There are not a great
many reporters. And none of them has the power to be in more than one
place at a time. Reporters are not clairvoyant, they do not gaze into
a crystal ball and see the world at will, they are not assisted by
thought-transference. Yet the range of subjects these comparatively
few men manage to cover would be a miracle indeed, if it were not a
standardized routine.
Newspapers do not try to keep an eye on all mankind. [Footnote: See the
illuminating chapter in Mr. John L. Given's book, already cited, on
"Uncovering the News," Ch. V.] They have watchers stationed at certain
places, like Police Headquarters, the Coroner's Office, the County
Clerk's Office, City Hall, the White House, the Senate, House of
Representatives, and so forth. They watch, or rather in the majority
of cases they belong to associations which employ men who watch "a
comparatively small number of places where it is made known when the
life of anyone... departs from ordinary paths, or when events worth
telling about occur. For example, John Smith, let it be supposed,
becomes a broker. For ten years he pursues the even tenor of his way
and except for his customers and his friends no one gives him a
thought. To the newspapers he is as if he were not. But in the
eleventh year he suffers heavy losses and, at last, his resources all
gone, summons his lawyer and arranges for the making of an assignment.
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