Helen in the Editor's Chair

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER VII _The First Issue_

  At the close of school Helen met Margaret Stevens in the hall outside theassembly room.

  "What is my first assignment going to be?" asked Helen's reporting staff.

  "I think it would be a good idea if you went to the teachers and got allthe school news," Helen suggested. "It is almost the end of the year andmost of the classes are planning parties and programs of various kinds."

  "I'll do it right away," promised Margaret and she hurried off on herfirst newspaper assignment.

  Helen smiled at her friend's enthusiasm and she hoped that it wouldn'twear off for Margaret was clever, knew a great many people and could be areal help if she made up her mind to gather news. In return, all Helencould offer would be the experience and the closer friendship which theirconstant association would mean.

  The young editor of the _Herald_ walked down the street alone, for mostof the students had left the building while she had been talking withMargaret.

  When she reached the _Herald_ office she heard the steady hum of theelectric motor of the Linotype and the clack of its long arm as Tom sentthe lines of matrices into the mould to come out in the form of shiny,hot lead slugs--new type for their first edition of the _Herald_.

  Tom rose from his chair before the Linotype keyboard and came into theeditorial office.

  "That's a fine story on the storm," he told Helen. "It's so interesting Ican't make any time getting it into type; keep stopping to read yourdescriptions again."

  "I've got another good story," Helen replied, and she told her brotherall about the visit of the state superintendent of schools and of hispraise for the local school.

  "What a front page we'll have to send to Dad," chuckled Tom. "And tomatch your good news stories, I made the rounds of the stores the firstthing this afternoon and got the ads lined up. I couldn't get the copyfor all of them but I know just how much space each store will take.We'll have a 'pay dirt' issue this week with a little more than 250inches of ads and at 25 cents a column inch that means better than $60worth of business. Not bad for a starter, eh?"

  "Won't that crowd the inside pages?"

  "A little," Tom conceded, "but we've got to make every cent we can. I'vebeen doing a little figuring on our expenses and how much business weought to have. We think of the _Herald_ as an eight page paper. That'strue, but four of the pages are printed at Cranston by the Globe PrintingCompany with our serial story, pictures of news of the world, fashion andmenu suggestions and world news in general on them. We seldom if ever putads on our front page and that leaves only three pages for which we cansell ads and on which we must earn enough to pay expenses, keep thefamily going and build up a surplus to take care of Dad when he needsmore money. Those three six column pages have 360 column inches, 120 toeach page, and at our rate of 25 cents an inch for advertising we've gotto sell a lot to make the grade."

  "I hadn't figured it out like that," Helen admitted, "but of courseyou're right. Can't we expand the paper some way to get more business?Only this morning the farmer that came in to see about the sale billssaid he wished we would run a farm page and the school superintendentwould like to have a school page next fall."

  "The farm page," Tom said, "would undoubtedly bring us more business andthe first time I have a half day to spare I'll take the old car and godown to Gladbrook and see the county agent.

  "Maybe I can get some job work from the offices at the courthouse," headded hopefully.

  The telephone rang and Helen answered the call. It was from a woman whohad out-of-town guests and the young editor jotted the names down on apad of paper. That done she turned to her typewriter and wrote the item,for with her half days to work she had to write her stories as soon asshe had them.

  Margaret bounced in with a handful of notes.

  "I've got half a dozen school stories," she exclaimed. "Almost everyteacher had something for me and they're anxious to see their school newsin the paper."

  "I thought they would be," Helen smiled. "Can you run a typewriter?"

  "I'm a total stranger," Margaret confessed. "I'll do a lot better if Iscribble my stories in longhand, if Tom thinks he can read my scrawls."

  "I'll try," came the reply from the composing room, "but I absolutelyrefuse to stand on my head to do it."

  "They're not that bad," laughed Margaret, "and I'll try to do especiallywell for you."

  Helen provided her first assistant with copypaper and Margaret sat downat the desk to write her stories. The editor of the _Herald_ then devotedher attention to writing up the notes she had taken in her talk with thestate superintendent of schools. It was a story that she found slow towrite for she wanted no mistakes in it.

  The afternoon was melting in a soft May twilight when Tom snapped theswitch on the Linotype and came into the editorial office.

