The combination of dead and injured makes a good beginning, and it is always advisable to begin with such an enumeration whenever it is possible. Where the features are not so significant as death and injuries the matter of arranging more than one striking detail at the beginning of the lead becomes a greater problem. It must be left to one's own judgment and common sense. The lead must not be too long or complicated, and one must hesitate before burying the really important facts of the story behind several lines of more or less unusual details. Just as soon as the lead becomes at all confusing take out the details and put them into the story later.

Back to contents

VII

FAULTS IN NEWS STORIES

Paragraph Length.—We have seen that newspaper writing has a characteristic style of its own. In the first place notice the length of a newspaper paragraph. Count the number of words in an average paragraph and compare it with the number of words in a literary paragraph. We find that the newspaper paragraph is much shorter. There is a reason for this. Imagine a 150-word literary paragraph set up in a newspaper. There are about seven words to the line in a newspaper column and one hundred and fifty words would make something over twenty lines. Try to picture a newspaper made up of twenty-line paragraphs; it would be extremely difficult to read. We glance over a newspaper hastily and our haste requires many breaks to help us in gathering the facts. Hence the paragraphs must be short; the very narrowness of the newspaper column causes them to be shortened. The average lead, you will find, contains less than fifty words and the paragraphs following it are not much longer.

Sentence Length.—Notice sentence lengths as compared with literary sentences. You will find that newspaper sentences usually fall into two classes: the sentences in the lead and the sentences in the body of the story. The first sentence is usually rather long—thirty to sixty words. But the sentences in the body of the story are much shorter than most literary sentences. Why is this? It results from exactly the same thing that makes the newspaper paragraphs short—the need of many breaks. Thus, after we finish a lead, we must fall into short sentences. They need not be choppy sentences, but they must be simple and easy to read.

THE LEAD AND THE BODY OF THE STORY

Our study of the fire story has shown that newspaper stories always have two separate and distinct parts: the lead and the body of the story. In writing the story a reporter must consider each part separately, although the reader does not distinguish between the two parts. Before writing a word the reporter must decide exactly what facts and details he is to put in the lead and exactly what fact he is going to play up in the first line, taking care to begin with the most interesting part of the story. After the lead is finished he writes the main body of the story in accordance with the rules of ordinary English composition. Each part must be separate and independent of the other.

The Lead.—The lead itself is always paragraphed separately. Usually it consists of a single sentence, although it is much better to break it into two than to make the sentence too long and complicated. As we have said before, the lead must not only tell the most interesting fact or incident in the story, but it must answer the natural questions that the reader immediately asks about this matter; i.e., when, where, what, why, who, and how. These questions must be answered briefly and concisely in their order of importance, and the most unusual answer or the most striking part of the story must precede all the rest. Beyond the answers to these questions there is no space for details in the lead. Every word must have a purpose and a necessary purpose or it must be cut out and relegated to the body of the story. No space should be given to explanations of minor importance. State the content of the news story as completely, accurately, and concisely as possible so that the reader may know just what happened, when it happened, where, to whom, and perhaps how and why it happened. Then begin a new paragraph and start the body of the story.

Many editors require that the lead consist of one long sentence and yet it must be grammatical. Many reporters forget all about English grammar in their attempt to crowd everything they know into one sentence. But mere quantity does not make the lead good; it must be grammatical and easy to read. The verb must have a grammatical subject and, if it is an active verb, it must have a grammatical predicate. Clauses and modifiers must be attached in a way that cannot be overlooked. Dangling participles and absolute constructions should be shunned. All of the modifying clauses must be gathered together either before or after the principal clause. Everything must be compact and logical. Many papers disregard this matter, as will be seen in some of the extracts quoted in this book, but the best papers do not.

Every lead should be so constructed that it may stand alone and be self-sufficient. Never should a reporter trust to headlines to enlighten his readers upon the meaning of the lead—the exact reverse of this must be true. The story is written first and the headlines are written from the facts contained in the lead—and usually by another man. In writing the lead disregard the existence of headlines, for many readers do not read them at all. This is but an amplification of the old rule of composition that any piece of writing should be independent of its title. The title may be lost, but the essay must be clear without it.

