〃Brooding　over　love　troubles　which　she　has　hitherto　refused　to　divulge　under　the　most　grilling　fusillade　of　rapid…fire　questions　shot　at　her　by　the　best　brains　of　the　New　York　police　force；　Miss　Mary　De　Forrest；　a　handsome　brunette　thirty…six　inches　around　the　hips；　employed　as　a　parlor　maid　in　the　residence　of　Mr。　Spudd　Bung；　a　well…known　clubman　forty…two　inches　around　the　chest；　was　arrested　yesterday　by　the　flying　squad　of　the　emergency　police　after　having；　so　it　is　alleged；　put　four　ounces　of　alleged　picrate　of　potash　into　the　alleged　coffee　of　her　employer's　family's　alleged　breakfast　at　their　residence　on　Hudson　Heights　in　the　most　fashionable　quarter　of　the　metropolis。　Dr。　Slink；　the　leading　fashionable　practitioner　of　the　neighbourhood　who　was　immediately　summoned　said　that　but　for　his　own　extraordinary　dexterity　and　promptness　the　death　of　the　whole　family；　if　not　of　the　entire　entourage；　was　a　certainty。　The　magistrate　in　committing　Miss　De　Forrest　for　trial　took　occasion　to　enlarge　upon　her　youth　and　attractive　appearance：　he　castigated　the　moving　pictures　severely　and　said　that　he　held　them　together　with　the　public　school　system　and　the　present　method　of　doing　the　hair；　directly　responsible　for　the　crimes　of　the　kind　alleged。〃
  Now　when　you　read　this　over　you　begin　to　feel　that　something　big　has　happened。　Here　is　a　man　like　Dr。　Slink；　all　quivering　with　promptness　and　dexterity。　Here　is　an　inserted　picture；　a　photograph；　a　brick　house　in　a　row　marked　with　a　cross　（＋）　and　labelled　〃The　Bung　Residence　as。　it　appeared　immediately　after　the　alleged　outrage。〃　It　isn't　really。　It　is　just　a　photograph　that　we　use　for　this　sort　of　thing　and　have　grown　to　like。　It　is　called　sometimes：〃Residence　of　Senator　Borah〃　or　〃Scene　of　the　Recent　Spiritualistic　Manifestations〃　or　anything　of　the　sort。　As　long　as　it　is　marked　with　a　cross　（＋）　the　reader　will　look　at　it　with　interest。
  In　other　words　we　make　something　out　of　an　occurrence　like　this。　It　doesn't　matter　if　it　all　fades　out　afterwards　when　it　appears　that　Mary　De　Forrest　merely　put　ground　allspice　into　the　coffee　in　mistake　for　powdered　sugar　and　that　the　family　didn't　drink　it　anyway。　The　reader　has　already　turned　to　other　mysteries。
  But　contrast　the　pitifully　tame　way　in　which　the　same　event　is　written　up　in　England。　Here　it　is：
  SUBURBAN　ITEM
  〃Yesterday　at　the　police　court　of　Surbiton…on…Thames　Mary　Forrester；　a　servant　in　the　employ　of　Mr。　S。　Bung　was　taken　into　custody　on　a　charge　of　having　put　a　noxious　preparation；　possibly　poison；　into　the　coffee　of　her　employer's　family。　The　young　woman　was　remanded　for　a　week。〃
  Look　at　that。　Mary　Forrester　a　servant？
  How　wide　was　she　round　the　chest？　It　doesn't　say。　Mr。　S。　Bung？　Of　what　club　was　he　a　member？　None；　apparently。　Then　who　cares　if　he　is　poisoned？　And　〃the　young　woman！〃　What　a　way　to　speak　of　a　decent　girl　who　never　did　any　other　harm　than　to　poison　a　club　man。　And　the　English　magistrate！　What　a　tame　part　he　must　have　played：　his　name　indeed　doesn't　occur　at　all：　apparently　he　didn't　enlarge　on　the　girl's　good　looks；　or　〃comment　on　her　attractive　appearance；〃　or　anything。　I　don't　suppose　that　he　even　asked　Mary　Forrester　out　to　lunch　with　him。