  "Almost six o'clock," he said, "and time for us to head for home andsupper."

  Margaret, who had been at the desk writing for more than an hour,straightened her cramped back.

  "Ouch!" she exclaimed. "I never thought reporting could be such work andyet so much fun. I'm getting the biggest thrill out of my stories."

  "That's about all the pay you will get," grinned Tom.

  They closed the office and started home together. They had hardly gone ablock when Helen stopped suddenly.

  "Give me the office key, Tom," she said. "I started a letter to Dad thismorning and it got sidetracked when someone came in. I'm going back andget it. I can finish it at home and mail it on the seven-fifteen when Icome down to meet the train."

  "I'll get it for you," said Tom and started on the run for the office. Hegot her half-finished letter, and rejoined Helen and Margaret, who hadwalked slowly.

  "I'll add a few lines to your letter," Tom said. "Dad will be glad toknow we've lined up a lot of ads for our first issue."

  Doctor Stevens came out of his office and joined them in their walk home.

  "How are all the storm victims?" asked Helen.

  "Getting along fine," said the doctor. "I can't understand why thereweren't more serious injuries. The storm was terrific."

  "Perhaps it is because most of them heard it coming and sought shelter inthe strongest buildings or took refuge in cellars," suggested Tom.

  "I suppose that's the explanation."

  "I'll finish my school stories tomorrow afternoon," promised Margaret asshe turned toward her home.

  The twilight hour was the one that Helen liked best of all the busy hoursof her day. From the porch she could look down at the long, deep-bluestretch of water that was Lake Dubar while a liquid-gold sun settled intothe western hills. Purple shadows in the little valleys bordering thelake, lights gleaming from farm house windows on far away hills, themellow chime of a freight train whistling for a crossing and over all apervading calmness that overcame any feeling of fatigue and brought onlya feeling of rest and quiet to Helen. It was hard to believe that alittle more than 24 hours before this peaceful scene had been threatenedwith total destruction by the fury of the elements.

  Helen's mother called and the _Herald_ editor went into the dining room.Tom, his hands scrubbed clean of printer's ink, was at the table whenHelen took her place.

  Mrs. Blair bowed her head in silent prayer and Tom and Helen didlikewise.

  "Didn't I see you working in the garden this morning when I went down thelake with Jim Preston?" Helen asked her mother.

  "Probably. I'm planning a larger garden than ever. We can cut down on ourgrocery bills if we raise more things at home."

  "Don't try to do too much," Tom warned, "for we're depending on you asthe boss of this outfit now. I'll help you with the garden every chance Iget."

  "I know you will," his mother replied, "but I thoroughly enjoy workingoutdoors. If you'll take care of the potato patch, I'll be able to do therest and still find time to write a few social items for the paper."

  "Did you get any today?" Helen asked.

&nbs
p; "Nearly half a dozen. The Methodist Ladies Aid is planning a springfestival, an afternoon of quilting and a chicken dinner in the eveningwith everyone invited."

  "And what a feed they put out," added Tom. "I'll have to see theirofficers and get an ad for the paper."

  Supper over and the dishes washed, dried and put away, Helen turned herattention to finishing the letter to her father. Tom also sat down towrite a note and when they had finished Mrs. Blair put their letters inthe envelope with her own, sealed it and gave it to Helen.

  Margaret Stevens stuck her head in the door.

  "Going up to school for the sophomore-junior debate?" she asked.

  "I've got to meet the seven-fifteen first," Helen replied. "I'll meet youat school about seven-thirty."

  "Wait a minute, Marg," said Tom. "I guess I'll go along and see just howbadly the sophomores are beaten. Of course you know you kids haven't gota chance."

  "Be careful, Tom," Helen warned. "Margaret is captain of our debateteam."

  "Oh, that's all right," chuckled Tom. "No offense."

  "It will be an offense, though," smiled Margaret, "and the juniors willbe on the receiving end of our verbal attack."

  "Look out for a counter attack," Tom grinned.

  "We'll be home early, mother," said Helen as they left the house.

  "I hope the sophomores win," her mother said. "Tom and his juniors aretoo sure of themselves."