There are many ways of beginning a lead in order to embody the feature in the first line. At first glance the operation of putting the emphasis of a sentence at the beginning, rather than at the end, may seem difficult, but with a clear idea of the rules of dependence in English grammar a reporter may transpose any clause to the beginning and thus play up the content of the clause. For instance, in this lead,

the striking feature of the story is buried—we do not get the unusual picture of a little group of people shivering in the street during a blinding snowstorm while they watch their homes burn. A simple transposition of the while-clause puts the feature in the first line. Thus:

The lead is not perfect now; it might be greatly improved, but it is better than before.

A few of the possible beginnings for a lead are:

1. Noun.—The simplest beginning of a lead is of course the use of a noun as subject of the principal verb. For example, "Fire destroyed the residence of——" or "A flashlight setting fire to a lace curtain started a fire——" or "The Plaza Hotel had a few uncomfortable moments last night——" etc. The subject of the verb may of course have its modifiers—adjectives and phrases—but it should not be separated too widely from its verb. One point is to be noted in the use of a simple noun at the beginning; an article should not precede the noun if it can be avoided, for the very simple reason that an article is not worth the important space that it takes at the beginning of the lead. In the case of fire no article is necessary. In other cases it is usually possible to put in an adjective or some other word that will take the article's place. However, never begin a story like this: "Supreme Court of the United States decided——" or "Young man in evening dress was arrested last night——" or "House of John Smith was destroyed yesterday——". Obviously something is lacking and, if no other word will supply the lack, use the article, the or a. When the noun-beginning is used the reporter must never forget that two or more nouns, however different, if subject of the same verb, require a plural verb. The verb may be active or passive, whichever is more convenient, but rarely is the object of an active verb put first—simply because English cannot bear this transposition of subject and predicate.

2. Infinitive.—Other parts of speech aside from nouns may be subjects of verbs and so other parts of speech as subjects of the principal verb of the lead may be placed at the beginning of the lead. An infinitive with its object and modifier may occupy the first line as subject of the main verb; e.g.:

Here the infinitive "to rescue" and its object are the subject of the verb "was," and the construction is perfectly grammatical. Unfortunately the English language has another infinitive which very much resembles a present participle—the infinitive ending in -ing; e.g., rescuing. Without an article this part of speech must, of course, be used only as an adjective, but with an article it becomes an infinitive, to be treated as a noun; e.g., the rescuing of. It would be perfectly grammatical to begin the above lead in this way: "The rescuing of his own son ... was the work, etc." But it would be ungrammatical to begin it thus: "Rescuing his own son was the work, etc." For in the second case the word "rescuing," if used with an object, is not an infinitive but a participle, and must be used only as an adjective, thus: "Rescuing his own son, Fireman Casey performed his duty, etc.," or "In rescuing his own son, Fireman Casey performed his duty." The two uses should never be confused.

3. Clause.—Another expression that may be used as subject of the lead's principal verb is a clause—usually a that-clause. For instance, "That the entire wholesale district was not destroyed by fire last night is due to, etc." Here the that-clause is subject of the verb is and the expression is entirely grammatical as well as very useful as a beginning.

4. Prepositional Phrase.—When the feature of a story is an action rather than a thing, a noun can hardly be used to express it. Very often this lead may be handled by means of a prepositional phrase at the beginning. For example, one of the stories in the last chapter begins: "With her home on fire and with smoke swirling around her head, Mrs. John, etc." In this case the prepositional phrase modifies the subject and should not be far from it. Another variation of this is the prepositional phrase of time, modifying the verb; e.g., "During the wedding of Miss Mary Jones, last night, the house suddenly caught fire, etc." This beginning is effective if it is not overworked, but the reader should never be held back from the real facts of the story by a string of complicated phrases, intended to build up suspense.

