Word: pencilers
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Dreiser's report of the Wilkes-Barre trial last week likewise was an indictment of the "system." And, like the novel, his accounts were turgid, myopic, verbose, sorely needing the astringent blue pencil of a copy desk. He seemed to be arguing that had the boy had more money, he would not have got himself or his girl into trouble. Clearest point: "I am inclined to agree with the French that crimes which concern love and passion and the ambition of youth are nothing which the law, in its cold, calculating and in the main commercial mood, should have anything...
...Century and has been president for the last 30 years. A conservative. Vandyke-bearded gentleman of a very old business school, Sir Douglas never used to publish any annual report at all. If a stockholder wanted to find out how his company was doing, he had to take pad & pencil to the meeting where the report was read-usually so rapidly that no one could understand it. From Sir Douglas' grudging remarks, a stockholder usually gathered the impression that, what with rising taxes and general social unrest, the outlook for the sewing machine business was practically hopeless...
...hundred and eight convicts escaped from North Carolina prisons and prison camps last month. Each day into the office of the Durham Herald-Sun ticked A. P. dispatches from Raleigh naming the runaways, giving details. For 24 July days Telegraph Editor John R. Barry bit his pencil for a new headline to put over such repetitious news. By the 25th he gave up and subheaded "TODAY'S ESCAPES" over the Raleigh dispatch. By last week "TODAY'S ESCAPES" had become one of the most familiar standing heads in the Herald-Sim. Under it last week was chronicled...
Midinettes and Vendeuses consider it a privilege to work in her house, though she is often autocratic, impatient and hasty. She arrives promptly at 10 o'clock, opens and answers every letter herself, signs every check. She can design gowns with pencil and shears but more often puts them together in her head while driving in a motorcar. At her opening last week, clad in a last season's black crepe dress, she tied each scarf and fastened each belt on the mannequins before they left the cabine. Then she hastily escaped to her studio...
...pulled on his operating gloves, Warden Lawes, under a brilliant, shadowless box light, felt a nurse swabbing the sore thigh with iodine. Another swung a table of instruments handy. A Negro artist serving a life sentence stepped up on a stool near the operating table. He had pad and pencil to picture the entire operation. Dr. Sweet jabbed a local anesthetic into Warden Lawes's leg. The Warden winced. The Surgeon sliced. The Warden felt nothing. The Surgeon clamped blood vessels, sliced some more, reached a fibrous capsule which enclosed the "tumor...