The Great God Success | Page 5

charge of the City Desk for the
day sent him up to the Park to write a descriptive story of the crowds.
"Try to get a new point of view," he said, "and let yourself loose.
There's usually plenty of room in Monday's paper."
Howard wandered through the Central Park for two hours, struggling
for the "new point of view" of the crowds he saw there--these
monotonous millions, he thought, lazily drinking at a vast trough of
country air in the heart of the city. He planned an article carefully as he
dined alone at the Casino. He went down to the office early and wrote
diligently--about two thousand words. When he had finished, the Night
City Editor told him that he might go as there would be nothing more
that night.
He was in the street at seven the next morning. As he walked along
with a News-Record, bought at the first news-stand, he searched every
page: first, the larger "heads"--such a long story would call for a "big
head;" then the smaller "heads"--they may have been crowded and have
had to cut it down; then the single-line "heads"--surely they found a
"stickful" or so worth printing.
At last he found it. A dozen items in the smallest type, agate, were
grouped under the general heading "City Jottings" at the end of an
inside column of an inside page. The first of these City Jottings was
two lines in length:
"The millions were in the Central Park yesterday, lazily drinking at that
vast trough of country air in the heart of the city."
As he entered the office Howard looked appealingly and apologetically
at the boy on guard at the railing and braced himself to receive the
sneering frown of the City Editor and to bear the covert smiles of his
fellow reporters. But he soon saw that no one had observed his mighty
spring for a foothold and his ludicrous miss and fall.
"Had anything in yet?" Kittredge inquired casually, late in the
afternoon.

"I wrote a column and a half yesterday and I found two lines among the
City Jottings," replied Howard, reddening but laughing.
"The first story I wrote was cut to three lines but they got a libel suit on
it."

II.
THE CITY EDITOR RECONSIDERS.
At the end of six weeks, the City Editor called Howard up to the desk
and asked him to seat himself. He talked in a low tone so that the
Assistant City Editor, reading the newspapers at a nearby desk, could
not hear.
"We like you, Mr. Howard." Mr. Bowring spoke slowly and with a
carefulness in selecting words that indicated embarrassment. "And we
have been impressed by your earnestness. But we greatly fear that you
are not fitted for this profession. You write well enough, but you do not
seem to get the newspaper--the news--idea. So we feel that in justice to
you and to ourselves we ought to let you know where you stand. If you
wish, we shall be glad to have you remain with us two weeks longer.
Meanwhile you can be looking about you. I am certain that you will
succeed somewhere, in some line, sooner or later. But I think that the
newspaper profession is a waste of your time."
Howard had expected this. Failure after failure, his articles thrown
away or rewritten by the copyreaders, had prepared him for the blow.
Yet it crushed him for the moment. His voice was not steady as he
replied:
"No doubt you are right. Thank you for taking the trouble to study my
case and tell me so soon."
"Don't hesitate to stay on for the two weeks," Mr. Bowring continued.
"We can make you useful to us. And you can look about to much better
advantage than if you were out of a place."

"I'll stay the two weeks," Howard said, "unless I find something
sooner."
"Don't be more discouraged than you can help," said Mr. Bowring.
"You may be very grateful before long for finding out so early what
many of us--I myself, I fear--find out after years and--when it is too
late."
Always that note of despair; always that pointing to the motto over the
door of the profession: "Abandon hope, ye who enter here." What was
the explanation? Were these men right? Was he wrong in thinking that
journalism offered the most splendid of careers--the development of the
mind and the character; the sharpening of all the faculties; the service
of truth and right and human betterment, in daily combat with injustice
and error and falsehood; the arousing and stimulating of the drowsy
minds of the masses of mankind?
Howard looked about at the men who held on where he was slipping.
"Can it be," he thought, "that I cannot survive in