  The seven-fifteen coughed its way into town, showering the few people onthe platform with cinders. Helen ran to the mail car and dropped herletter into the mail slot.

  Mr. King, the state superintendent of instruction, was the only passengerleaving but there were several Rolfe people getting off the train. Shegot their names and stopped to talk a minute or two with the agent.

  "I'll have some news for next week's paper," he told her, but refused tosay another word about the promised story and Helen went on to the highschool.

  The assembly was well filled with students and a scattering of parentswhose children were taking part in the inter-class debate. The seniordebaters had already eliminated the freshmen and the winner of thesophomore-junior debate would meet the seniors for the championship ofthe school.

  Helen looked around for a seat and was surprised to see her mother besideMrs. Stevens.

  "I didn't know you planned to come," Helen said.

  "I didn't," smiled her mother, "but just after you left Mrs. Stevens ranover and I decided to come with her."

  The debate was on the question of whether the state should adopt a pavingprogram which would reach every county. The sophomores supported theaffirmative and the juniors the negative. The question was of vitalinterest for it was to come to a vote in July and, if approved, Rolfewould get a place on the scenic highway which would run along the westernborder of the state, through the beautiful lake country. It would mean anincreased tourist trade and more business for Rolfe.

  Margaret had marshalled her facts into impressive arguments and theweight of the evidence was with her team but the juniors threw up a smokescreen of ridicule to hide their weaker facts and Helen felt her heartsinking as the debate progressed. Margaret made the final rebuttal forthe sophomores and gave a masterful argument in favor of the paved roadprogram but the last junior speaker came back with a few humorous remarksthat could easily confuse the judges into mistaking brilliant humor forfacts.

  The debate closed and the judges handed their slips with their decisionsto Superintendent Fowler. Every eye in the assembly watched thesuperintendent as he unfolded the slips and jotted down the results. Hestood up behind his desk.

  "The judges vote two to one in favor of the sophomores," he announced.

  There was a burst of applause and students and parents crowded around thevictorious team to congratulate it. When it was all over, Mrs. Blair,Mrs. Stevens, Margaret, Helen and Tom started home together.

  "And we didn't have a chance," Margaret chided Tom.

  "I still think we have the best team," insisted Tom. "The judges got alittle confused."

  "If they were confused, Tom," his mother said, "it was by the juniors.Your team didn't have the facts; they resorted to humor and ridicule. Ithink it is a fine victory for the sophomores."

  Tuesday morning Helen looked over the stories Margaret had written theafternoon before and wrote a long story about the sophomore-juniordebate, stressing the arguments in favor of the paving program which thesophomores had brought out. She was thoroughly in agreement and meant todevote space in the _Herald_, both editorially and from a newsstandpoint, to furthering the passage of the good roads program.

  The farmer who had called the day before came in with his copy for the adand sale bills.

  "I've talked over the farm page idea with my brother," Helen told him,"and we'll get one started just as soon as he can find the time to go toGladbrook and see the county agent."

  "I'm glad to hear that," replied the farmer, "and I'll pass the wordaround to our neighbors. Also, if you had a column of news each week fromthe courthouse it would help your paper. A lot of farmers take one of theGladbrook papers just for that reason. They want courthouse news andcan't get it in the _Herald_."

  "We'll see about that, too," promised Helen.

  She had almost forgotten that she was to write to the state bureau of theAssociated Press and apply for the job as correspondent for Rolfe and thenearby vicinity. She wrote one letter, was dissatisfied, tore it up andwrote a second and then a third before she was ready to mail it. As Tomhad said, it would be one way of increasing their income and at the sametime might help her to secure a job later.

  Margaret finished her school stories after school that afternoon andHelen visited all of the stores down town in search of personals. Severalfishermen had been fined for illegal fishing and she got that story fromthe justice of the peace. She called on the ministers and got theirchurch notices.

  Wednesday was their big day and Helen worked hard all morning writing herpersonals. The main news stories about the storm, the visit of the statesuperintendent and the high school debate were already in type and Tomhad finished setting most of the ads.

  When Helen came down after school Tom called her into the composing room.He had the ads for the two inside pages placed in the forms. One of thepages they devoted to the editorials and the other they filled withpersonal items about the comings and goings of local people.

