienced professional writer. Mr. Davis has written this monograph in a non-technical style that will entertain the reader and encourage him to make the most of photography.

This little book is a practical, up-to-the-minute answer to the question: "How can I make my camera-work profitable?"

A. H. Beardsley,
Publisher, Photo-Era Magazine.

CONTENTS

MAKING YOUR CAMERA PAY

I

WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

Whence come the thousands of photographs used every month by newspapers and magazines?

More than that, whence do the photographs come which are used by makers of calendars, postcards, for advertisements, and for illustrating books, stories and articles?

At first thought, the answer is, "From professional photographers and publisher-photo-services." But professional photographers do not produce one-third of the photographs used, and publisher-photo-services are supplied by that same large number of camerists that supply publications with most of their prints.

No one can deny that the greatest number of prints published are bought from amateur photographers in towns no larger than the average, and sometimes smaller.

The camerist does not have to get in an air-ship and fly to Africa in order to produce photographs that will sell. Read what Waldon Fawcett says, himself a success at selling his photographs:

"The photographer is apt to think that all his ambitions would be realised if only he could journey to foreign shores or to distant corners of our country; or if he could attend the spectacular events that focus the attention of the world now and then. This is a delusion. The real triumph is that of the photographer who utilises the material ready at hand in his own district, be it large or small."

And more, a person does not have to be an expert photographer in order to succeed at the work. Here is what one prominent writer says about it:

"The requirements of the field are well within the capabilities of even the beginner in photography, viz.; the ability to make good negatives and good prints, the ability to recognise news-value, and a methodical plan to find the market where the prints will find acceptance. The man or woman who can meet these requirements should be fairly successful from the beginning, and will open up quickly new avenues of special work and profit."

In short, ability to make metaphors, create lovely heroines or such is not at all necessary to the successful selling of photographs to publications.

Is the field overcrowded? No. If there were ten times as many persons engaged in the work they could all keep themselves busy.

The field—how wide is it? Get out your map of the world. The field for making photographs extends from the top margin to the bottom, and from the left to the right. The field for selling photographs—which is more to the point—extends over about five thousand publications which use prints; not to speak of a few score of other markets.

The markets may be classified briefly:

• (1) Newspapers
• (2) Magazines
• (3) Postcard-makers
• (4) Calendar-makers
• (5) Art-study producers
• (6) Illustrations for books
• (7) Illustrations for articles
• (8) Prints for advertising.

And there are more, of more specialised branches.

And how does it pay? Please note: "A certain magazine once paid $100 for four prints of sundials. An amateur, who happened to be on the spot with a kodak, made over $200 out of a head-on railroad-collision. A New York professional netted $125 from the newspaper-use of a wedding-party, of considerable local prominence, which was leaving the church after the ceremony." One amateur "realised $300 a year for two or three years from a lucky snapshot of eight pet rabbits in a row."

A set of South-Pole photographs brought $3,000 from Leslie's and $1,000 more from the International Feature Service. These all, though, are very exceptional instances. The average print sells for about three dollars. But there is absolutely nothing in the world to hinder a wide-awake person with a camera from making from several hundred to over $3,000 a year from his prints. If he becomes a specialist he may earn as high as $5,000 or even more.

No discrimination is made between press-photographers. The person wins who "delivers the goods."

However, I do not mean that the instances of $200 or so for prints should be taken as the prices ordinarily paid. I do not maintain that there is a fortune awaiting the man with the camera; but I do say there are unlimited possibilities for salable photographs and almost an unlimited number of markets for them. But there are not "barrels of money" in it, for all. A person may add appreciably to his income for having sold photographs; and having developed the trade to a high degree, he may cash cheques to the amount of $5,000 or more a year. But not every one. Just some. And it isn't like the log and the falling off it. It's work—hard work—hard work.

Success at selling press-photographs does not depend on the size of the town you live in, the cost or manufacture of your apparatus, or on your literary ability. It depends on you and your worship of the homaged gods of success if you would sell photographs. The gift of these gods is the ability to make good.