5. Participial Phrase.—Very much like the prepositional phrase beginning is the participial beginning. "Sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder with a woman in his arms, Fireman John Casey rescued, etc." It must be borne in mind that the participial phrase must modify a noun and there should be no doubt in the reader's mind as to the noun that it modifies. It would of course be absurd to say "Sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder, fire seriously burned John Casey——," but such things are often said. Never should this participial phrase be used as the subject of a verb, as "Returning home and finding her house in ashes was the unusual experience of Mrs. James, etc." The phrase must always modify a noun just like an adjective.

6. Temporal Clause.—A feature may often be brought to the beginning of the lead by a simple transposition of clauses. Should the time be important a subordinate when or while clause may precede the principal clause of the sentence; i.e., "When the snowstorm was at its height early this morning, a three-story brick building burned, etc.," or "While 15,000 people watched from the street below, 250 girls escaped from the burning building at, etc."

7. Causal Clause.—Should the cause of an action or an occurrence be attractive enough for the first line, a for or a because clause may begin the lead. "Because a tinsmith upset a pot of molten solder on the roof of pier No. 19, two steamers were burned, etc."

This does not exhaust the list of possible beginnings. There are a dozen possible constructions for the beginning of any story; these are merely the commonest ones. Anything unusual or of doubtful grammar should be avoided because of the many possible alternatives that present themselves. And in every lead correct grammar should be considered above all else. If a lead is ungrammatical no clever arrangement of details can make it effective or other than ludicrous. For instance, this lead, taken from a newspaper, illustrates an unfortunate attempt to crowd too many details into a short lead:

Another paper tried to arrange it more happily, thus:

There is evidently something wrong in this. It would be a good exercise to try to express the idea grammatically.

Before we go on to the consideration of the body of this story a few Don'ts in regard to writing leads may be in order.

Don't begin a lead with a person's name unless the person is well known. We are always interested in anything unusual that a man may do or anything unusual that he may suffer, but unless we know the man we are not at all interested in his name. Suppose that a man performs some thrilling act or suffers some unusual misfortune in a city of 100,000 people. Probably not more than one hundred people know him, and of that number only one or two will read the story. Then why begin with his name when his action is of greater interest to all but a few of our readers? And yet every reader wants to know whether the victim is one of his friends. Therefore the man's name must be mentioned in the lead, although it should not come at the beginning. On the other hand, if the man is prominent in the nation or the community and well known to all our readers, his name adds interest to the story and we begin with the name. There is a growing tendency among American newspapers to begin all of their stories with a name. The tendency appears to be the result of an attempt to break away from the conventional lead and to begin in a more natural way—also an easier way. But the name beginning is after all illogical, and any reporter is safe in following the logical course in the matter. If the name is not important begin with something that is important.

Don't waste the main verb of the sentence on a minor action while expressing the principal action in a subordinate clause. This is a violation of emphasis. For example, "Fatally burned by an explosion in his laundry, Hing Lee was taken to the hospital." Naturally he would be taken to the hospital, but why put the emphasis of the whole sentence on that point?

Don't resort to the expression "was the unusual experience of——" "was the fate of——" or any like them. Every word in the lead must count, and here are five words that say nothing at all. Use their place to tell what the unusual experience was. For instance, don't say "To stand in a driving snowstorm and watch their homes burn to the ground was the unusual experience of two families, living at, etc."; say instead, "Standing in a driving snowstorm two families watched their homes burn to the ground." The latter says the same thing more effectively in less space. The use of this expression—"was the unusual experience of"—is always the mark of a green reporter.

Don't overwork the expression "Fire broke out." All fires "break out," but usually we are more interested in the result of the fire than in its "breaking out." Try to use some expression that will give more definite information.

Don't be wordy. Editors are always calling for shorter and more concise leads. If you can say a thing in two words don't use half a dozen. For example, "Four members of the local fire department were rendered unconscious by the deadly fumes from bursting ammonia pipes." This takes three times as much space as "Four firemen were overcome by ammonia fumes," and it does not express the idea any more effectively.

Don't introduce minor details into the lead. If the reader wants the details he may read the rest of the story. Take the following lead as an example:

It is entirely grammatical, but if the reader succeeds in wading through it there is nothing left to tell about the fire. Why not begin the story in this way and leave something for the rest of the story?

