Part 7 (1/2)

After killing Mrs. Benton, Wallace, and the Weston

boy, Carlton set fire to the Lewis ”love bungalow.”

The wounded were unable to care for themselves. They

narrowly escaped death in the burning building.

Arrival of rescuing parties attracted by the fire

alone saved their lives.

A hatchet was the weapon used by Carlton.

The slayer escaped after the wholesale murder. He is

thought to be headed for Chicago. A posse under

command of Sheriff Bauer of Spring Green is hunting

the man.

The story of the terrible tragedy enacted in the

Lewis ”love bungalow,” where for some years the

celebrated sculptor and the former Mrs. Cross had

been living in open defiance of the

conventionalities, was a gruesome one as it came to

light to-day.

Carlton is twenty-eight years old. He is married.

His wife lived with him at the Lewis home. He had

been employed by Lewis for six months. He was

formerly employed by John Z. Hobart, proprietor of

Hobart's restaurant. He is five feet eight inches

tall, of medium build and light in color.

What caused the trouble or the fury of Carlton is

not known.

Who first fell is not known.

What is known of the tragedy is this:

Shortly after noon to-day villagers in the little

village of Spring Valley, where the Lewis bungalow

is and always has been something of a mystery as

well as a wonder to the residents, saw smoke coming

from the ”love bungalow” on the hills. Villagers ran

to the place. The fire department responded to the

alarm.

The bungalow was rapidly being consumed. Some one

entered the house. It was a shambles. Mrs. Benton

was found dead. Wallace was dead. Both had been

literally chopped to pieces by the infuriated negro.

The bungalow was barricaded before entrance was

forced. After the dead had been discovered the

wounded were found. They were dragged out. The

conscious told disjointed stories of the tragedy and

of the awful fury that seemed to possess Carlton,

the cook.

The latter was not to be found. He was at first

thought to have taken to the hills. Later it was

thought he might be hiding in the underground root

cellar but no search lights were available.

Men with guns surrounded the house.

The negro will be lynched if he is found, it was

thought this afternoon.[17]

[17] _Chicago American._

=134. Bing-Bing-Bing Style.=--On the whole, this bing-bing-bing style of writing cannot be commended. Its value in rapid narrative, where excitement prevails and the reader's emotions are greatly aroused, is evident. But the style, indulged in too freely, produces a fitful, choppy effect that is not good. The sentences should be longer and more varied in construction. Examination of the preceding ill.u.s.tration shows that it has only three words or phrases used for subconnection, and only four complex sentences.

=135. Emphasis.=--Next to clearness in holding the interest of the reader comes emphasis, which may be had by avoidance of vague literary phrasing, by a due regard for tone in the story, and by condensation of expression. The first two overlap, since the whole tone of a story may easily be destroyed by an affectation of literary phraseology. These two, therefore, may be considered together.

=136. Vague Literary Phrasing.=--Many cub reporters feel, when they begin to write, that they must express themselves in a literary style, and to gain that style they affect sonorous, grandiloquent phrases that sound well but mean little. In nine cases out of ten these phrases are the inventions of others and meant much as used in their original connection. But as adopted now by a novice, they are vague, only hazily expressive, lacking in that sharp precision necessary for forceful presentation of news.

=137. Tone.=--It is this vagueness of expression that as often as not destroys the tone of the story. One may be aiming at portraying the dignity and simplicity of a wedding or the unmarred happiness of the occasion, but if one attempts to equal the joy of the event with the bigness of his words, one will produce upon the reader an effect of revulsion rather than interest. An ignorant, but well-meaning, reporter on an Eastern weekly concluded a wedding story with the following sentences:

After the union of Miss Petty and Mr. Meydam in the

holy bonds of wedlock, the beautiful bride and

handsome groom and all the knights and ladies

present repaired to the dining-room, where a

bounteous supper interspersed with mirth and song

awaited them. After which they tripped the light

fantastic toe until the wee small hours of the

morning, when all repaired to their beds of rest and

wrapt themselves in the arms of Morpheus.

This selection happens to be a conglomeration mainly of worn-out expressions current in literature for the past two or three centuries.

But any use of phrases too large or too emotional for the thought to be conveyed will result in an equally dismal failure. All the words, phrases, and ideas in the following are the writer's own, but the effect is practically the same as in the preceding story:

The scene and the occasion were both inspiring. The

music was furnished by the birds, which were at

their best on this bridal day. A meadowlark called

to his mate across the lake, asking if he might come

and join her. A brown thrush in a tree on the hill

near by sent forth across the water a carol full of

love and melody such as a Beethoven or a Chopin

would strive in vain to imitate. The hills were

dressed in their prettiest robes of green. The water

was quiet. Nature was at her best. And the bride and