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Updated: June 15, 2025
'I tell you, said he, grumbling over some unfortunate proof-sheets from Manhattan, 'there isn't one man in New York who can write English not from the Battery to Harlem Heights. And if the faults were moral rather than literary, his disapproval grew in emphasis. Like an editor who would have made a good fisherman, he used to say that you had to cast a dozen times before you could get a strike.
They did not go to church in the afternoon unless they wished, but were pounced upon by Katy instead, and forced to listen to the reading of The Sunday Visitor, a religious paper, of which she was the editor. This paper was partly written, partly printed, on a large sheet of foolscap, and had at the top an ornamental device, in lead pencil, with "Sunday Visitor" in the middle of it.
From the story of one of these, P. Barrett, an editor on the Examiner, we select a thrilling account of his experience on that morning of awe. "I have seen this whole, great horror. I stood with two other members of the Examiner staff on the corner of Market Street, waiting for a car. Newspaper duties had kept us working until five o'clock in the morning.
The odds against you two, of all the millions, choosing the one street of the thousands in London to walk down at the same minute of time, would seem incalculable; and yet the chance comes off so often as to be a matter of the most ordinary experience. On this occasion I was expecting orders from my editor to produce certain articles on the subject of the London hospitals.
The question is, would a late editor or poet know all the details of customary law in such a case as a quarrel between Over-Lord and peer? would a feudal audience have been satisfied with a poem which did not wind the quarrel up in accordance with usage? and would a late poet, in a society no longer feudal, know how to wind it up?
A ghost story,* published some years ago in a London magazine, and much commented on because of its peculiarly weird and startling character, had this origin; so had a fairy tale, which appeared in a Christmas Annual last year, and which has recently been re-issued in German by the editor of a foreign periodical. Many of my more * "Steepside" "Beyond the Sunset"
She now opened it, and, with a remark about looking for the report of her yesterday's lecture at the Butterfly Club, directed her gaze at the front page, on which she hoped that an editor with the best interests of the public at heart had decided to place her. Mr. McCall, jumping up and down behind his glasses, scrutinised her face closely as she began to read.
He seemed not quite a man of the world, a little shy in manner, yet he addressed me kindly and sociably. I guessed him to be Mr. Charles Swain, the poet, whom Mr. Bennoch had invited to dinner. Soon came another guest whom Mr. Swain introduced to me as Mr. , editor of the Manchester Examiner.
This book, as published, is one which no gentleman would place in the hands of a lady, and the editor tells us that the most improper portions of the diary have been expurgated; yet this journal was written, not to amuse a scandal-loving public, not for purposes of gain, but for the private perusal of Theodosia.
It stopped and backed at purposeless intervals, waited for an express to precede it, and dallied at stations, and when, at last, it reached the terminus, Gallegher was out before it had stopped and was in the cab and off on his way to the home of the sporting editor. The sporting editor was at dinner and came out in the hall to see him, with his napkin in his hand.
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