Don't waste the first line of the lead on meaningless generalities. Get down to the facts at once. For instance, "The presence of mind and bravery of Fireman David Mullen saved Mrs. Daniel Looker from being burned to death in her flat, etc." We are willing to grant his bravery and presence of mind, but we want to know at once what he did: "By sliding down an eighty-foot extension ladder through flames and smoke with an unconscious woman in his arms, Fireman David Mullen rescued Mrs. Daniel, etc." Equally useless is the beginning, "A daring rescue of an unconscious woman from the fourth story of a blazing flat building was made by Fireman David Mullen to-day, etc." Tell what the daring rescue was and let the reader manufacture a fitting eulogy.

Don't exaggerate the facts to make a feature. When a few persons are frightened don't turn it into a dreadful panic. Every little fire is not a holocaust and the burning of a small barn does not endanger the entire city, unless your imagination is strong enough to guess what might have happened had there been a high wind and no fire engines. A narrow escape from death does not always excuse the beginning, "Scores killed and injured would have been the result, if——" All beginnings of this kind give a false impression and do not tell the truth. If a story has no striking feature be satisfied to tell the truth about it without trying to make a world-wide disaster out of it for the sake of a place on the front page. Exaggeration for a feature is one of the bad elements of sensational journalism. For example, seven lives were lost in this fire, but this is the way the story was written, for the sake of a three-column scare-head:

The suspense is built up in such a way that at the end of the lead we do not know what happened and read on with breathless interest to find that there was a small fire at the Home and seven children were burned.

The Body of the Story.—"A good beginning is half done," according to the proverb. In writing a news story a good beginning is more than half done—two-thirds at least. The lead is the beginning, and when that has been written we are ready to go on to the body of the story with a clear conscience.

Our lead has told the reader the main facts of the case and the most unusual feature. If he reads further he is looking for details. In giving him these we return to the ordinary rules of narration. We start at the very beginning of the story and tell it logically and in detail to the end. We tell it as if no lead preceded it and repeat in greater detail the incidents briefly outlined in the lead. Never should the body of the story depend upon the lead for clearness. If the feature of the story is a rescue and you have briefly described the rescue in the lead, ignore the lead and describe the rescue all over again in the body of the story in its proper place. The number of details that are to be introduced into the story is limited only by the space that the story seems to be worth. But no point should be mentioned in the story unless space permits of its being made clear.

The ordinary rules of English composition apply to the writing of the body of the story. The copy must be paragraphed, cut up into paragraphs that are rather shorter than ordinary literary paragraphs, since the narrowness of the newspaper column makes the paragraph seem longer. Heterogeneous details must not be piled together in the same paragraph, but the facts must be grouped and handled logically. No paragraph should be noticeably longer than the others, and it is decidedly bad to paragraph one sentence alone simply because it does not seem to go in with any other sentence. If the fact is important expand it into a paragraph by the introduction of further details; if it is unimportant either cut it out of the story altogether or attach it to the paragraph to which it seems most logically to belong.

One fact, already stated, must be borne in mind as the body of the story progresses. The report should be built up in such a way that the editor can slash off a paragraph or two at the end without injuring the story—without sacrificing any important facts. To do this the reporter should bring the important parts of the story as near the beginning as the logical order will permit. The interest of a perfect news story is like an inverted cone. The interest is abundant at the beginning and gradually dwindles out until there is nothing more to say when the end is reached. Just how far the dwindling should be carried depends upon the amount of space that the story seems to be worth in the paper.

This may seem difficult. It may be hard to see how a story can be told in its logical order while at the same time the most interesting facts are placed at the beginning, even if they logically belong near the end. For example, we may take the story of an unusual robbery. A well-dressed man goes into a grocery store to get some butter and tries to rob the grocer. In the ensuing scuffle the would-be robber escapes. A young woman who happens to be passing sees the end of the fight and pursues the robber down the street until he runs into a saloon. She calls a policeman who is standing on the corner and the officer rushes into the saloon, up three flights of stairs and finds the robber on the roof behind a chimney. The officer shouts to another policeman, and together they arrest the robber.

