If a new reporter had not absorbed the _Sun_ style, Bogart gently tried to saturate him with it. “I notice,” he said to a man who had covered a little fire the night before, “that you begin your story with ‘at an early hour yesterday morning,’ and that you say also that ‘smoke was seen issuing from an upper window.’” “Isn’t that good English?” asked the young man. “It is excellent English,” Bogart replied calmly, “and it has been indorsed by generations of reporters and copy-readers. If you look in the other papers you will find that some of them also discovered smoke issuing from an upper window at an early hour yesterday morning. We do not deny that it is good English; but it is not good _Sun_ English.” Never again did smoke issue from an upper window of that reporter’s copy. Under Cummings and Bogart the _Sun_ turned out _Sun_ men. A young man from Troy, Franklin Fyles, was one of their first police-station reporters. He did not know as many policemen as did Joseph Josephs, who wore a silk hat and a gambler’s mustache, and who covered the West Side stations, but he wrote well. He did not know as many desperate characters as were honoured with the acquaintance of David Davids, the East Side police reporter, but he knew a _Sun_ story when he saw it. In 1875, five years after Fyles came on the _Sun_, he was the star reporter, and he reported the Beecher trial. Ten thousand words a day in longhand was an easy day’s work for the reports of that great scandal. Fyles became the dramatic critic of the _Sun_ in 1885, and continued as such until 1903. In that period he wrote several plays, including “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” in which David Belasco was his collaborator; “Cumberland ’61,” and “The Governor of Kentucky.” Fyles died in 1911 at the age of 64. Another police-station reporter of the _Sun_ was Edward Payson Weston, who had been an office-boy in various newspaper offices until about the beginning of the Civil War and had then become a reporter. Before Dana bought the _Sun_ Weston had walked from Portland, Maine, to Chicago--thirteen hundred and twenty-six miles--in twenty-six days. Forty years later he walked it in twenty-five days. Cummings liked Weston. Whatever faults there may have been in his literary style, his knee action was a perfect poem. He could bring a story down from the Bellevue morgue faster than all the horse-cars. He was the best “leg man” in the history of journalism. In 1910, more than four decades after the _Sun_ first took him on, Weston, then a man of seventy years, walked from Los Angeles to New York in seventy-seven days. Henry Mann, a Civil War veteran, was the _Sun’s_ principal court reporter. He covered the Tweed and Stokes trials and the impeachment of Judge Barnard. Later he was exchange editor and he is remembered also as the author of “The History of Ancient and Medieval Republics.”