When I was down at home for a little while a few years ago, I met a wave of boys and girls who shared an ambition -- they all hoped to become journalists.

I have long been slow to give advice, because since I was able to speak and listen, I have been inundated with it -- and most of it was bad. And so I didn't encourage or discourage those young people who hoped to enter the world of sound or print or sight.

However, I did give them some practical advice, much of which I have given already in magazines and newspapers.

For a start, whether in sound or in print, you should get a fair grasp of the elements of language. By that I mean grammar and syntax: the basic rules are much the same for English and Gaelic -- and for most European languages.

English differs from most languages in having the apostrophe, an innocent little squiggle of great importance -- but which most people cannot use correctly. Margaret Barry, the great ballad singer, used to say that she never married because she didn't meet a man who could drink with her; maybe I never married because I couldn't find a woman who understood the apostrophe. That is another story: let us discuss grammar, a word that generally includes syntax.

About a generation ago the wise people who govern education in our neighbouring island initiated a revolution. They decided that grammar was a kind of shackle on language; people should be allowed to express themselves. It sounded grand and liberal: freedom of expression was the mantra. There was a catch: you cannot express yourself unless you understand the laws of language.

Our mandarins followed the example of their English counterparts: grammar was downgraded in the school curriculum. The result was chaos. Any boy or girl who wishes to become a journalist in print or on sound should acquire the elements of grammar.

Nesfield's was the textbook out of which several generations of Irish people learned the elements of language. As far as I know, it is long out of print. I doubt if you can get it in a second-hand bookshop or even a third-hand bookshop. However, all is not lost: in 1998 a brave man called Robert Mohr brought out a book called How To Write: Tools For The Craft. It is published by University College Dublin Press. You could do worse than get it.

If you put your mind to the task, you should be reasonably competent in about six months. Believe me, it will be worth the effort. And while all this is going on, build up your vocabulary. Get two dictionaries -- one to keep at home and one to keep in your pocket. Whenever you meet a new word, shake salt on its tail -- put a mark by its side in your dictionary.

While you are working at your grammar and your vocabulary, you are probably looking for a job in journalism. Sometimes you can be lucky -- but generally it isn't easy. I will tell you about how jackdaws make their nest: the metaphor will help.

The couple pick out a good site -- usually a chimney no longer in use -- and drop down sticks until they take hold in the crevices and form a foundation. The budding journalist may spend a long time dropping down sticks -- perseverance is necessary.

The budding journalist should take the first job that comes along, even if it is with The Beekeepers' Monthly or The Donnybrook Democrat. Even with those modest papers you will gain experience and you will learn to work with sub-editors. Some people say that sub-editors destroy good copy and steal home in the dark but that isn't true at all. They are good people who make untidy copy correct and readable.

Journalism is a comparatively new profession. Historians of the craft will tell you that its best years were in America in the second half of the 19th century. Little expeditions set out from the East Coast, consisting of a journalist, a printer and a boy to make the coffee and go for the sandwiches -- the doughnut hadn't yet been invented.

The journalist was the boss: he settled in some town that hadn't a paper and rented a room. Usually he began in The Tame West and eventually ventured into The Wild West. There he really came into his own.

We all love the image of the editor behind his desk with a Colt 38 on his right hand side and a bottle of whisky on his left. Journalism today isn't as romantic or as dramatic, as the apprentice to the craft will quickly find out.

Red Smith, the famous American sports writer, has told the tale of his first assignment. After a long time pleading for work from various newspapers, he was sent to cover a baseball game in upstate New York. His 1,000 breathless words came out as 300 but with his name -- and he got paid -- and bought a second-hand typewriter. The rest is fable.

Here now is my most important piece of advice: whether you are writing for a tabloid or a broadsheet or a freesheet, always write at your best. Don't lower your standards. Always think of your closest friends as your readers -- write with them in your mind.

Journalism can be a rough and dirty business. Some people used to call Fleet Street The Street Of Adventure: other people called it The Street Of Shame.

Of course the profession is not free from backbiting and frontbiting and begrudgery but there are good apples in every barrel. Don't allow yourself be dragged down. Journalism is essentially a noble profession -- be proud of it.

There is another very famous book called The Elements Of Style by JB Strunk. It is not really for beginners but when you have a good foundation acquired, you will benefit from it. Some of the advice may seem eccentric but that shouldn't surprise you -- the author is American.

Fogra: My dear departed colleague, Joe MacAuley, would have been proud last week: Donal brought in the winner of the last race at Sligo on Thursday and Bridget's two entries did well at The Horse Show in Ballsbridge

- Con Houlihan