he society notes of the paper:

"It is rumored that a card party was given yesterday by a number of
reputed ladies. Mrs. Smith, gossip says, was hostess. It is alleged
that the guests with the exception of Mrs. Bellinger, who says she
hails from Leavitt's Junction, were all from here. Mrs. Smith claims
to be the wife of Archibald Smith, the so-called 'Honest Man' trading
on Key Street."

And when the editor had read the report a whirling mass claiming to
be the reporter was projected through the window and struck the street
with a dull thud.

REPORTER--"Madam, you may recollect that we printed yesterday
your denial of having retracted the contradiction of your original
statement. Would you care to have us say that you were misquoted in
regard to it."--_Life_.

As any reporter will tell you, the only place in a newspaper office
where real toil is done is the city room. Imagine our pleasure when
we overheard one of the office boys saying: "When I first came here I
thought it was called the 'sitting room.' I said something about the
sitting room one day to the city editor, and I thought he was going to
throw me down the elevator shaft."

"Can you make anything out of the news from Europe?"

"Easiest thing in the world. I only read the newspapers every other
day. In this way I get a connected story of our side or the other and
avoid the denials."--_Puck_.

ENGLISH NEWSIE (selling extras)--"Better 'ave one and read about it
now, sir; it might be contradicted in the morning."--_Punch_.

The reporter was sent to write up a charity ball. His copy came in
late and it was careless. The editor reproved him the next day by
quoting an extract:

"Look here, Scribbler, what do you mean by this, 'Among the most
beautiful girls was Alderman Horatio Dingley'? Old Dingley ain't a
girl, you idiot! He's one of our principal shareholders."

"I can't help that," returned the realistic reporter, "that's where he
was."

When Earth's last paper is finished and the type is scrambled and
pied,
When the roar of the press becomes fainter and sheets are folded
and dried;
We shall rest, and Faith, we shall need it, for the way has been
weary and long,
And oft have we heard that chestnut, "Young man, you have quoted
me wrong."

The cub reporter was grinding out a marriage notice. Finally he
brought it up and laid it on the city editor's desk:

"Mr. and Mrs. Blank announce