II

THE TOOLS OF THE TRADE

Have you ever wakened in the drear dead of a dismal night, possessed body and soul with a great desire—an incontrollable, all-moving, all-consuming, maddening desire that knows no satisfaction—a desire for a new camera or a better lens? It is a sensation more disconcerting than that of the father who is detected by his small son in the act of rifling the latter's bank for car-fare. Never would I be so unwise as to cultivate that desire in any one; for that reason I do not here go deeply into a discussion of the best kind of camera for press-photography! Unless the camera you now possess is of a hopelessly mediocre grade, it will do very well.

A reflex camera is of course the ideal instrument for the purpose, for sharp focusing is so easy and so necessary. The high speeds of the focal-plane shutter incorporated into such a camera will rarely be utilised by the average user; but its other features are admirable.

However, the hand-camera of the folding type is supreme. It is so light it can be carried for a long time without fatigue; the user of one is inconspicuous when making exposures; the cost of operation as well as the original outlay is comparatively small—and there are several dozen more things in favor of it, including its greater depth-of-field, which is most important.

The lens is the heart of the camera, and some cameras have "heart-trouble." If you intend seriously to market photographs you should possess an anastigmat lens; not necessarily an F/4.5 lens, nor even an F/6.3 lens if too expensive; in that case an F/7.5 lens will do very well. An F/7.5 anastigmat is slightly slower than a rapid-rectilinear of U.S.4 aperture; but its excellence lies in its ability—as with all anastigmats—to form images of razor-edge sharpness, which is a prime requisite of a print intended to grace a page of a periodical. A rapid-rectilinear lens will do very well if you are always assured of sunshine or bright clouds to supply exposure-light—and in such conditions even the lowly single-achromatic lens will suffice.

Now you see I have agreed that virtually any lens that will form a sharp image will meet the requirements. Indeed, to paraphrase Lincoln: "For the sort of thing a lens is intended to do, I would say it is just the lens to do it." In other words, each lens has its limitations and abilities very sharply defined; and these limits the user must know and appreciate.

And the shutter; it is folly to put a poor lens in a good shutter, and just as absurd to do the opposite. An expensive shutter with high speeds cannot be successfully used except with a lens capable of large aperture—otherwise underexposure will result. A speed of 1/300 second is the highest available in an ordinary between-the-lens shutter, and that is sufficient for almost anything.

The slower speeds, as one-fifth, one-half and one second are in my opinion more usable than the extremely fast ones. Speeds varying from one second to 1/300 second are embodied in two well-known shutters: the Optimo and the Ilex Acme. The one is on a par with the other. But no such high-grade shutter is needed unless the high speeds are necessary to the user, for the slower speeds may be given with the indicator at B. But enough! This is not a manual on the elements of photography.

The requirements of the apparatus to be used for press-photography are that the lens produce a sharp and clear image, the shutter work accurately, and the whole be brought into play quickly.

I have used every sort of camera; reflex, 8 × 10 view, 5 × 7 view, hand-cameras with anastigmat, rapid-rectilinear and single lenses, and box-cameras, and they are all entirely satisfactory "for the things they were intended to do."

The camera I have used most and which is my favorite is a Folding Kodak, that makes 3¼ by 4¼ photographs, and is equipped with an Ilex Anastigmat working at F/6.3, in an Ilex Acme shutter. To this I have added a direct-view finder for reasons apparent to any one who has tried to photograph high-speed subjects by peeking into the little reflecting-finder. This camera has served me admirably for interiors, flashlights, outdoors, high-speed work, portraiture, and anything else to which I have applied it. Your own camera should do the same for you.

A photographer comes to know his camera as a mother knows her baby—and if he doesn't he will be no more successful than the mother who does not understand her child. The camera-worker must forget all about manufacturers' claims and should judge his tool by experience; he must ignore most of the theory and rely wholly on practice. In short, he must know his camera inside and out, what it will do and what it will not do; everything must be at his finger-tips ready for instant use. Coupled with that is the need of the ability to produce, sometimes, within an hour after making the exposure, crisp, sharp, sparkling prints.

