Elizabeth Garver Jordan,
Tales of the City Room — Mrs. Ogilvie's Local Color
(1898)
“ The city editor had received a little note from Mrs. Ogilvie, begging him to let her work on without interruption, "for work," she ended, "will be my only refuge now." He had sent her several assignments with journalistic promptness, and with a letter full of almost human sympathy. He thought of her suddenly one evening as he looked at the head of her arch-enemy, Hunt, the copy-reader, bent over a story of hers which he had given him to rewrite. "We want good stuff out of this," he had said, without glancing it over; "whip it into shape, old man, and make the very best of it. ”