  The ads were placed well in the pages and when Tom finished putting inthe type he stood back and looked at his handiwork.

  "I call that mighty good makeup," he said. "Pyramiding the ads on theleft side of the page makes them look better and then we always have newson the right-hand side."

  Helen agreed that the pages were well made up and Tom locked the typeinto the steel forms, picked up one of the pages and carried it to thepress. The other page was put on and locked into place.

  Tom washed his hands and climbed up to take his place on the press. Thepaper for that issue of the _Herald_ had come down from Cranston the daybefore with four pages, two and three and six and seven already printed.Pages four and five, filled with local news and ads, were on the press.Tom would get them printed in the next two hours and on Thursdayafternoon would make up and print page one and page eight.

  He smoothed the stack of paper on the feeding board, put a littleglycerine on his fingers so he could pick up each sheet and feed it intothe press, and then threw on the switch. The motor hummed. Tom fed onesheet into the press and pushed in the clutch. The press shook itself outof its week-long slumber, groaned in protest at the thought of printinganother week's issue, but at the continued urging of the powerful motor,clanked into motion.

  "See how the ink looks," Tom called and Helen seized the first fewpapers. Her brother stopped the press and climbed down to look over thepages for possible corrections.

  "Looks all right," he conceded as he scanned the cleanly printed page.

  "Wonder how Dad will like our new editorial head and the three column boxhead I set for your per
sonals?"

  "He'll like them," Helen said. "The only reason he didn't do things likethat was because he didn't have the strength."

  Tom nodded, wiped a tear from his eyes, and went back to feeding thepress. Helen kept the papers stacked neatly as they came out and it wasnearly six o'clock before Tom finished the first run.

  "We'll go home and get something to eat," he said, "and then come back.I've got some more copy to set on the Linotype and you write your lastminute stories. Maybe we'll have time to make up part of the front pagebefore we go home tonight. I'd like to have you here and we'll write theheads together and see how they look."

  "Are you going to head all of the front page stories?" asked Helen.

  "If I have time," Tom replied. "It improves the looks of the paper; makesit look newsy and alive."

  Supper was waiting for them when they reached home and Tom handed hismother a copy of the two inside pages they had just printed.

  "It looks fine," enthused Mrs. Blair, "and the ads are so well arrangedand attractive. Tom, you've certainly worked hard, and, Helen, I don'tsee where you got so many personals."

  "We're going to use your column of social news on page eight," Tom wenton. "It's on the last run and in that way we can be sure of getting inall of your news."

  "I have three more items," said his mother. "They're all written andready to be set up."

  "We're going back for a while after supper," said Helen, "but I don'tthink it will take us over a couple of hours to finish, do you, Tom?"

  "About nine-thirty," replied Tom, who was devoting himselfwhole-heartedly to a large baked potato.

  When they returned to the office Helen finished the last of her items inhalf an hour. By eight-thirty Tom had all of the news in type and hadmade the necessary corrections from the proofs which Helen had read.

  "We need a head for the storm story," he said. "A three line, threecolumn 30 point one ought to be about right. You jot one down on a sheetof paper and I'll try and make it fit."

  Helen worked several minutes on a headline. "This is the best I can do,"she said:

  "TORNADO CAUSES $150,000 DAMAGE NEAR ROLFE SUNDAY; MISSES TOWN BUT STRIKES RESORT ALONG LAKE"

  "Sounds fine," Tom said. "Now I'll see how it fits." He set up theheadline and Helen wrote a two column one for the story of the Rolfeschool being the best for its size in the state.

  Tom put the headlines on the front page and placed the stories underthem. Shorter stories, some of them written by Margaret, filled up thepage and they turned their attention to page eight, the last one to bemade up.

  Their mother's social items led the page, followed by the church noticesand the last of Helen's personals.

  "We've got about ten inches too much type," said Tom. "See if some of thepersonals can't be left out and run next week."

  Helen culled out six items that could be left out and Tom finished makingup the page. Tomorrow he would print the last two pages and Helen wouldassemble the papers and fold them. Their first issue of the _Herald_ wasready for the press.