After all, no more qualifications are required of the press-photographer than of most other photographers. He may have to work like lightning, snap his shutter literally under the very hoofs of racing-horses, rush out of a warm and cozy bed into a chill and bleak night—but "it's all in the game." If any one of the old veteran press-photographers were to lead the life of an ordinary business-man, he would die of ennui. When the camerist makes photographs for publishers it is zip-dash—and later, cash.

It is the exciting life of a never-sleep reporter, with a camera to manage instead of a pencil.

III

WHAT TO PHOTOGRAPH

If you wish immediate wealth you have only to locate several oil-pockets and dig into them. Similarly, if you aspire to success at marketing photographs you have only to discover the needs of editors and to satisfy them. But although there are not many more available oil-pockets, there are many editors and innumerable editorial needs.

It would be as absurd for me to attempt to state precisely what you should photograph as it would be for me to make a pencil-dot on a map and to say: "There's an oil-pocket; go dig into it." The one way to discover the needs of editors and how to satisfy them is to develop a "nose for news."

A "nose for news" is simply the ability to determine the value of any certain photograph to any certain editor. The several ways of acquiring that very necessary ability are: (a) by experience, which consumes the most time and is the most difficult; (b) by examining the nature of photographs already sold to publications and printed in them, which is less difficult and just as effective; and (c) by careful study of prevailing editorial needs and market-demands, which is the best method of all.

To succeed, mix thoroughly liberal quantities of (a), (b) and (c).

Not many, other than the large metropolitan newspapers, employ staff-photographers; and if a smaller one does, the photographer is usually a reporter who has much scribbling to do besides. When most newspapers require a photograph of something local, the city-editor telephones to a commercial-photographer and tells him to "get it." Thereupon, the commercial-photographer packs up his forty-pound outfit, goes out and gets it.

However, a good many subjects are not of sufficient interest to cause the city-editor to dispatch a commercial-photographer to obtain them; but, if photographs of those same subjects were brought unsolicited to him he would at once see their value and buy them. That is the biggest advantage of the free-lance photographer with the newspapers.

If the press-photographer wishes to follow these tactics he may profit, even in a very large city; for staff-photographers go where city-editors tell them to go, and city-editors have much to think about.

The kinds of subjects bought by newspapers from free-lance photographers are those of local interest, brought to the office while the interest in them is still keen. A large number of such subjects are available daily. The news-photographer may glean his tips from a morning-newspaper and sell his prints to an evening-journal. When he becomes sufficiently well known, he may be called upon and dispatched after a photograph just as the commercial-photographer. But first he must impress the editorial mind by giving it, unasked, the very sort of thing it wants.

The free-lance photographer should see possibilities in many subjects:

• A public building burns.
• A corner-stone is laid.
• An illicit still is found.
• A new building is erected.
• A murder occurs.
• A new fire-department truck is bought.
• The governor comes to town.
• Josh Jones finds a hen's egg three-times normal size.
• A park is improved.
• The first baseball-game is played.
• The robber of the postoffice is caught.
• I. Wright, the local author's new book, is published.
• The local inventor again invents.

Any one of these suggestions holds possibilities for photographs useful to a newspaper; and many more events are just as promising.

The types of photographs used by postcard-makers are known to almost every one. The subjects run from famous buildings and historical monuments to artistic human-interest pictures such as a small kitten sleeping with its feet entangled in a maze of thread with which it has been playing.

At that point, merge the demands of the calendar-makers. They use the human-interest type, and run to landscapes, seascapes, and portraits of pretty girls. Usually the demand of both postcard- and calendar-makers is that the picture tell a story. If it can be used without an explanatory caption, all the better. For an example of a picture-told story, glance at almost any cover of the Saturday Evening Post and note how the whole situation is made clear without one word of explanation. It is that kind of photograph that postcard- and calendar-makers want. If you will glance over the postcard- and calendar-illustrations you have at hand you will readily see the types of photograph used.

Sometimes book-publishers send out calls for special kinds of photographs they need in preparing certain books. In that case, they usually advertise in an appropriate magazine and mention the kind of photograph they wish; for example, historical prints if a history is in preparation. The unlimited variety of books published calls for an unlimited variety of photographs. Certain publisher-photo-services make it their business to supply publishers with the photographs they wish; but that is not hurtful to the prospects of the free-lance, for the photo-services must obtain photographs of every kind from every source, and must be stocked with a larger number and variety of prints than any one magazine or publisher could possibly use. Thus, in fact, the news-photographer has an increased market.

