The Sub-Editor. 67 generally a larger staff and better organization than exists in the provincial newspaper office ; but as the work in the country is more diversified and arduous it may be taken for description by preference. Let us accompany a sub-editor in his night's work in one of the large provincial newspaper offices. For the sake of the illustration, we will assume that our typical sub- editor for this night only does all the sub-editorial work, though this it will be understood would be a physical impos- sibility, and a staff of sub-editors, more or less adequate to the work, performs the task which we have allotted to one. We enter the office then with our friend the night sub- editor somewhat early in the evening, say about seven o'clock, or at any rate sometime before the printers arrive for their night's work. Our sub-editor at once takes his seat at his desk, which is lighted by a gas lamp with an immense green shade giving an uncanny appearance to the apartment. As we watch at our sub-editorial friend's elbow, we are confirmed in the belief that there is some magnetic power of attraction about him. A few scattered sheets of manu- script, a few letters, and some stray telegrams litter the desk when he takes his seat These have perhaps been left by the day sub-editor on going off duty. Whether this is so or not, a hasty survey shows which are of any importance for the work our friend has in hand ; and those which are not speedily find their way to the waste paper basket, while the sub-editor is adjusting his spectacles, getting out his scissors, and putting a point to his blue pencil. Now we begin to notice his magnetic influence ; all the news of the world seems to be attracted to him. A shoal of large envelopes, containing all sorts of copy, flut- ters down on his desk from the nearest railway stations, and, before he has opened them^, a steady shower of telegra- phic messages has set in, the familiar buff envelopes fol-