Chapter Three
"He that
saith he abideth in Him ought himself also to walk even as
He walked."
EDWARD NORMAN,
editor Of the Raymond DAILY NEWS, sat in his office room
Monday morning and faced a new world of action. He had made
his pledge in good faith to do everything after asking
"What would Jesus do?" and, as he supposed, with his
eyes open to all the possible results. But as the regular life
of the paper started on another week's rush and whirl of
activity, he confronted it with a degree of hesitation and a
feeling nearly akin to fear.
He had come
down to the office very early, and for a few minutes was by
himself. He sat at his desk in a growing thoughtfulness that
finally became a desire which he knew was as great as it was
unusual. He had yet to learn, with all the others in that
little company pledged to do the Christlike thing, that the
Spirit of Life was moving in power through his own life as
never before. He rose and shut his door, and then did what he
had not done for years. He kneeled down by his desk and prayed
for the Divine Presence and wisdom to direct him.
He rose with
the day before him, and his promise distinct and clear in his
mind. "Now for action," he seemed to say. But he
would be led by events as fast as they came on.
He opened his
door and began the routine of the office work. The managing
editor had just come in and was at his desk in the adjoining
room. One of the reporters there was pounding out something on
a typewriter. Edward Norman began to write an editorial. The
DAILY NEWS was an evening paper, and Norman usually completed
his leading editorial before nine o'clock.
He had been
writing for fifteen minutes when the managing editor called
out: "Here's this press report of yesterday's prize fight
at the Resort. It will make up three columns and a half. I
suppose it all goes in?"
Norman was one
of those newspaper men who keep an eye on every detail of the
paper. The managing editor always consulted his chief in
matters of both small and large importance. Sometimes, as in
this case, it was merely a nominal inquiry.
"Yes--No.
Let me see it."
He took the
type-written matter just as it came from the telegraph editor
and ran over it carefully. Then he laid the sheets down on his
desk and did some very hard thinking.
"We won't
run this today," he said finally.
The managing
editor was standing in the doorway between the two rooms. He
was astounded at his chief's remark, and thought he had
perhaps misunderstood him.
"What did
you say?"
"Leave it
out. We won't use it."
"But
" The managing editor was simply dumbfounded. He stared
at Norman as if the man was out of his mind.
"I don't
think, Clark, that it ought to be printed, and that's the end
of it," said Norman, looking up from his desk.
Clark seldom
had any words with the chief. His word had always been law in
the office and he had seldom been known to change his mind.
The circumstances now, however, seemed to be so extraordinary
that Clark could not help expressing himself.
"Do you
mean that the paper is to go to press without a word of the
prize fight in it?"
"Yes.
That's what I mean."
"But it's
unheard of. All the other papers will print it. What will our
subscribers say? Why, it is simply--" Clark paused,
unable to find words to say what he thought.
Norman looked
at Clark thoughtfully. The managing editor was a member of a
church of a different denomination from that of Norman's. The
two men had never talked together on religious matters
although they had been associated on the paper for several
years.
"Come in
here a minute, Clark, and shut the door," said Norman.
Clark came in
and the two men faced each other alone. Norman did not speak
for a minute. Then he said abruptly: "Clark, if Christ
was editor of a daily paper, do you honestly think He would
print three columns and a half of prize fight in it?"
"No, I
don't suppose He would."
"Well,
that's my only reason for shutting this account out of the
NEWS. I have decided not to do a thing in connection with the
paper for a whole year that I honestly believe Jesus would not
do."
Clark could
not have looked more amazed if the chief had suddenly gone
crazy. In fact, he did think something was wrong, though Mr.
Norman was one of the last men in the world, in his judgment,
to lose his mind.
"What
effect will that have on the paper?" he finally managed
to ask in a faint voice.
"What do
you think?" asked Norman with a keen glance.
"I think
it will simply ruin the paper," replied Clark promptly.
He was gathering up his bewildered senses, and began to
remonstrate, "Why, it isn't feasible to run a paper
nowadays on any such basis. It's too ideal. The world isn't
ready for it. You can't make it pay. Just as sure as you live,
if you shut out this prize fight report you will lose hundreds
of subscribers. It doesn't take a prophet to see that. The
very best people in town are eager to read it. They know it
has taken place, and when they get the paper this evening they
will expect half a page at least. Surely, you can't afford to
disregard the wishes of the public to such an extent. It will
be a great mistake if you do, in my opinion."
Norman sat
silent a minute. Then he spoke gently but firmly.
"Clark,
what in your honest opinion is the right standard for
determining conduct? Is the only right standard for every one,
the probable action of Jesus Christ? Would you say that the
highest, best law for a man to live by was contained in asking
the question, What would Jesus do?' And then doing it
regardless of results? In other words, do you think men
everywhere ought to follow Jesus' example as closely as they
can in their daily lives?" Clark turned red, and moved
uneasily in his chair before he answered the editor's
question.
"Why--yes--I
suppose if you put it on the ground of what men ought to do
there is no other standard of conduct. But the question is,
What is feasible? Is it possible to make it pay? To succeed in
the newspaper business we have got to conform to custom and
the recognized methods of society. We can't do as we would in
an ideal world."
"Do you
mean that we can't run the paper strictly on Christian
principles and make it succeed?"