The largest field for the free-lance photographer I have left until last; that is, the magazines. There are so many magazines and such a variety of them that almost any print, if it is of interest at all, should find a place with one of them. Besides the large magazines there are many smaller ones; those devoted to almost any conceivable vocation, and others to almost any interest or hobby.

Besides the publications issued for the great mass of the reading public, there are magazines published solely for advertisers, architects, real-estate agents, automobilists, bakers, confectioners, cement-users, drug-stores, dry-goods merchants, electricians, engineers, miners, bankers, financiers, fraternal members, furniture-dealers, millers, grocers, hardware-sellers, historians, hotel-owners, owners of restaurants, jewelers, labor-union members, lawyers, insurance-agents, soldiers, sailors, municipal workers, printers, publishers, railroad men, magicians, fox-raisers, blacksmiths, fruit-growers, undertakers, stamp-collectors, and scores of others, not to speak of almost two thousand house-organs issued by manufacturers as sales-promotion literature or for the benefit of their employees. And each of these uses photographs occasionally, if not regularly. The photographer need not deplore a lack of sufficient markets for his photographs.

The greatest influence toward the development of a "nose for news" is the giving to it of several whiffs of news. A photographer may "shoot"—a professional photographer never photographs—he shoots—he may shoot and shoot, and have his every photograph returned to him as useless for publication—but not if he first discovers what to photograph and what not to photograph.

As a means toward that end I have selected, at random, issues of three magazines whose pictorial sections contain prints which are, broadly, just the sort of photographs the photographer in a medium-size town produces. The magazines are Popular Science, Illustrated World, and Popular Mechanics; despite their names, these magazines print photographs of a very general scope—more general than one would suppose. I have selected only photographs with short captions, or those with explanatory articles not more than two hundred or so words in length.

In Popular Science I find:

• An Apartment-House for Plants.
• A Hospital on Wheels.
• Potato-Gathering Made Easy.
• This Rudder Makes the Boat Behave.
• New Light for the Photographer.
• He Wears a Showcase.
• A Rubber Heel with a Noise.
• Milking Cows by Electricity.
• Anchoring Bricks to the Side of a House.
• Sketching on Fungus, One Artist's Hobby.
• Sampling the Soil.
• Making House-Wrecking Easy.
• A Machine that Harvests Crimson Clover Seed.
• Wheel-Guards that Save Life.
• Working Safely on High Voltage Lines.
• A Lake that has a Crust of Salt.
• Punching Your Votes.
• Your Money is Safe in this Bank-Tank.

In Illustrated World:

• Motorized Wheel-Chair for Invalids.
• Whirr of Motors Replaces Song of Cotton-Pickers.
• How Aristocrats of Dogdom Travel.
• Perform Marriage-Ceremony in Oil-Filling Station.
• Rail Motor-Trucks for Short-Line Road's Use.
• No More Backaches from the Lawn-Mower.
• Novel Arrangement of Air-Hose for Work-Benches.
• Largest Milk-Tank in the World.
• Comfortable Footrest for a Rustic Seat.
• Dog Hurt in Auto Accident Wears Wooden Leg.
• Street-Cars Adopt "Pay-As-You-Leave" System.
• Dentists' Scales for Weighing Mercury.
• Toy Makes Spelling Easy for Kiddies.
• Small Check-Book in Silver-Case.
• Nine-Story Building Collapses.
• Traveling Mail-Box on Interurban Car.
• Clever Method of Advertising Perfume.
• Makes Suit Out of Stamps.
• Wellesley Girls Have a "Sneezing Closet."
• Raising Chickens on a Back Porch.

