The Press: The Last Puritan

When evening quickens faintly in the street,

Wakening the appetites of life in some

And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,

I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning

Wearily, as one would turn to nod goodbye to Rochefoucauld,

If the street were time and he at the end of the street,

And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."

—T. S. Eliot

Ripe in years, withered, but impeccably preserved in the traditions of the late George Apley, the Boston Evening Transcript this week hovered near death's door. Last hope was that Bostonians could...