  Notice　also　that；　according　to　the　English　way　of　writing　the　thing　up；　as　soon　as　the　girl　was　remanded　for　a　week　the　incident　is　closed。　The　English　reporter　doesn't　apparently　know　enough　to　follow　Miss　De　Forrest　to　her　home　（called　〃the　De　Forrest　Residence〃　and　marked　with　a　cross；　＋）　。　The　American　reporter　would　make　certain　to　supplement　what　went　above　with　further　information　of　this　fashion。　〃Miss　De　Forrest　when　seen　later　at　her　own　home　by　a　representative　of　The　Eagle　said　that　she　regretted　very　much　having　been　put　to　the　necessity　of　poisoning　Mr。　Bung。　She　had　in　the　personal　sense　nothing　against　Mr。　Bung　and　apart　from　poisoning　him　she　had　every　respect　for　Mr。　Bung。　Miss　De　Forrest；　who　talks　admirably　on　a　variety　of　topics；　expressed　herself　as　warmly　in　favour　of　the　League　of　Nations　and　as　a　devotee　of　the　short　ballot　and　proportional　representation。〃
  Any　American　reader　who　studies　the　English　Press　comes　upon　these　wasted　opportunities　every　day。　There　are　indeed　certain　journals　of　a　newer　type　which　are　doing　their　best　to　imitate　us。　But　they　don't　really　get　it　yet。　They　use　type　up　to　about　one　inch　and　after　that　they　get　afraid。
  I　hope　that　in　describing　the　spirit　of　the　English　Press　I　do　not　seem　to　be　writing　with　any　personal　bitterness。　I　admit　that　there　might　be　a　certain　reason　for　such　a　bias。　During　my　stay　in　England　I　was　most　anxious　to　appear　as　a　contributor　to　some　of　the　leading　papers。　This　is；　with　the　English；　a　thing　that　always　adds　prestige。　To　be　able　to　call　oneself　a　〃contributor〃　to　the　Times　or　to　Punch　or　the　Morning　Post　or　the　Spectator；　is　a　high　honour。　I　have　met　these　〃contributors〃　all　over　the　British　Empire。　Some；　I　admit；　look　strange。　An　ancient　wreck　in　the　back　bar　of　an　Ontario　tavern　（ancient　regime）　has　told　me　that　he　was　a　contributor　to　the　Times：　the　janitor　of　the　building　where　I　lived　admits　that　he　is　a　contributor　to　Punch：　a　man　arrested　in　Bristol　for　vagrancy　while　I　was　in　England　pleaded　that　he　was　a　contributor　to　the　Spectator。　In　fact；　it　is　an　honour　that　everybody　seems　to　be　able　to　get　but　me。
  I　had　often　tried　before　I　went　to　England　to　contribute　to　the　great　English　newspapers。　I　had　never　succeeded。　But　I　hoped　that　while　in　England　itself　the　very　propinquity　of　the　atmosphere；　I　mean　the　very　contiguity　of　the　surroundings；　would　render　the　attempt　easier。　I　tried　and　I　failed。　My　failure　was　all　the　more　ignominious　in　that　I　had　very　direct　personal　encouragement。　〃By　all　means；〃　said　the　editor　of　the　London　Times；　〃do　some　thing　for　us　while　you　are　here。　Best　of　all；　do　something　in　a　political　way；　that's　rather　our　special　line。〃　I　had　already　received　almost　an　identical　encouragement　from　the　London　Morning　Post；　and　in　a　more　qualified　way　from　the　Manchester　Guardian。　In　short；　success　seemed　easy。