In Popular Mechanics:

• Owner of Artificial Hands is Proud of Dexterity.
• Imperishable Burial Robes Shown on Living Models.
• Novelty Window-Sign Spells Words with Snowflakes.
• Imposing New Bridge at Jacksonville.
• Street-Sign Calls for Help if Robbers Invade Store.
• New Style Log-Cabin Built Like Stockade.
• Vines Completely Cover Office-Building.
• Beautiful Ice Stalagmites are Pranks of Jack Frost.
• Unique Wood-Sculptures are Work of a Decade.
• Electric Warehouse-Truck Performs Heavy Tasks.
• Hydraulic Jack Tears Up Street-Car Tracks.
• Man-Power Onion-Planter Sets an Acre a Day.
• Grotesque Images Reward Motor-Cycle Race Winners.
• Weak Derrick Starts Work of Steel-Building.
• Concrete Logging Piers are Used in Lumber-Industry.
• World's Largest Clock Keeps Accurate Time.
• Grotesque Face on Auto Advertises Carnival.
• River-Bed Proves to be a Rich Coal-Mine.
• Outlets of Odd Shapes Made for Irrigation.
• Unusual Park-Playground Built in Circus-Form.
• Giant Vase, Lawn-Ornament, is Made of Concrete.
• Old Silo in Railroad-Yard Houses Little Store.
• Street Rises so Abruptly Four Flights of Steps are Necessary.
• Church Uses Bill-Board to "Sell" Scriptures.

This wide variety of subjects cannot but serve to show that even in very small towns there are many opportunities for salable pictures. More than that, there are markets for prints of:

If you live in a large city you have the additional opportunities to obtain photographs such as are published in the Mid-Week Pictorial and the Illustrated Review, and also in some of the large national magazines and in the rotogravure-sections of the leading Sunday newspapers. Although the large city offers more opportunities for photographs of celebrities and such, there is much competition. The photographer in an average-size city may not have frequent opportunities for photographs of renowned persons; but he has many other chances for salable photographs, which evens up things.

Sometimes, a notable person does come to town; but I would no more presume to tell you here to camp on his trail than I would dare to remark to a duck-hunter: "Pardon me, old man, but you'd better pull your trigger. There's a bird right where you've pointed your gun."

IV

WHAT NOT TO PHOTOGRAPH

Knowing what to photograph is no more important than knowing what not to photograph. I cannot show you so easily by example the kind of photographs editors will not buy; for a search of any number of magazines will fail to unearth such examples.

Experience is an expensive school; but, sometimes, the others are closed because of lack of patronage. It would seem that when you learn what to photograph you should learn automatically what not to photograph; and, indeed, you should; but you don't. However, there is another way. After sending a photograph to a score of publications, and after the photograph is returned from the same score of publications, you may truthfully say: "Well, I've discovered one thing that those editors don't want."

Editors have very clear reasons why they don't buy certain kinds of photographs. The editor is there to produce a live, newsy, unusual publication. He buys only live, newsy, unusual photographs. What could be simpler?

Publications do not want photographs which are similar to other photographs that they have already printed. The reason is obvious. To take an example from my own early days: a shoe-dealer, for an advertisement, placed a huge pair of shoes, size 35, in his window. I grasped the opportunity to make a salable photograph. It did sell; but not to Popular Mechanics, for the editor wrote that he was unable to use it because he had printed, several months before, a picture of a huge pair of shoes made for a circus sideshow worker. Consequently, the subject of your photograph may be just the thing the editor would want if he hadn't had his requirements already satisfied. Therefore, study those photographs which have been printed, and make newer and better ones.

When the King of England comes to town, it may be all very well to command him to stand still, to look serious or to smile, for a picture of him so posed may be literally "eaten up" by the local newspapers; but a national weekly, such as Collier's, demands something different. Posed photographs are at a discount. They are too plainly "pictures of men having their pictures made." What is wanted are life and action. It isn't necessary to ask the King to stand on his head. Ask him to shake hands with the Chief-of-Police; or let him do something else which shows he has the power of action.

On an invaluable rejection-slip prepared by a national magazine, examples are given of "What we want and don't want." Under a photograph of Senator Johnson with upraised fist, as if he were driving home a point in his speech, is printed: "Here the upraised fist does the business—makes action, life—and transforms what would otherwise be just an ordinary likeness of Senator Johnson into a striking and arresting picture."