Now, what is the most interesting thing in the story? Probably the pursuit—a young woman chasing a robber down the street. Our lead might be written in this way:

The lead might be arranged in a different way, but these are the facts that it would contain. Before we consider the arrangement of the body of the story it may be well to go back to the interviews by which we secured the story. In getting the facts we would probably talk to Young, the groceryman, and to the saloonkeeper into whose establishment the robber fled. We could probably interview the policeman who made the arrest, but let us suppose that the young woman could not be found. The groceryman would tell us about the attempted robbery and the escape, with the girl in pursuit. The saloonkeeper would tell us how the man fled into his saloon and ran up the stairs to the roof; then how two policemen came and made the arrest. The policeman could tell us how a young woman ran up to him and told him that a robber had fled into the saloon; then he would describe the arrest. None of these stories is told just as we want the newspaper story—each one tells us only a part of the story. If the finished story were written by a green reporter it would probably tell the story in the order in which it was obtained. That is if the reporter saw the policeman first, then the saloonkeeper, and lastly the groceryman; his story would tell in the first paragraph what the policeman said, in the second paragraph what the saloonkeeper said, and in the last paragraph what the grocer said. At least that is the way in which green reporters in the classroom attempted to write the story.

But, obviously, that is not the logical way to tell the story. The finished account should be written in the order in which it happened: i.e., first the robbery, then the pursuit, and lastly the arrest. This would be the ideal way to tell the story—according to the rules of English composition—if we could be sure that the entire story would be printed. But if it were written in this way and the editor decided to slash off the last paragraph, what would go? Obviously the arrest would not be printed; and the arrest was quite interesting. We must find some way to bring the arrest nearer to the beginning. This may be done by selecting the most interesting parts of the story—by picking out the high spots, as it were. In this story the high spots are the attempted robbery, the pursuit, and the arrest. The details that fill in between are interesting, but not so interesting as these high spots. Hence these high spots of interest must be pushed forward toward the beginning. After the lead the story would begin at the beginning and tell the affair briefly by high spots in their proper order. It might be something like this:

The above account tells us briefly the most interesting parts of the story. A copyreader might not find it perfect, for the assault is allotted too much space and the pursuit too little, but it tells the story in its baldest aspect. This, with the lead, could be run alone. However, perhaps the story is worth more space; at any rate, many interesting details have been omitted. If so, go back to the most interesting part of the story—the assault, perhaps, or the pursuit—and tell it with more details. Then retell some other part with more details. If your readers are interested enough to read beyond the first three paragraphs they want details and will not be so particular about the order—for they already know how the story is going to end.

This is one way of meeting the requirements of logical order and dwindling interest. This is a particularly hard story to arrange in the conventional way since we must have the whole story to be interested in any single part—it has too many striking incidents in it. On the other hand, a story which contains only one striking incident is much easier to handle. Suppose that we are reporting a fire which is interesting only for its cause or for a daring rescue in it. Our lead would suggest this interesting element and the first part of our story would be devoted entirely to the cause or to the rescue, as the case might be. But it is better to sketch briefly, immediately after or very close to the lead, the entire story, for our readers want to know how it ends before they can be interested in any particular part. If we sketch the whole story and show them that there is only one important thing in the story, they will be satisfied to read about the one striking incident without wondering if there is not something more interesting further on. If we leave the conclusion of the story to the end of our copy the editor may cut it off and leave our story dangling in midair. Every story must be treated in its own way, according to its own incidents and difficulties; no two stories are alike in substance or treatment. In every one our aim must be to keep to the logical order and at the same time to put the most interesting parts of the story near the beginning.