"Yes,
that's just what I mean. It can't be done. We'll go bankrupt
in thirty days."
Norman did not
reply at once. He was very thoughtful.
"We shall
have occasion to talk this over again, Clark. Meanwhile I
think we ought to understand each other frankly. I have
pledged myself for a year to do everything connected with the
paper after answering the question, What would Jesus do?' as
honestly as possible. I shall continue to do this in the
belief that not only can we succeed but that we can succeed
better than we ever did."
Clark rose.
"The report does not go in?"
"It does
not. There is plenty of good material to take its place, and
you know what it is."
Clark
hesitated. "Are you going to say anything about the
absence of the report?"
"No, let
the paper go to press as if there had been no such thing as a
prize fight yesterday."
Clark walked
out of the room to his own desk feeling as if the bottom had
dropped out of everything. He was astonished, bewildered,
excited and considerably angered. His great respect for Norman
checked his rising indignation and disgust, but with it all
was a feeling of growing wonder at the sudden change of motive
which had entered the office of the DAILY NEWS and threatened,
as he firmly believed, to destroy it.
Before noon
every reporter, pressman and employee on the DAILY NEWS was
informed of the remarkable fact that the paper was going to
press without a word in it about the famous prize fight of
Sunday. The reporters were simply astonished beyond measure at
the announcement of the fact. Every one in the stereotyping
and composing rooms had something to say about the unheard of
omission. Two or three times during the day when Mr. Norman
had occasion to visit the composing rooms the men stopped
their work or glanced around their cases looking at him
curiously. He knew that he was being observed, but said
nothing and did not appear to note it.
There had been
several minor changes in the paper, suggested by the editor,
but nothing marked. He was waiting and thinking deeply.
He felt as if
he needed time and considerable opportunity for the exercise
of his best judgment in several matters before he answered his
ever present question in the right way. It was not because
there were not a great many things in the life of the paper
that were contrary to the spirit of Christ that he did not act
at once, but because he was yet honestly in doubt concerning
what action Jesus would take.
When the DAILY
NEWS came out that evening it carried to its subscribers a
distinct sensation.
The presence
of the report of the prize fight could not have produced
anything equal to the effect of its omission. Hundreds of men
in the hotels and stores down town, as well as regular
subscribers, eagerly opened the paper and searched it through
for the account of the great fight; not finding it, they
rushed to the NEWS stands and bought other papers. Even the
newsboys had not a understood the fact of omission. One of
them was calling out "DAILY NEWS! Full 'count great prize
fight 't Resort. NEWS, sir?"
A man on the
corner of the avenue close by the NEWS office bought the
paper, looked over its front page hurriedly and then angrily
called the boy back.
"Here,
boy! What's the matter with your paper? There's no prize fight
here! What do you mean by selling old papers?"
"Old
papers nuthin'!" replied the boy indignantly. "Dat's
today's paper. What's de matter wid you?"
"But
there is no account of the prize fight here! Look!"
The man handed
back the paper and the boy glanced at k hurriedly. Then he
whistled, while a bewildered look crept over his face. Seeing
another boy running by with papers he called out "Say,
Sam, le'me see your pile." A hasty examination revealed
the remarkable fact that all the copies of the NEWS were
silent on the subject of the prize fight.
"Here,
give me another paper!" shouted the customer; "one
with the prize fight account."
He received it
and walked off, while the two boys remained comparing notes
and lost in wonder at the result. "Sump'n slipped a cog
in the Newsy, sure," said the first boy. But he couldn't
tell why, and ran over to the NEWS office to find out.
There were
several other boys at the delivery room and they were all
excited and disgusted. The amount of slangy remonstrance
hurled at the clerk back of the long counter would have driven
any one else to despair.
He was used to
more or less of it all the time, and consequently hardened to
it. Mr. Norman was just coming downstairs on his way home, and
he paused as he went by the door of the delivery room and
looked in.
"What's
the matter here, George?" he asked the clerk as he noted
the unusual confusion.
"The boys
say they can't sell any copies of the NEWS tonight because the
prize fight isn't in it," replied George, looking
curiously at the editor as so many of the employees had done
during the day. Mr. Norman hesitated a moment, then walked
into the room and confronted the boys.
"How many
papers are there here? Boys, count them out, and I'll buy them
tonight."
There was a
combined stare and a wild counting of papers on the part of
the boys.
"Give
them their money, George, and if any of the other boys come in
with the same complaint buy their unsold copies. Is that
fair?" he asked the boys who were smitten into unusual
silence by the unheard of action on the part of the editor.
"Fair!
Well, I should--But will you keep this up? Will dis be a
continual performance for the benefit of de fraternity?"
Mr. Norman
smiled slightly but he did not think it was necessary to
answer the question.
He walked out
of the office and went home. On the way he could not avoid
that constant query, "Would Jesus have done it?" It
was not so much with reference to this last transaction as to
the entire motive that had urged him on since he had made the
promise.
The newsboys
were necessarily sufferers through the action he had taken.
Why should they lose money by it? They were not to blame. He
was a rich man and could afford to put a little brightness
into their lives if he chose to do it. He believed, as he went
on his way home, that Jesus would have done either what he did
or something similar in order to be free from any possible
feeling of injustice.