But if a photograph is sufficiently unusual it may be without life and yet may sell, although it gains materially by a show of action. Under a photograph of a floating submarine, the rejection-slip notes: "No action here; but it is safe to say that few of the readers of this magazine skipped this one when it appeared. Submarines are common today; but not the kind that carry huge twelve-inch guns." Similarly under a photograph of three men standing in a row and looking with a "where's-the-birdie?" expression at the camera, the caption is: "A posed picture and, as is usual in such circumstances, a dead one. We used it because a story centering around these men was a singularly interesting one appealing to a large audience in America." But no matter how extraordinary a photograph is, it gains a hundred-fold by exhibiting signs of life.

True, a "dead" picture may sell; but a live one will sell more quickly, and the photographer's work will be more in demand, and the resulting cheque will be larger—much larger.

If you make a photograph of a building—even for instance, a new arsenal—you will never sell it to such a publication as the New York Times roto-section. The rejection-slip says, under such a picture: "There isn't even a human being in it to relieve the severity of the building's hard lines and the flat expanse of water. We do not care for such pictures." True, a photograph of a building—and of a building only—may sell for a few dollars to an architectural magazine; but more dollars and a bigger future come from putting life into photographs and in getting your work into the national weeklies as a result.

Again, no magazine wishes to buy a photograph of something not new. A monument, if photographed a moment after the unveiling and with the crowd around it, is a likely seller; but if the photographer waits several years, a print of the monument is unsalable. And that is not strange: you prefer fresh to cold-storage eggs.

The big secret of the successful press-photographer is the introduction of human beings into his photographs of inanimate objects. Human beings have a deep interest in each other. When one is introduced into a picture, human-interest is introduced at the same time; and, if the human being is pictured in the act of doing something, the interest is even higher. For no one ever outgrows the question, "What ya doin', mister?"

Popular Science Monthly says: "We want good, clear photographs of a human being doing something of a mechanical nature. The subjects must be new." If a new invention is pictured alone, it is lifeless and meaningless. But let a human being operate it and a photograph of it gains in value.

One has only to apply his common sense to the matter. If a murder is committed in the city, the newspapers will not demand photographs of the corpse; it will do very well to obtain a photograph of the "arrow-points-to-the-scene-of-the-crime" variety.

One has to depend wholly on his "nose for news" and this sometimes proves treacherous. "A human-interest photograph sometimes slips past the trained nose of a photographer of twenty years' experience and is picked up by a beginner," to paraphrase Charles Phelps Cushing. And, on the other hand, the old-timer may snap away confidently at a subject which the beginner has scorned, and then find he has an unsalable print on his hands. Sometimes, so to say, "noses for news" contract colds and are unable to scent a subject's salability. But colds may be cured and the scents picked up once more. The best remedy is to stop, to think, and to sniff again.

There is a market somewhere for every good print. There is no market anywhere for a print that is not good.

The best part of the whole business is this: no one—not even old Nick himself—can induce an editor to buy a photograph he does not want; and if, on the other hand, he knows he can use it, he will buy it at once, be it offered by Donald Thompson, who is a world-famed press-photographer, or by John Brown of Smithville, whose first attempt it may be.

V

SIZE, SHAPE AND FORM

Aspiring fictionists learn at some stage of their budding genius that one long stride toward editorial favor lies in the proper preparation of the manuscript. Just so, a photograph which is not prepared in accordance with editorial standards suffers a handicap.

Some editors specify the size of photograph they prefer. Thus, Collier's prefers 4 × 5 prints; but it will use prints larger, and a few smaller than that size. In the same way, Garden Magazine reports that it prefers 6½ × 8½ prints, and the Thompson Art Company says it prefers the 5 × 7 or 8 × 10 size.

Other magazines make no mention of size. Popular Mechanics reports: "The size of the print is not so important as clearness and gloss." Indeed, the greater number of magazines do not specify a preferable size because by so doing they discourage contributors of prints which are desirable, but not of the size specified.

If a magazine insists on having prints of one certain size the photographer should not be discouraged because his camera does not make photographs of those dimensions. The making of enlargements is now no more difficult than the making of contact-prints; if the negative is sharply focused and the lens of the enlarging-machine is good, an enlargement will not differ much in quality from a small print.

