c is unquestionable. The
editor keeps awake nearly all night to serve it, and the facts are not
altered because in best serving the public he serves himself.

Journalism, I regret to say, is often spoken of as a "profession," and
while we may accept the plebeian word "journalism," as describing a
daily labor, I sincerely desire to enter a protest against its
designation as a profession. It seems entirely proper to me that this
word be relegated to the pedagogue, the chiropodist, and the
barn-storming actor who so boldly assert a right to its use.

The making of the newspaper is a mechanical art. It matters very little
how much intelligence--or genius, if you prefer the word--enters into
its production, the inter-dependence of the so-called "intellectual"
branch of the paper upon its mechanical adjuncts is so great that it
cannot be maintained that the manufactured article offered to purchasers
in the shape of a newspaper is the product of any one lobe of brain
tissue. Of what value are a hundred thousand copies of the best
newspaper in this land, edited, revised and printed, if its circulation
department break down at the critical moment? And what about the
newsman? Who shall say that he does not belong to journalism? He's to
the service what the Don Cossack is to the Russian hosts. He's the
Cossack of journalism--our Cossack of the dawn!

While it is easy to determine the point at which the newspaper begins
its existence, it would be very difficult indeed to decide exactly where
it receives its finishing touches. For years, geographers wrangled
regarding the point at which the day began. In other words, this being
Monday, they quarrelled regarding the point at which the sun ceased to
shine on Monday, and began to shine on Tuesday.

Philosophers who have discussed the nice points of the daily newspapers
have claimed that it dates its origin from the paper mill; but I fail to
see why, if we are to go back to the paper mill, we shall not go much
further and seek the component parts from which the paper is originally
made, showing at once the absurdity of any such an assumption. While not
inclined to argue this point, it is my humble judgment that the
newspaper begins its existence the moment the managing editor opens his
desk for the day's work. He is its main-spring! Whatever of distinctive
character it possesses in methods of handling the news of the day it
owes to him, and it is these very features that render one j