  I　decided　therefore　to　take　some　simple　political　event　of　the　peculiar　kind　that　always　makes　a　stir　in　English　politics　and　write　it　up　for　these　English　papers。　To　simplify　matters　I　thought　it　better　to　use　one　and　the　same　incident　and　write　it　up　in　three　different　ways　and　get　paid　for　it　three；　times。　All　of　those　who　write　for　the　Press　will　understand　the　motive　at　once。　I　waited　therefore　and　watched　the　papers　to　see　if　anything　interesting　might　happen　to　the　Ahkoond　of　Swat　or　the　Sandjak　of　Novi　Bazar　or　any　other　native　potentate。　Within　a　couple　of　days　I　got　what　I　wanted　in　the　following　item；　which　I　need　hardly　say　is　taken　word　for　word　from　the　Press　despatches：
  〃Perim；　via　Bombay。　News　comes　by　messenger　that　the　Shriek　of　Kowfat　who　has　been　living　under　the　convention　of　1898　has　violated　the　modus　operandi。　He　is　said　to　have　torn　off　his　suspenders；　dipped　himself　in　oil　and　proclaimed　a　Jehad。　The　situation　is　critical。〃
  Everybody　who　knows　England　knows　that　this　is　just　the　kind　of　news　that　the　English　love。　On　our　side　of　the　Atlantic　we　should　be　bothered　by　the　fact　that　we　did　not　know　where　Kowfat　is；　nor　what　was　the　convention　of　1898。　They　are　not。　They　just　take　it　for　granted　that　Kowfat　is　one　of　the　many　thousand　places　that　they　〃own；〃　somewhere　in　the　outer　darkness。　They　have　so　many　Kowfats　that　they　cannot　keep　track　of　them。
  I　knew　therefore　that　everybody　would　be　interested　in　any　discussion　of　what　was　at　once　called　〃the　Kowfat　Crisis〃　and　I　wrote　it　up。　　I　resisted　the　temptation　to　begin　after　the　American　fashion；　〃Shriek　sheds　suspenders；〃　and　suited　the　writing；　as　I　thought；　to　the　market　I　was　writing　for。　I　wrote　up　the　incident　for　the　Morning　Post　after　the　following　fashion：
  〃The　news　from　Kowfat　affords　one　more　instance　of　a　painful　back…down　on　the　part　of　the　Government。　Our　policy　of　spineless　supineness　is　now　reaping　its　inevitable　reward。　To　us　there　is　only　one　thing　to　be　done。　If　the　Shriek　has　torn　off　his　suspenders　he　must　be　made　to　put　them　on　again。　We　have　always　held　that　where　the　imperial　prestige　of　this　country　is　concerned　there　is　no　room　for　hesitation。　In　the　present　instance　our　prestige　is　at　stake：　the　matter　involves　our　reputation　in　the　eyes　of　the　surrounding　natives；　the　Bantu　Hottentots；　the　Negritos；　the　Dwarf　Men　of　East　Abyssinia；　and　the　Dog　Men　of　Darfur。　What　will　they　think　of　us？　If　we　fail　in　this　crisis　their　notion　of　us　will　fall　fifty　per　cent。　In　our　opinion　this　country　cannot　stand　a　fifty　per　cent　drop　in　the　estimation　of　the　Dog　Men。　The　time　is　one　that　demands　action。　An　ultimatum　should　be　sent　at　once　to　the　Shriek　of　Kowfat。　If　he　has　one　already　we　should　send　him　another。　He　should　be　made　at　once　to　put　on　his　suspenders。　The　oil　must　be　scraped　off　him；　and　he　must　be　told　plainly　that　if　a　pup　like　him　tries　to　start　a　Jehad　he　will　have　to　deal　with　the　British　Navy。　We　call　the　Shriek　a　pup　in　no　sense　of　belittling　him　as　our　imperial　ally　but　because　we　consider　that　the　present　is　no　time　for　half　words　and　we　do　not　regard　pup　as　half　a　word。　Events　such　as　the　present；　rocking　the　Empire　to　i