To me, it seems that the ideal camera makes photographs of 3¼ x 4¼ inches. This is very slightly smaller than 4 × 5, and a less costly "film-eater." Negatives of that size are sufficiently large to make salable prints without enlarging them, and if a larger print is desired, they are of good proportions for the operation of enlarging. Prints of the 2¼ × 3¼ size are too small to offer to magazines unless the subjects are all-commanding; however, the size is a very good one, and not too small for the making of excellent enlargements if the lens of the camera is good. I have heard of one photographer who uses exclusively a vest-pocket camera equipped with a fast anastigmat lens: he never attempts to market any of the small prints, whose size is 1-5/8 × 2½, but enlarges the prints to about 4 × 6. There are many advantages possessed by the small camera over the large camera; but 3¼ × 4¼ is the happy medium. I have never had a print of that size returned because it was too small.

There is no need to limit one's self to the production of prints of only standard dimensions. In the cases of magazines desiring artistic prints, the prints gain materially by trimming them so as to produce a compositional balance of masses. Also, some buyers specify prints of a certain shape for use as covers and headings, to fit frame-cuts and such. These buyers state their specifications, as "prints size 4 × 6, with the long edges horizontal," or the opposite. It is not necessary to produce prints trimmed to the exact size of the cover, either; all that is necessary is to make the print of the same proportions as the cover, and the engraver will enlarge or reduce it to the correct size.

There is one best finish for prints intended for publication: that is, black-and-white—never sepia—and glossy, burnished. Glossy prints are not much more difficult to make than dull-surfaced prints, the only necessary additional effort being the use of a squeegee plate, or ferrotype plate. The preference for glossy prints results from the fact that their surfaces are absolutely smooth and without grain. This enables the engraver to make a clearer halftone, for a print with a grained surface reproduces surface and all in the cut.

Glossy paper, when dried in the ordinary way, has a surface which is perfectly smooth, yet half-dull. When glossy prints are dried in contact with a ferrotype plate the surfaces are highly polished, and this gives the prints more brilliancy. Prints so prepared are ideal for reproduction-purposes.

Newspapers, as well as some moderate-priced magazines printed on news-print paper, and printed at high speed, require coarse-screened cuts; in these, fancy lighting is detrimental, and fine details are lost; what is wanted are broad masses of light and shade.

Some editors prefer prints which are untrimmed and printed to the very edges of the negative. Such prints give the editor opportunities to trim the prints as he pleases. And in the case of simple news-photographs and ones which have no claim to artistic consideration, it seems to be the preferable method of submission. Certainly, editors will not object to such prints, and they may welcome them in preference to trimmed ones.

Single-weight paper is always preferable to double-weight, even in the larger sizes.

Prints must be sharply focused and distinct—not "fuzzy."

A contrasty print is sometimes recommended as the best to offer; but that is a mistake. The photo-engraver wants prints with plenty of detail in the shadows, and with a tendency to softness; but with not a vestige of flatness. "In the making of the screen-negative and in the various steps of etching, he—the engraver—can introduce highlights into a rather soft subject; but he cannot produce detail in harsh lights and shadows," declares Photo-Era Magazine. The process of halftone-making has developed so that the reproduction can be made almost indistinguishable from the original. In any event, make the best print possible—a normal and truthful representation.

Having produced your print, add your name and address to the back of it, and then write, in pencil and on a hard surface, the caption that should be placed under the photograph when it is printed.

Some editors decry the practice of writing the caption on the back of the print; for the print goes to the engraver and the copy for the caption goes to the printer. The alternative is to write the caption on a slip of paper which should be pasted by one end to the back of the print. In any case the photographer's name and address should be stamped on the back.

An ideal print for reproduction and publication, then, should be:

Not smaller than 3¼ × 4¼ inches; on single-weight glossy paper, burnished; very sharp; not contrasty or flat; correct proportions if necessary; untrimmed, if preferred; name and address on back; caption plainly written on back, or on an attached slip.

Prints passing this examination are ready to be shipped to market.