The construction of the body of a story may be illustrated more clearly by a fatal fire story—since fire stories are more uniform, and hence easier to write than other news stories. Let us suppose that the story is as follows: At four o'clock in the afternoon a fire started from some unknown cause in the basement of a four-story brick building at 383-385 Sixth Street, occupied by the Incandescent Light Company. Before the fire company arrived the flames had spread up through the building and into an adjoining three-story brick building at 381 Sixth Street, occupied by Isaac Schmidt's second-hand store and home on the first and second floors and by Mrs. Sarah Jones's boarding house on the third. The Schmidts were away and Mrs. Jones's lodgers escaped via the fire escapes. Her cook, Hilda Schultz, was overcome by smoke and had to be carried out by Jack Sweeney, a lodger. Mrs. Jones fell from the fire escape and was badly bruised. Meanwhile the firemen were at work on the roof of the burning four-story building. Blinded by the smoke, one of them, John MacBane, stepped through a skylight and fell to the fourth floor. His comrades tried to rescue him by lowering Fireman Henry Bond into the smoke by the heels; they were unsuccessful and Bond broke his arm in the attempt. The fire was confined to the lower floors of the two buildings and extinguished. In searching for MacBane, the firemen found him suffocated on the fourth floor where he had fallen.

The feature of the story is evidently the one death and the three injuries. Our lead might be written as follows:

This lead would suggest to the reader many interesting details to come in the body of the story, and evidently the details are not all of equal importance. The story could be told in its logical order, but, since the death is more interesting than the origin of the fire and the injuries are more significant than how the fire spread, it is obvious that it would not be best to tell the story in the order in which it is told above.

Disregarding the lead, we must cover the following details in the body of our story:

• Description of buildings and occupants.
• Origin of fire.
• Discovery of fire.
• Spread of flames.
• Injury of Mrs. Jones.
• Rescue of Hilda Schultz.
• Death of MacBane.
• Injury of Bond.
• Fire extinguished.

This is the order in which things occurred at the fire. However, in our lead, we have drawn attention to our story by announcing that it concerns a fire in which a man was killed; the death therefore should have first place in the body of the story. Hence, in the second paragraph immediately after the lead, we must tell how MacBane fell through the skylight and was suffocated. Along with his death we may as well tell how Bond broke his arm trying to rescue MacBane. Our lead has also announced two other injuries and, hence, they must be included next—that is, our third paragraph must be devoted to the injury of Mrs. Jones and the rescue of the unconscious Hilda. But as yet our details are hanging in the air because we have not said anything about the buildings or the fire itself. In the next paragraph it would be well to describe the buildings and their occupants and to give a very brief account of the course of the fire—perhaps in this way:

This tells the main course of the fire, but there are some interesting details to add: first, the origin of the fire; next, the discovery; then more about how the fire spread; and lastly, how the fire was extinguished. Our story by paragraphs would read as follows:

Thus, while telling the story almost in its logical order, we have picked out the high spots of interest and crowded them to the beginning. Our readers will get the facts just about as fast as they wish to read them and in the order in which they wish them. Our story may be run in nine paragraphs or even more; or the editor may slash off anything after the fourth paragraph without taking away any of the essential facts of the fire. This method of telling would fulfill all the requirements of an ideal news story. A similar outline of the facts that any story must present will often help a reporter to tell his story as it should be told. After listing the details he may number them in their order of importance and check them off as he has told them.

This idea of throwing the emphasis and interest to the beginning applies to the individual paragraphs and sentences of the story, as well. Each paragraph must begin strongly and display its most interesting content in the first line. The emphatic part of each sentence should be the beginning. A glance at any newspaper column shows why this is necessary.

The body of a news story is the place for the reporter's skill and style. He is given all the liberties of ordinary narration and should make the most of every word. His individual style comes into play here. If the interest can be increased by a bit of dialogue the reporter may put it in. If the facts can be presented more effectively by means of direct quotation, the words of any one whom the reporter has interviewed may be of interest. However, these things must not be overworked because every trick of writing loses its effectiveness when it is overworked.

Dialogue used only to give facts which might be told more clearly in simple direct form should seldom be used. Dialogue in a news story is used only to color the story and not to reproduce the interviews by which the facts were obtained. In gathering the facts of a story it is sometimes necessary to interview a number of people, but these interviews should not be quoted in the resulting story. Many a green reporter tries to give his story character by telling what the policeman on the corner, the janitor, and a small boy in the street told him about the incident. He succeeds only in dragging out the length of his story and confusing the reader. After all, the purpose of a newspaper is to give facts—and the clearer and the more direct the method the better will be the result.

