Since newspapers came into existence there have been people who complained about the paucity of their news supply - during the Franco-Prussian war of 1870 the Illustrated London News revealed its cognisance of the fact by entitling its regular column of gossip "Nothing in the Papers." To-day the same type of person may be heard lamenting that "there's nothing in the papers but the war." This, like the premature report of Mark Twain's death, is "a gross exaggeration." Reports of the war and the international situation naturally must bulk largely in the news columns - and the people who complain of a preponderance would be the first to complain of a diminution - but, so far as is possible, the general news supply is maintained. The fact remains, however, that, inasmuch as the war affects in some degree almost every phase of life at the moment, references to the conflict are continually popping up in the most unexpected quarters, and it is virtually impossible to get away from it. In these circumstances, a well known Dublin professional man has admitted that he turns for relaxation to those other pages which contain what are termed in advertising parlance the "small pre-paids." Here, in the serried columns where, for a few shillings, Mr Everyman can tell the world what he has to offer, or of what he stands in need, one sees the normal current of life flowing on smoothly as in the piping times of peace.
The Irish Times, September 30th, 1939.