. Bung? Of
what club was he a member? None, apparently. Then who cares if he is
poisoned? And "the young woman!" What a way to speak of a decent girl
who never did any other harm than to poison a club man. And the English
magistrate! What a tame part he must have played: his name indeed
doesn't occur at all: apparently he didn't enlarge on the girl's good
looks, or "comment on her attractive appearance," or anything. I don't
suppose that he even asked Mary Forrester out to lunch with him.

Notice also that, according to the English way of writing the thing up,
as soon as the girl was remanded for a week the incident is closed.
The English reporter doesn't apparently know enough to follow Miss De
Forrest to her home (called "the De Forrest Residence" and marked with
a cross, +). The American reporter would make certain to supplement what
went above with further information of this fashion. "Miss De Forrest
when seen later at her own home by a representative of The Eagle
said that she regretted very much having been put to the necessity of
poisoning Mr. Bung. She had in the personal sense nothing against Mr.
Bung and apart from poisoning him she had every respect for Mr. Bung.
Miss De Forrest, who talks admirably on a variety of topics, expressed
herself as warmly in favour of the League of Nations and as a devotee of
the short ballot and proportional representation."

Any American reader who studies the English Press comes upon these
wasted opportunities every day. There are indeed certain journals of
a newer type which are doing their best to imitate us. But they don't
really get it yet. They use type up to about one inch and after that
they get afraid.

I hope that in describing the spirit of the English Press I do not seem
to be writing with any personal bitterness. I admit that there might be
a certain reason for such a bias. During my stay in England I was most
anxious to appear as a contributor to some of the leading papers. This
is, with the English, a thing that always adds prestige. To be able to
call oneself a "contributor" to the Times or to Punch or the Morning
Post or the Spectator, is a high honour. I have met these "contributors"
all over the British Empire. Some, I admit, look strange. An ancient
wreck in the back bar of an Ontario tavern (ancient regime) has told
me that he was a contributor to the Times: the janitor of the building
where I lived admits that he is a contributor to Punch: a man arrested