In striving for clearness and interest a reporter must remember that one of his greatest assets is concreteness of expression. Of all forms of composition newspaper writing possesses probably the greatest opportunity for definiteness. Facts and events are its one concern; theories and abstractions are beyond its range. Hence the more definite and concrete its presentation of facts, the better will be its effect. The reporter should never generalize or present his statements hazily and uncertainly—a fact is a fact and must be presented as such. He must try to avoid such expressions as "several," "many," "a few"—it is usually possible to give the exact number. He must continually ask himself "how many?" "what kind?" "exactly when?" "exactly what?" Expressions like "about a dozen," "about thirty years old," "about a week ago," "about a block away," are never so effective as the exact facts and figures. Definite concrete details make a news story real and vivid. The real reporter of news is the one who can see a thing clearly and with every detail and present it as clearly and distinctly.

Back to contents

VIII

OTHER NEWS STORIES

There is a vast number of other stories that we must be able to write, and they lack the convenient uniformity that fires have. Not only does every story have a different feature, but it is concerned with a different kind of happening. One assignment may call for the report of an explosion, another the report of a business transaction, and another a murder. In each one we have to get the facts and choose the most striking fact as our feature. Never can we resort to the simple beginning "Fire destroyed," but we must find a different beginning for each assignment.

Just as in the fire story, the lead of any news story is the most important part. It must begin with the most striking part of the event and answer the reader's Where? When? How? Why? and Who? concerning it. All the rules that apply to the fire lead apply to the lead of any story.

It would be impossible to classify all the news stories that a newspaper must print. The very zest of reporting comes from the changing variety of the work; no two assignments are ever exactly alike—if they were only one would be worth printing. Newspapers themselves make no attempt to classify the ordinary run of news or to work out a systematic division of labor; a reporter may be called upon to cover a fire, a political meeting, a murder, a business story, all in the same day. Each one is simply a story and must be covered in the same way that all the rest are covered—by many interviews for facts. For our study it may be well to divide news stories into a few large groups. The groups overlap and are not entirely distinct, but the stories in each group have some one thing in common that may aid us in learning how to write them. At most, the list is only a very incomplete summary of the more important kinds of news stories and is intended to be merely a suggestive way of supplying the student with necessary practice.

1. Accidents.—Accident stories may be anything from a sprained ankle to a disastrous railroad wreck, but they all depend upon one element for their interest. They are all printed because people in general are interested in the injuries and deaths of other people—physical calamity is the common ground in all these stories.

The number of possible accidents is infinite, but there are some common types that recur most often. Among these are: railroad, trolley, railroad crossing accidents; runaways; electrocutions; explosions; collapse of buildings; marine disasters; cave-in accidents; elevator, automobile, aviation accidents.

The feature of any accident story is always, of course, the thing that made the story worth printing, and that is usually the human life element. The feature of an accident story is almost always the number of dead and injured. Most reports of railroad wrecks begin with "Ten persons were killed and seventeen were injured in a wreck, etc." The same is true of any accident story; if more than one person is killed it is usually safe to begin with the number of fatalities. In this connection it may be noted that the death of railroad employees seldom makes a story worth printing; they may be included in the total number, but if no passengers are killed, fatalities among trainmen seldom give a story any news value.

Accident stories of course have many other possible features; newspapers report many accidents in which no one is killed. In that case some other element gives the story news value and that element must be played up as the feature. Perhaps it is the manner in which the accident happened or the manner in which a person was killed or injured, as in an automobile accident. The cause of the accident may be the most interesting part of the story: train-wreckers or a broken rail in a railroad wreck, or the cause of an explosion. Very often an accident is reported simply because some well-known person was connected with it in some way; the name then becomes the feature and comes into the first line. A story may be worth printing simply because of the unusual manner of rescue; such a feature is often played up in stories of marine accidents, cave-ins, etc. Not infrequently some of the unusual attendant circumstances give a story news value: e.g., a policeman dragged from his horse and run over by an automobile while he is trying to stop a runaway.

Here are some accident stories from the newspapers:

Fatalities: