The Building of a Book
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Title: The Building of a Book
Editor: Frederick H. Hitchcock
Commentator: Theodore Low De Vinne
Release date: December 6, 2007 [eBook #23754]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23754
Credits: Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Christine P.
Travers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUILDING OF A BOOK ***
Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Christine P.
Travers and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all
other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling has
been maintained.]
THE BUILDING OF A BOOK
A SERIES OF PRACTICAL ARTICLES
WRITTEN BY EXPERTS IN THE VARIOUS
DEPARTMENTS OF BOOK MAKING AND DISTRIBUTING
WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY THEODORE L. DE VINNE
EDITED BY
FREDERICK H. HITCHCOCK
[Illustration: Editor's arm.]
THE GRAFTON PRESS
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
Copyright, 1906,
By THE GRAFTON PRESS.
Published December, 1906.
DEDICATED
TO READERS AND LOVERS
OF BOOKS THROUGHOUT
THE COUNTRY
FOREWORD
"The Building of a Book" had its origin in the wish to give practical,
non-technical information to readers and lovers of books. I hope it
will also be interesting and valuable to those persons who are
actually engaged in book making and selling.
All of the contributors are experts in their respective departments,
and hence write with authority. I am exceedingly grateful to them for
their very generous efforts to make the book a success.
THE EDITOR.
ARTICLES AND CONTRIBUTORS
Page
INTRODUCTION 1
By THEODORE L. DE VINNE, of Theodore L.
De Vinne & Company, Printers, New York.
THE AUTHOR 4
By GEORGE W. CABLE, Author of "Grandissimes,"
"The Cavalier," and other books. Resident of
Northampton, Massachusetts.
THE LITERARY AGENT 9
By PAUL R. REYNOLDS, Literary Agent, New York,
representing several English publishing houses and
American authors.
THE LITERARY ADVISER 16
By FRANCIS W. HALSEY, formerly Editor of the
_New York Times Saturday Review of Books_, and
literary adviser for D. Appleton & Company. Now
literary adviser for Funk & Wagnalls Company, New York.
THE MANUFACTURING DEPARTMENT 25
By LAWTON L. WALTON, in charge of the
manufacturing department of The Macmillan Company,
Publishers, New York.
THE MAKING OF TYPE 31
By L. BOYD BENTON, Mechanical Manager of the
Jersey City factory of the American Type Founders'
Company.
HAND COMPOSITION AND ELECTROTYPING 41
By J. STEARNS CUSHING, of J. S. Cushing &
Company, Norwood, Massachusetts, one of the three
concerns forming the Norwood Press.
COMPOSITION BY THE LINOTYPE MACHINE 53
By FREDERICK J. WARBURTON, Treasurer of the
Mergenthaler Linotype Machine Company.
COMPOSITION BY THE MONOTYPE MACHINE 66
By PAUL NATHAN, a member of Wood & Nathan,
New York, selling agents for the Lanston Monotype
Machine.
PROOF-READING 77
By GEORGE L. MILLER, with the Charles Francis
Press, New York.
PAPER MAKING 89
By HERBERT W. MASON, of S. D. Warren & Company,
Paper Makers, Boston, Massachusetts.
PRESSWORK 99
By WALTER J. BERWICK, of Berwick & Smith
Company, Norwood, Massachusetts, one of the three
concerns constituting the Norwood Press.
THE PRINTING PRESS 112
By OTTO L. RAABE, with R. Hoe & Company, New
York, Printing Press Manufacturers.
PRINTING INK 139
By JAMES A. ULLMAN, of Sigmund Ullman Company,
Ink Makers, New York.
THE PRINTER'S ROLLER 144
By ALBERT S. BURLINGHAM, President of the
National Roller Company, New York.
THE ILLUSTRATOR 154
By CHARLES D. WILLIAMS, Artist, New York.
HALF-TONE, LINE, AND COLOR PLATES 164
By EMLYN M. GILL, President of the Gill
Engraving Company, New York.
THE WAX PROCESS 176
By ROBERT D. SERVOSS, Engraver of maps,
etc., by the wax process, New York.
MAKING INTAGLIO PLATES 180
By ELMER LATHAM, Manager of the mechanical
department of M. Kramer & Company, Photogravure
Makers, Brooklyn, New York.
PRINTING INTAGLIO PLATES 190
By GEORGE W. H. RITCHIE, Printer of
photogravure plates, etchings, etc., New York.
THE GELATINE PROCESS 198
By EMIL JACOBI, Manager of the factory
of the Campbell Art Company, New York, and
Elizabeth, New Jersey.
LITHOGRAPHY 204
By CHARLES WILHELMS, late of
Sackett-Wilhelms Lithographing and Printing
Company, Brooklyn, New York.
COVER DESIGNING 216
By AMY RICHARDS, Artist, New York, her
specialty being cover designs.
THE COVER STAMPS 221
By GEORGE BECKER, of Becker Brothers
Company, Die Cutters, New York.
BOOK CLOTHS 226
By HENRY P. KENDALL, of the Holliston Mills,
Book Cloth Manufacturers, Norwood, Massachusetts.
BOOK LEATHERS 234
By ELLERY C. BARTLETT, of Louis Dejonge &
Company, Dressers and Importers of Book Leathers,
New York.
THE BINDING 237
By JESSE FELLOWES TAPLEY, President of
J. F. Tapley Company, Binders, New York.
SPECIAL BINDINGS 248
By HENRY BLACKWELL, Fine Binder, New York.
COPYRIGHTING 257
By FREDERICK H. HITCHCOCK, Member of the
New York Bar; President of The Grafton Press,
Publishers, New York.
PUBLICITY 269
By VIVIAN BURNETT, formerly in charge of
the Publicity Department of McClure, Phillips
& Company, Publishers, New York.
REVIEWING AND CRITICISING 292
By WALTER LITTLEFIELD, a Member of the Staff
of the _New York Times Saturday Review of Books_,
and literary correspondent of the _Chicago
Record-Herald_, and other papers.
THE TRAVELLING SALESMAN 303
By HARRY A. THOMPSON, formerly representing
John Lane, and Small, Maynard & Company, Publishers.
Now one of the Associate Editors of the _Saturday
Evening Post_, Philadelphia.
SELLING AT WHOLESALE 320
By JOSEPH E. BRAY, formerly with A. C.
McClurg & Company, Wholesalers, Chicago. Now with
the Outing Publishing Company, New York.
SELLING AT RETAIL 328
By WARREN SNYDER, Manager of the Book Stores
of John Wanamaker, Philadelphia and New York.
SELLING BY SUBSCRIPTION 339
By CHARLES S. OLCOTT, Manager of the
Subscription Department of Messrs. Houghton,
Mifflin & Company, New York.
SELLING AT AUCTION 350
By JOHN ANDERSON, Jr., President of the
Anderson Auction Company, New York.
SELECTING FOR A PUBLIC LIBRARY 362
By ARTHUR E. BOSTWICK, Chief of the
Circulation Department of the New York Public Library.
RARE AND SECOND-HAND BOOKS 370
By CHARLES E. GOODSPEED, Dealer in Rare and
Second-hand Books, Boston.
THE BUILDING OF A BOOK
INTRODUCTION
By Theodore L. De Vinne.
To the hasty observer printing seems the simplest of arts or crafts.
The small boy who has been taught to spell can readily arrange
lettered blocks of wood in readable words, and that arrangement is
rated by many as the great feature of printing. With his toy
printing-press he can stamp paper upon inked type in so deft a manner
that admiring friends may say the print is good enough for anybody.
The elementary processes of printing are indeed so simple that they
might have justified Dogberry in adding typography to the
accomplishments of the "reading and writing that come by nature." With
this delusion comes the desire for amateur performance. Men who would
not undertake to make a coat or a pair of shoes are confident of their
ability to make or to direct the making of a book.
In real practice this apparent simplicity disappears. Commercial
printing is never done quickly or cheaply by amateur methods. The
printing-house that undertakes to print miscellaneous books for
publishers must be provided with tons of type of different faces and
sizes. It needs type-making and type-setting machines of great
complexity, printing-presses of great size and cost, and much curious
machinery in the departments of electrotyping and bookbinding; but
these machines, intended to relieve the drudgery of monotonous manual
labor, do not supplant the necessity for a higher skill in
craftsmanship. They really make that craftsmanship more difficult.
The difficulty of good book-making is greater now than ever.
Improvements made during the last century in processes of engraving
and the making of ink and paper and the increasing exactions of
critical readers and reviewers, compel a closer attention to the petty
detail of manufacture. The novice soon finds that some of the methods
recently introduced are incompatible with other methods. For the
production of a superior book practical experience and theoretical
study of all processes are needed to harmonize their antagonisms. One
has but to read over the headlines of the foregoing table of contents
to note how many different arts, crafts, and sciences are required in
the construction of a well-made book. A reading of these articles
makes one understand the scope and limitations of each art and the
necessity for its proper adjustment in its relation to the
workmanship of other crafts with which it may be associated.
For this purpose this book has been prepared. It is believed that a
compilation of the experience of men eminent in their respective
departments will be a useful guide to the amateur in authorship or the
novice in publication.
THE AUTHOR
By George W. Cable.
In a certain fine and true sense books of imaginative writing--and the
present writer cannot undertake to speak of any others--are not built,
but born. Nevertheless, there has always been an unlucky tendency on
the part both of writers and readers to overstate this non-mechanical
nature of poetic works, whether in prose or verse, and to give the
processes of this production that air of mystery--not to say
miracle--in which art is always tempted to veil its methods. There is
an anatomy of the book, which is not its life, but is just as real as
its life, and only less essential. There is an architecture awaiting
the book while it is still in its author's brain; and for want of due
regard to this architecture's laws, for want of a sound and shapely
anatomy, many a book misses the success--not commercial only, but
spiritual as well--which the amount of toil and talent spent on it
ought to earn. And now that reading has become so democratic that the
fortunes of a book of the imagination are largely in the hands of the
Crowd, which cares nothing and feels nothing as to grace of form and
tone in what it reads, the commercial risk in the physical deformities
of a book is not so great as the risk of its spiritual failure. Now,
too, that the magazines have made it so very desirable to the author
that his work should be printed first in them, their mechanical
limitations, which are legion, bear upon the author and often seem to
him (and his personal friends) to bear cruelly. This difficulty is not
a flattering or gentle discipline, nor are its discriminations always
good or always bad. It works almost as crudely as that of the stage
works on the theatrical dramatist. A cunning subservience to it covers
a multitude of sins, and often achieves for the literary craftsman
place and preference over the truer artist, if he overlooks the need
of being also a craftsman. Yet it is the hard demand, not of the
magazines alone, but of every highest interest, that the cure for this
injustice be found in the truest artist making himself also the
cunningest craftsman. "He that would be first among you let him be the
servant of all."
Well, then, what are some of these mechanical rules of construction?
The space here allowed--see there, for instance!--gives room for but a
hint or two; but, first of all, an author should know before the
actual constructure of his creation begins to rise, how long it is to
be. Of course he would like to say he cannot tell; that he is in the
hands of his muse, and all that; but the truth is, his "artistic
temperament" is trying to shirk the drudgery of the engineering
problem involved. It is far better for him as an artist that he should
thoroughly solve that problem; it will take time and labor, but it
need not waste them. The length of his work will, or should, depend
upon the breadth of it; by which we mean that a certain fulness of
treatment involves a certain length. For instance, one cannot
reasonably hope to keep a story short if it is about several persons
and involves a conflict of their characters or fates. That is the
second necessity; the length must be planned in proportion to the
breadth. But, thirdly, both length and breadth should be governed by
the importance, the dignity, the substantial value, the business, the
substance, the spiritual stuff, of which the projected book is to
consist. Hence the writer of true literary conscience will put the
first, as above named, last, and the last first: spiritual substance,
then breadth, then length.
In order to make fairly sure of these essentials, as well as for other
reasons, the author should have a clear determination of all the main
features of the structure he proposes to raise. Especially the bridge
should not be itself begun until its builder knows very definitely
where and how it is to reach the other shore; nothing between the
beginning and the end is so important to be sure about from the
beginning, as the end. There is a great difference among writers as
to the sense of need for a complete preliminary framework on which to
build. But beyond doubt many feeble, many abortive, results come of
having too little preparatory framework, too slender a scenario, to
use a playwright's word which authors and editors are borrowing more
and more.
It seems good that a literary artist should always write for himself.
Yet, of course, he should write unselfishly; we may say he would do
well always to aim at the entertainment of the noblest minds, even
when he does not exhort their loftiest moods. But he certainly
achieves much besides if, while he does these things, at the same time
and in the same doing he entertains the great commonalty of readers.
If he does this, and all the more if he has the rare genius to do all
these in one, his books, we may almost say, _ought_ to go first
through the magazines. If he wants them to do so, then it will be a
godsend to himself as well as to the editors if he will lay his plans,
as far as they have any arithmetical character (and they can have
much), according to the magazines' mechanical exigencies. He should
know just how much of any magazine page his own typewritten pages will
occupy; how many of its own pages that magazine commonly allows to
writings of the kind he proposes to offer--how many yearly, and how
many monthly; and so on. It is well that he should know the best time
of the magazine's business year in which to seek to arrange with
them. To a certain degree magazines actually "lay in stock" for a
coming season and after that, for a time, are languid buyers.
Be it understood that these remarks are as impromptu as a letter, and
are intended only as hints and pointers. Yet much as they leave
unstated, let a word be said as to the relation of the author to his
book after he and all the later artisans of it have done their several
parts in its building, and it is built. The care of the edifice ought
still to be, far more than it commonly is, in the author's hands. The
publisher has the fortunes of hundreds of works to promote and keep in
repair; the author has but his own. Even an author may say that any
publisher is glad to have suggestions from any author as to plans for
keeping the children of that author's own brain alive in the world.
THE LITERARY AGENT
By Paul R. Reynolds.
The work of the literary agent in the building of a book may be
roughly divided into two parts, first, in relation to the author, and
second, in relation to the publisher. When the author has finished his
manuscript, he brings it to the literary agent to be placed. The
literary agent reads it and decides what house is most likely to
publish such a book. He does not offer a book on Nervous Disorders to
a house which never publishes that kind of book. He does not offer a
sensational novel to a conservative house. He offers a book on
Political Economy to a house which publishes that class of book and
which is in touch with the people who buy books of that order. Among a
number of houses which bring out books of any definite class, he can
select the house that is most energetic in pushing its books, that has
behind it a prestige and name which will help its publications, and
which possesses the requisite skill to lay its wares before the public
advantageously. The success of many a book has depended more on the
shrewdness of the publisher in laying it before the public in
attractive and seductive guise than either the public or the author
often realize.
If the publisher accepts the manuscript offered to him by the literary
agent, the latter arranges terms with the publisher, making as good a
business arrangement as all the conditions justify. He draws up the
contract with the publisher, and after the book is published, he
collects the royalties from the publisher as they fall due. He enables
the author to avoid any house that has a reputation for sharp
practices. Knowing the personnel of the different houses, he knows the
proper man to approach in offering his book, and he is of aid to the
author in blowing his trumpet for him, telling what his previous work
has been, in a way that the author, sensitive as he often is, cannot
properly do. In short, the agent takes off the author's shoulders all
the business end of publishing, leaving him free to devote himself to
his own proper vocation without the vexatious business worries which
he finds all the more vexatious because he has not had any training or
experience in coping with them.
I think the literary agent can be, and as time goes on, will be, of
increasing use to the publisher. The literary agent, if he understands
his business, takes up no manuscript in which he does not believe.
When he brings the publisher a manuscript, it is because he thinks
there is money in such manuscript for the publisher, for the author,
and as far as commission is concerned, for himself. While it is an
advantage to the author that he should have the judgment of the agent,
because the agent looks at any manuscript from a cold-blooded business
point of view, it is also of advantage to the publisher to know that
the agent, free from the confidence and perhaps the bias that the
author has about his own wares, is offering him any individual
manuscript because he (the agent) believes it will sell. The result is
that the publisher gets to know that the agent won't offer him a
manuscript that is not up to a certain standard, and which, even
though it should in the end not prove suitable to this publisher's
special list, must receive careful consideration. In this way the
agent becomes of use to the publisher because he tries never to offer
him anything that is mere trash or that simply wastes the publisher's
time. Some time ago a publishing house wrote to an agent telling him
they wanted a certain kind of novel for the next season, and
describing, with a good deal of particularity, the kind of book they
wanted. The agent, after thinking the matter over, submitted two
manuscripts. The publisher considered them and accepted both. In such
a case the agent had certainly been of great use to the publisher. He
had given him what he was looking for, and had saved him the nuisance
and the actual expense of reading through a large number of
manuscripts before finding the right one.
It may be admitted frankly that the agent is sometimes accused of
asking more for his wares than they are worth. In reply to this
accusation it may be said that asking is not getting, and the agent
who asks more than the market justifies, and thereby spoils the
chances of a satisfactory arrangement, is not serving the best
interests of his client. On the other hand, he will get the best price
obtainable in the market, taking into consideration the character of
the publishing house, its prestige and ability in pushing books, and
as he is offering and selling every day he can generally obtain a
better price and make a better arrangement than the author can.
Realizing that the author and publishers are partners in an enterprise
whose success depends upon a frank and clear understanding, he will do
his best to make such relations friendly and harmonious and to the
mutual advantage of both parties to the contract, never forgetting,
however, that his especial client is the author, and that it is his
duty to represent the author's interests.
One of the notable features of the times is the growth of magazines.
The arrangement for the serialization of a long story in a magazine,
the placing of short stories and articles in magazines, the selling of
stories, articles, and books in England, and arranging the
simultaneous issue in both countries,--all this involves an immense
amount of detail which one has to encounter fully to realize.
Sometimes, where an author is putting out a good many manuscripts, the
complications are numerous and perplexing. In the case of one author
living abroad whom we will call Smith, a book was arranged with a
house A, and a second with a house B. The author was taken ill, could
not finish the first book in time so that A had to postpone it till
the next year, and this meant that B had to postpone his book. Then a
publishing house took a story which the same author had sold direct to
it for magazine publication, without reserving book rights, and
brought such story out in book form. This meant another complication.
After B had postponed his book twice the author produced another book
which he thought better than the second book, and wished published
before B's book. Four times B was asked to postpone his book and each
time agreed to, though not without certain _quid pro quos_. All these
matters the agent had to straighten out, while the author was living
three thousand miles away.
The agent can also be of use to the author because he looks at any
manuscript in an objective rather than in a subjective way. The
author, who has toiled and striven over the child of his brain,
regards it as fathers generally regard their children. Sometimes he
cannot see its faults, sometimes he misjudges its virtues. It is too
much a part of himself to be regarded coldly and calmly. When the
publisher makes an offer for a book the author may with hasty disdain
wish to reject it as entirely inadequate, or he may wish to accept it
with eager haste, so glad is he for the chance of seeing the book in
print. In this state of hasty acceptance or hasty rejection, the agent
can look upon an offer calmly and dispassionately, to be accepted or
rejected as the author's best interests shall dictate. Then again, as
time goes on, more and more authors must live at a distance from the
great centres. Some of them live in the uttermost parts of the earth.
One author wrote recently to his agent from the wilds of Africa,
saying, "I have found a nicely secluded spot, surrounded by gorillas
and chimpanzees." To such authors it is essential that they should
have an agent who is in touch with the publishers who are publishing
their works.
Then again, the agent can be of use to the author in sparing him some
of the bitterness that the author feels when his manuscript is
rejected. Who that has read it can ever forget the story of how
Hawthorne, while still struggling for success, submitted a collection
of short stories to a publisher, and of how the publisher, not having
much capital, laid the manuscript aside, intending to publish it when
things were a little easier; and how Hawthorne, after months of dreary
waiting, wrote an angry letter to the publisher, and when he got the
manuscript back, in bitter, hopeless rage burned it up? Years
afterward the publisher admitted that the manuscript contained some of
the most exquisite work Hawthorne had ever written. This story
emphasizes the intense sensitiveness of the author about his work.
Often after two or three rejections he will give the manuscript up as
hopeless and of no value, while it may be that he has only failed to
find the house that is looking for that kind of book. An agent, if he
has once taken the book up, does not drop it so quickly. Only recently
an agent sold a book which had been declined by fifteen houses to the
sixteenth. He is willing to persevere with a manuscript and with an
author, in spite of rebuffs and discouragement, if he believes that
the author has merit; and if he is willing to persevere with an author
in the day of small things, he will reap his reward later on.
In conclusion the writer believes that the agent, as he has tried to
indicate, can perform a definite and valuable service to both author
and publisher by helping the author to bring his wares to the man who
will publish them most advantageously, and by obtaining for the author
the prices that such wares are worth in the open market, and he can
help the publisher by acting as a sifter and bringing before the
publisher and editor manuscripts that are really worthy of
consideration.
THE LITERARY ADVISER
By Francis W. Halsey.
The position of literary adviser to a publishing house differs in its
duties, according as the adviser may be employed in a house highly
organized, or in one that is not. When the organization is such that
the duties in the various departments are not well differentiated, the
adviser's work will be likely to involve many things that properly
belong to the manufacturing and advertising departments. These
conditions, however, if they exist at all, will be found in the
smaller houses, or in houses which, as to personnel, are undergoing
reorganization; they are, and ought to be, exceptional.
The adviser's actual duties should pertain almost exclusively to the
manuscripts, and to the relations of the house with those who produce
them. In this way, the adviser acts as an intermediary between the
publisher and the author. This relation seems, on the surface, to be
somewhat delicate, and it usually is confidential, but most men find
the occupation an agreeable one. Authors as a class, so far from being
an irritable race, will usually be found, at least in their relations
to publishers, not only interesting men and women, but candid and
reasonable human beings. Probably the most delightful rewards of the
literary adviser's calling come from the opportunities it gives him to
extend his friendships among charming people.
Any house which is large enough to employ a literary adviser will
probably receive, in the course of a year, at least one thousand
unsolicited manuscripts, which will come from every part of the
country. They will naturally be of widely varying degrees of
excellence; quite two-thirds of them will be fiction, and a
considerable number will bear convincing evidence of having already
been for some time in search of a publisher. Testimony from various
houses has at different times been given as to the percentage of
volunteered manuscripts which eventually find acceptance. It does not
materially vary, being from one to two per cent. Some years ago, in
order to test this estimate, I went carefully over the unsolicited
manuscripts which had reached a large publishing house during a period
of several months, and found that exactly one and one-half per cent of
them had been published.
This small showing should not imply that the remaining ninety-eight or
ninety-nine per cent could in fairness be called worthless. With
occasional exceptions, rejected manuscripts have been prepared with
considerable intelligence; knowledge of themes is shown in them;
there is some real literary skill in evidence, and particular care has
been taken to secure legibility, about nine-tenths of them being in
typewritten form. What they lack is certain other qualities more vital
in the formation of a judgment as to their availability. In the case
of fiction, they lack novelty of treatment, or for some other reason
fail to be interesting, and in general there has not been infused into
them the real breath of life. When they deal with serious subjects,
they often cover ground which has been better covered before, or they
attempt to achieve the not-worth-while, or the impossible.
There is always a small number of manuscripts against which no other
objection can be raised than that it would be impossible to secure
from the public an adequate return in sales for the expenditure
necessary in the manufacture and distribution of the books. One of the
pathetic sides of the publishing business is the fact that manuscripts
of this kind cannot oftener, in this day and generation, secure the
amount of attention they deserve from the reading public. When a sale
of one or two thousand copies would be necessary to make good the cost
of publication, the publisher is confronted with the fact that he
could not secure a sale exceeding five hundred. Indeed, when one
considers the almost certain fate that awaits them, pathos of the most
genuine kind is closely associated with volunteered manuscripts--those,
I mean, which come from new writers. Hardly any form of endeavor to
which educated minds devote themselves should more often awaken
sympathetic feeling. Those who produce them almost always have their
rewards far to seek, and seeking will not find them, and yet they
"wrought in sad sincerity."
The public is familiar with stories of successful books which, in the
course of their peregrinations, were several times rejected by
publishers. This, doubtless, has been the experience of all authors
who have made notable successes with first books, and it doubtless
always will be the experience of new authors. But along with this we
must set down the further, but consoling fact, that probably no
meritorious manuscript, possessing the possibilities of a great sale,
ever yet failed ultimately to find a publisher. The best proof of this
seems to be the absence of any notable instance of a book which, after
being rejected by all the regular houses, finally was brought out
privately, or at the author's expense, and then made a hit.
It is a common impression that manuscripts are not carefully read in
publishing houses. Again and again has this fiction been exploded by
houses whose word should be accepted as final, but it now and then
lifts up its head as if untouched before. Of course there are
manuscripts which no one ever reads completely through from beginning
to end, chapter by chapter, and page by page, simply because it has
been found not to be necessary to do so. Every conscientious reader,
however,--and most readers known to me have been nothing if not
conscientious,--reads at least far enough into a manuscript to learn
if there be anything in it that in the least degree is promising. He
understands full well the danger of overlooking a meritorious work,
and experience has taught him to be careful. Moreover, he is usually
fired with the worthy ambition to make a discovery; but he acts
according to his light only, and hence makes mistakes. The conditions
in which his work is done, however, preclude the possibility of
careless reading.
It is doubtless true--indeed, I believe the records of every
publishing house in the country will sustain this statement--that
while no house has failed at some time in its career to reject at
least one manuscript that was afterwards a highly successful book,
mistakes of this kind have been extremely few; whereas the mistakes
made by the same houses in accepting manuscripts that were afterward
found to be unprofitable have been numerous. A further fact, which is
seldom borne in mind, although it ought always to be remembered in any
discussion of literary success, is that highly successful books
usually bring to their publishers as much surprise as they do to any
one else. This is distinctly true of novels by new writers, whose
"big-sellers" have seldom or never been anticipated. It is well known
in the trade that at least two, and probably a half-dozen, books
highly successful during the past ten years, and all the works of new
writers, were sent to press for the first edition, with a printing
order for only two thousand copies.
The public has gotten very much into the habit of judging the fortunes
of a publishing house by the successful fiction which it puts forth,
and this is also true of many men in the trade, whose means of knowing
better ought to be ample. Probably the literary gossip prevalent in
newspapers and periodicals is largely responsible for this habit. The
facts are, however, that, from these books alone, no publishing house
in this country is, or could be, well sustained. Unless there be in
the background some other publishing enterprise that is producing
constant revenue from year to year, mere fiction will accomplish
little to make or save the publisher. The real sources of stability
lie elsewhere, far beyond the ken of the superficial observer, and
they are very commonly overlooked. In one instance, this mainstay is
religious books; in another a cyclopaedia; in another medical books, or
educational; in another a dictionary; in another a periodical; and
fortunate the house that has not one, but two or three, such sources
of prosperity.
It might be set down as an axiomatic statement that no large
publishing house in this country could possibly live exclusively from
what are known as miscellaneous books, by which is meant current
fiction and other ephemeral publications. The worst thing about such
books is that they create no assets; their life is short, and once it
is ended, the plates have value only as old metal. A house, therefore,
in publishing this class of books finds that each season it must begin
all over again the work of creating business for itself. Books of the
more substantial kind, however, whether they be religious,
educational, scientific, medical, or in other senses books of
reference, do not perish with the passing of a season. Once the right
kinds have been found, they are good for at least ten years, and not
infrequently for a generation.
But this is wandering somewhat away from the subject of the literary
adviser. His duties primarily are to preserve and to create good-will
from authors toward the house which employs him, for that good-will is
an asset of the first importance to a publishing house. Other kinds of
good-will at the same time are essential to its fortunes,--notably the
good-will of the bookseller and that of the book buyer,--but behind
these, and primarily as the source of these, lies the good-will of the
author. Houses now known to be the most prosperous in this country
possess this good-will in abundance. So, too, the houses which are
destined to much longer life are those which, by all legitimate
means, shall seek to preserve and increase that good-will. Equally
true is it, that the houses which in future shall fail will be those
which do not cultivate and cherish the good-will of authors as the
most valuable asset they can ever hope to possess.
It is because of this possession that a publisher gets an author's
book. It was by this means that he got the books he already has, and
by this will he get those which will make him successful in the
future. His books being good, it is through them that the bookseller's
good-will is acquired, and through them also that the publisher will
secure the good-will of the book buyer. No wiser words on this subject
have been uttered in our generation than those which may be found,
here and there, in "A Publisher's Confession," which I hope was
written, as reputed, by Walter H. Page, for it is certainly sound
enough and sane enough to be his:--
"The successful publisher sustains a relation to the
successful author that is not easily transferable. It is a
personal relation. A great corporation cannot take a real
publisher's place in his attitude to the author he serves."
"Every great publishing house has been built on the strong
friendships between writers and publishers. There is in
fact, no other sound basis to build on; for the publisher
cannot do his highest duty to any author whose work he does
not appreciate and with whom he is not in sympathy. Now,
when a man has an appreciation of your work, and sympathy
for it, he wins you. This is the simplest of all
psychological laws,--the simplest of all laws of friendship,
and one of the soundest."
"Mere printers and salesmen have not often built publishing
houses. For publishing houses have this distinction over
most other commercial institutions--they rest on the
friendship of the most interesting persons in the world, the
writers of good books."
"And--in all the noisy babble of commercialism--the writers
of our own generation who are worth most on a publisher's
list respond to the true publishing personality as readily
as writers did before the day of commercial methods. All the
changes that have come into the profession have not, after
all, changed its real character, as it is practised on its
higher levels. And this rule will hold true--that no
publishing house can win and keep a place on the highest
level that does not have at least one man who possesses this
true publishing personality."
These are golden words. Men who knew them as self-evident truths laid
the foundations, and in a few instances reared the superstructures, of
the most famous publishing houses known to modern literature. Let us
in part call the roll, restricting it to the dead: James T. Fields,
the first Charles Scribner, George P. Putnam, Fletcher Harper, William
H. Appleton, Daniel Macmillan, and the second John Murray. These men
were more than publishers, adding as they did to that vocation the
duties of the literary adviser, and becoming the ablest of their kind.
Well may the literary adviser of our day, who is seldom himself a
publisher, read the story of their lives and take heart from it in the
discharge of his own duties.
THE MANUFACTURING DEPARTMENT
By Lawton L. Walton.
The manufacture of a book consists primarily of the processes of
typography,[1] or type composition, or the setting up of
type--presswork or printing--photo-engraving or other methods of
reproduction--designing--die-cutting--and binding, all of which are
involved in transforming a manuscript into the completed book as it
reaches the reader.
[Footnote 1: The word "typographer" is used to
differentiate between the compositor and the
printer, the latter being the one who does the
presswork.]
In the machinery of a modern publishing house the manufacturing man is
the person who follows these processes in their devious volutions and
evolutions, until the finished production comes from the binder's
hands.
After a manuscript has been accepted by a publishing house, it is
turned over to the manufacturing man with such general instructions
regarding the make-up of the book, as may have been considered or
discussed with the author, who invariably and sometimes unfortunately,
has some preconceived notion of what his book should look like.
The manufacturing man then selects what he considers a suitable style
and size of type and size of letter-press page for the book, and sends
the manuscript to the typographer with instructions to set up a few
sample pages, and to make an estimate of the number of pages that the
book will make, so as to verify his own calculations in this respect.
If these sample pages do not prove satisfactory, others are set up,
until a page is arrived at finally that will meet all the requirements
that the publisher deems necessary. This is then invariably submitted
to the author for his approval.
This detail settled, the typographer is now instructed to proceed with
the composition and to send proofs to the author. Sometimes a book is
set up at once in page form but more often first proofs are sent out
in galley strips, on which the author makes his corrections before the
matter is apportioned into pages; another proof in page form is sent
to the author on the return of which the typographer casts the
electrotype plates from which the book is printed, unless, as in rare
instances, the book is to be printed from the type, when no
electrotype plates are made.
The manufacturing man keeps in touch with this work in its various
stages as it proceeds, and as soon as the number of pages that the
book will make can definitely be determined, he places an order for
the paper on which it is to be printed.
Meanwhile, if the book is to be illustrated, an illustrator must be
engaged, and furnished with a set of early proofs of the book from
which to select the points or situations to illustrate. When the
drawings are finally approved they are carefully looked over, marked
to show the sizes at which they are to be reproduced, and sent to the
engraver for reproduction.
Upon receipt of the reproductions from the engraver, the proofs are
carefully compared with the originals, and if the work has been
satisfactorily performed, the cuts are sent to the typographer or the
printer for insertion in their proper places in the plates or type
matter of the book.
The matter of the paper on which the book is to be printed has now to
be considered: First, the size of the page, _i.e._ the apportionment
of the margins around the page of letter-press, is decided. Second,
the quality of paper to be used, and the surface or finish is then
selected; and finally, the bulk or thickness that the book must be, to
make a volume of proper proportions, is determined. The paper is then
ordered, to be delivered to the printer who will print the book.
Time was when paper was made by hand in certain fixed sizes, and the
size of the book was determined by the number of times the sheet of
paper was folded, and the letter-press page was adapted to the size
of the paper. In these days of machinery, when paper can be made in
any size of sheet desired, the process is reversed: the size of the
letter-press page is determined and the size of the sheet of paper
adapted thereto. Upon receipt of the paper the printer sends a
full-sized dummy of it to the manufacturing man so that he may compare
it with the order that was given to the paper dealer. The book is then
put to press, and as soon as the printing has been completed, the
printed sheets are delivered to the binder.
If the book is to have a decorative cover, a designer has been
employed to furnish a suitable cover design. When the design has been
approved, it is turned over to the die cutter to cut the brass dies
used by the binder in stamping the design on the cover of the book.
The dies when finished are sent with the design to the binder to be
copied. He stamps off some sample covers until the result called for
by the designer has been attained and is then ready to proceed with
the operation of binding the book, as soon as the printed sheets have
been delivered to him from the printer.
The binder is usually supplied by the printer with a small number of
advance copies of the book, before the complete run of the sheets has
been delivered. These advance copies are bound up at once and
delivered to the manufacturing man so that any faults or errors may
be caught and improvements be made before the entire edition of the
book is bound.
Printed paper wrappers for the book have been made and supplied to the
binder for wrapping each copy, and as soon as the books are bound,
they are wrapped and delivered at the publisher's stock rooms.
The manufacturing man sees that early copies of each new book, for
copyright purposes, are furnished to the proper department that
attends to that detail, and that early copies also are supplied to the
publicity department, to place with editors for special or advance
reviews.
The manufacturing man also provides the travelling representatives of
his house with adequate dummies (_i.e._ partly completed copies) of
all new books as soon as the important details of their make-up have
been decided.
This brief outline covers all of the steps in the process of the
evolution of a book. Reams, however, could be devoted to the
innumerable details that interweave and overlap each other with which
the manufacturing man has to contend, when, as is often the case in
our larger publishing houses, he has from forty to fifty books, and
sometimes more, in process of manufacture at one time. I know of no
man to whom disappointment comes more often than to him,--from the
delays due to causes wholly unavoidable, to the blunders of stupid
workmen and the broken promises of others; but these are all
forgotten when the completed book, that he has worried over in its
course through the press, in many instances for months, reaches his
hands completed, "a thing of beauty."
THE MAKING OF TYPE
By L. Boyd Benton.
Type are made of type metal, a mixture of tin, antimony, lead, and
copper. As antimony expands in solidifying, advantage is taken of this
quality, and the mixture is so proportioned that the expansion of the
antimony will practically counteract the shrinkage of the other
ingredients. The proportion of the mixture is varied according to the
size and style of type and to the purposes for which it is used.
Type are cast separately in moulds, a "matrix" at the end of the mould
forming the letter or other character.
Machinery is used very largely in modern type-making. The steps of its
manufacture are in this order: drawing the design, producing of a
metal pattern therefrom, placing the pattern either in the engraving
machine to produce steel punches and type-metal originals, or in the
matrix-engraving machine to produce matrices, adjusting the matrix to
the mould, and finally, casting the type.
The design for a new style of type is made generally with pen and
ink, the capital letters being drawn about an inch high and the others
in predetermined proportions. When the design is for a plain text
letter, similar to that with which this book is printed, it is
essential to have the letters proportioned and shaped in such a manner
as will cause the least strain on the eye in reading, and, at the same
time, produce a pleasing effect when the page is viewed as a whole.
When the printed page conveys information to the reader, without
attracting attention to itself, it is ideal.
While this is true in regard to a design for a text letter, the design
for a display type is often made to attract attention, not only to
itself, but to what it proclaims, by its boldness and beauty and
sometimes even by its ugliness.
After the design has been drawn, it is placed in a "delineating
machine," where an enlarged outline pencil copy, or tracing, is made,
so large that all errors are easily seen and corrected. New designs
may, however, be drawn in outline by hand on the enlarged scale, thus
rendering unnecessary both the pen-and-ink drawing and the tracing.
With the aid of the delineating machine, the operator, besides being
able to produce an accurately enlarged outline pencil tracing of a
design, is also enabled, by various adjustments, to change the form of
the pencil tracing in such a manner that it becomes proportionately
more condensed or extended, and even italicized or back-sloped. That
is, from a single design, say Gothic, pencil tracings can be made
condensed, extended, italicized, and back-sloped, as well as an
enlarged facsimile.
The next operation consists in placing the enlarged outline pencil
drawing in a machine which enables the operator to reproduce the
outline drawing, reduced in size, on a metal plate, evenly covered
with wax, with the line traced entirely through the wax. The plate is
then covered with a thin layer of copper, electrically deposited, and
is "backed up" with metal, and trimmed and finished, similar to an
ordinary electrotype plate of a page of type. A copper-faced metal
plate is thus produced, on which are the raised outlines of a letter.
This is called the "pattern." From this pattern all regular type sizes
may be cut. It determines the shape of the letter, but the size and
variations from the pattern are determined later by the adjustments of
the engraving machine in which it is used.
The pattern is now sent to the engraving room. Machines have
superseded the old-fashioned way of cutting punches and originals by
hand, and they have enormously increased the production of new type
faces. Whereas in the old days it took about eighteen months to bring
out a new Roman face, or style of letters, in seven different sizes,
to-day it can be done in about five weeks. The reason is that formerly
only one artist, known as a punch-cutter, could work on a single face,
and he had to cut all the sizes, otherwise there were noticeable
differences in style. By machine methods, where all sizes can be cut
simultaneously, it is only a question of having the requisite number
of engraving machines.
As to the quality of machine work, it is superior to hand work both in
accuracy and uniformity. The artist formerly cut the punches, or
originals, by hand under a magnifying glass, and the excellence of his
work was really marvellous. However, when changing from one size to
another, there were often perceptible variations in the shapes of the
letters, or the sizes were not always evenly graded. By the machine
method the workman uses the long end of a lever, as explained below,
and has therefore a greater chance of doing accurate work. In addition
to this, a rigid pattern forms the shape of the letter, and to it all
sizes must conform.
Another gain the machine has over hand-cutting is its greater range.
When the old-time artist made an unusually small size of type for
Bible use, he did it with great strain on his eyes and nerves. At any
moment his tool might slip and spoil the work. With the machine, on
the other hand, and with no physical strain whatever, experimental
punches have been cut so small as to be legible only with a
microscope--too small, in fact, to print. At present there are two
styles of engraving machines employed,--one cutting the letter in
relief,--called a "punch" if cut in steel, and an "original" if cut in
type metal,--and the other cutting a letter in intaglio,--called a
"matrix." Both machines are constructed on the principle of the lever,
the long arm following the pattern, while the short arm moves either
the work against the cutting tool, or the cutting tool against the
work. The adjustments are such that the operator is enabled to engrave
the letter proportionately more extended or condensed, and lighter or
heavier in face, than the pattern. All these variations are necessary
for the production of a properly graded modern series containing the
usual sizes. In fact, on account of the laws of optics, which cannot
be gone into here, only one size of a series is cut in absolutely
exact proportion to the patterns.
As it is impossible to describe these machines clearly without the aid
of many diagrams and much technical language, only a brief description
of their operation will be given.
When the letters are to be engraved in steel, blocks or "blanks" are
cut from soft steel and finished to the proper size. A blank is then
fastened in the "holder," the machine for cutting the letter in relief
adjusted to the proper leverage, and the pattern clamped to the "bed."
The long arm of the lever, containing the proper "tracer" or follower,
is moved by the operator around the outside of the pattern on the
copper-faced metal plate, causing the blank to be moved by the
shorter arm around and against a rotating cutting tool. This operation
is repeated several times with different sizes of tracers and
different adjustments to enable the cutting tool to cut at different
depths, until finally a steel letter in relief is produced, engraved
the reverse of the pattern and very much smaller. After being hardened
and polished, this is called a steel punch, and, when driven into a
flat piece of copper, it produces what is known as a "strike" or
unfinished matrix.
If in the same machine type metal is used for blanks, the resulting
originals are placed in a "flask," or holder, and submerged in a bath,
where they receive on the face of the letter a thick coating of
nickel, electrically deposited. As soon as the deposit is of
sufficient thickness, they are removed and the soft metal letters
withdrawn, leaving a deep facsimile impression in the deposited metal,
which also is an unfinished matrix.
The machine for engraving a matrix in intaglio is operated in much the
same manner as that for engraving a punch in relief. The same patterns
are used, but the operator traces on the inside of the raised outline
instead of on the outside. Besides following the outline, the operator
guides the tracers over all the surface of the pattern within the
outlines; otherwise the letter would appear in the matrix in outline
only. The matrices are cut in steel and in watchmakers' nickel, and
the work is so accurately done that about half the labor of finishing
is saved.
It will be noted from the foregoing that all three processes of
engraving end in the production of an unfinished matrix.
The adjusting of the matrix to the mould is technically called
"fitting," and requires great skill. If type are cast from unfitted
matrices, be the letters ever so cleverly designed and perfectly cut,
when assembled in the printed page they will present a very ragged
appearance. Some letters will appear slanting backward, others
forward, some be above the line, others below; some will perforate the
paper, while others will not print at all; the distances between the
letters will everywhere be unequal, and some will print on but one
edge. Indeed, a single letter may have half of these faults, but when
the matrices are properly fitted, the printed page presents a smooth
and even appearance.
The mould for this purpose is made of hardened steel, and in it is
formed the body of the type. The printing end is formed in the matrix.
The mould is provided at one end with guides and devices for holding
the matrix snugly against it while the type is being cast, and for
withdrawing the matrix and opening the mould when the type is
discharged. At the opposite end from the matrix is an opening through
which the melted metal enters. The moulds are made adjustable so that
each character is cast the proper width, the opening of course being
wider for a "W" than for an "i." Only one mould is necessary for one
size of type, and with it all the matrices for that size may be used.
Commercially, however, it is often necessary to make several moulds of
the same size in order to produce the requisite amount of type.
After the adjustments are made, the casting of the type follows. Type
are now cast in a machine which is automatic, after it is once
adjusted to cast a given letter. The melted type metal is forced by a
pump into the mould and the matrix, and when solidified, the type is
ejected from the mould and moved between knives which trim all four
sides. The type are delivered side by side on a specially grooved
piece of wood, three feet long, called a "stick," on which they are
removed from the machine for inspection. Type are cast at the rate of
from ten to two hundred per minute, according to the size, the speed
being limited only by the time it takes the metal to solidify. To
accelerate this, a stream of cold water is forced through passages
surrounding the mould, and a jet of cold air is blown against the
outside.
The automatic casting machine performs six different operations.
Formerly, all of them, except the casting itself, were done by hand,
and each type was handled separately, except in the operation of
dressing, or the final finishing, where they were handled in lines of
about three feet in length.
After the type have been delivered to the inspector, they are examined
under a magnifying glass and all imperfect type are thrown out. The
perfect type are then delivered to "fonting" room, where they are
weighed, counted, and put up in suitable packages in proper proportion
of one letter with another, ready for the printer.
Formerly the various sizes of type were indicated by names which had
developed with the history of type making. It was a source of
considerable annoyance to printers that these old standards were not
accurate, and that two types of supposedly the same size, and sold
under the same name, by different makers, varied so much that they
could not be used side by side. Of recent years the "point" system, by
which each size bears a proportionate relation to every other size,
has done much to remedy this trouble, and now nearly all type is made
on that basis. An American point is practically one seventy-second of
an inch. Actually it is .013837 inch. It was based on the pica size
most extensively in use in this country. This pica was divided into
twelve equal parts and each part called a point. All the other sizes
were made to conform to multiples of this point. The point is so near
a seventy-second of an inch that printers frequently calculate the
length of the pages by counting the lines, the basis being twelve
lines of 6 point, nine lines of 8 point, eight lines of 9 point, and
six lines of 12 point to the inch. This calculation is really quite
accurate.
The following table will show the old and new names for the various
sizes:--
3-1/2 Point, Brilliant.
4-1/2 Point, Diamond.
5 Point, Pearl.
5-1/2 Point, Agate.
6 Point, Nonpareil.
7 Point, Minion.
8 Point, Brevier.
9 Point, Bourgeois.
10 Point, Long Primer.
11 Point, Small Pica.
12 Point, Pica.
14 Point, 2-line Minion or English.
16 Point, 2-line Brevier.
18 Point, Great Primer.
20 Point, 2-line Long Primer or Paragon.
22 Point, 2-line Small Pica.
24 Point, 2-line Pica.
28 Point, 2-line English.
30 Point, 5-line Nonpareil.
32 Point, 4-line Brevier.
36 Point, 2-line Great Primer.
40 Point, Double Paragon.
42 Point, 7-line Nonpareil.
44 Point, 4-line Small Pica or Canon.
48 Point, 4-line Pica.
54 Point, 9-line Nonpareil.
60 Point, 5-line Pica.
72 Point, 6-line Pica.
HAND COMPOSITION AND ELECTROTYPING
By J. Stearns Cushing.
The form of the book, the size of the type page, and the size and
style of the type having been determined, the manuscript is handed to
the foreman of the composing room, with all the collected directions
in regard to it. He fills out a scheme of the work which tells the
whole story,--somewhat as shown in illustration opposite page 42.
Under the heading "Remarks," in the scheme shown, are noted general
directions as to capitalization, punctuation, and spelling (whether
Webster, Worcester, or English spelling--which means generally not
much more than the insertion of the "u" in words like "favor,"
"honor," etc., and the use of "s" instead of "z" in words like
"recognize," "authorize," etc.). Sometimes these directions are given
by the publisher, sometimes by the author, but more often by the
superintendent or foreman of the printing-office. The office generally
has a fairly well established system, which is followed in the absence
of other orders. It is rarely the case that it is not the wisest
course, if one is dealing with a reputable firm of printers, to leave
all such details, except deciding the dictionary to be followed, to
them. It is their business, and they will, if allowed, pursue a
consistent and uniform plan, whereas few authors and fewer publishers
are able, or take the pains, to do this. Too often the author has a
few peculiar ideas as to punctuation or capitalization, which he
introduces just frequently enough to upset the consistent plan of the
printer. He will neither leave the responsibility to the latter nor
will he assume it himself, and the natural result is a lack of
uniformity which might have been avoided if the printer had been
allowed to guide this part of the work without interference.
The compositors who are to set the type are selected according to the
difficulty of the matter in hand, and each one is given a few pages of
the "copy," or manuscript. The portion thus given each compositor is
called a "take," and its length is determined by circumstances. For
instance, if time is an object, small takes are given, in order that
the next step in the forwarding of the work may be started promptly
and without the delay which would be occasioned by waiting for the
compositor to set up a longer take.
When the compositor has finished his take, the copy and type are
passed to a boy, who "locks up" the type on the galley--a flat brass
tray with upright sides on which the compositor has placed his
type--and takes a proof of it upon a galley-or "roller"-press. This is
the proof known as a "galley-proof," and is, in book work, printed on
a strip of paper about 7 x 25 inches in size, leaving room for a
generous margin to accommodate proof-readers' and authors'
corrections, alterations, or additions.
[Illustration: MEMORANDUM No.
Date: ____
Name and Address of Author: ____
Name and Address of Publisher: ____
Uniform with ____
Size of Page: ____
Type,--Old Style or Modern face: ____
Text in ____ leaded with ____
Foot-notes ____ in leaded with ____
Extract in ____ leaded with ____
Other Types: ____
Running Titles in ____
Left-hand Running Title: ____
Right-hand Running Title: ____
PROOFS to be sent as follows:
1st Rev. and Copy to ____
2d Rev. and Old Rev. to ____
(Put Changes of Orders as to Proofs in this column.)
F. Proofs: ____
When begun: ____ When to be completed: ____
REMARKS. ____]
[Illustration: Example of a proof-read page of "Address at Gettysburg".]
The galley-proof, with the corresponding copy, is then handed to the
proof-reader, who is assisted by a "copy-holder" (an assistant who
reads the copy aloud) in comparing it with the manuscript and marking
typographical errors and departures from copy on its margin. Thence
the proof passes back again to the compositor, who corrects the type
in accordance with the proof-reader's markings. Opposite page 44 is a
specimen of a page proof before correction and after the changes
indicated have been made.
New proofs are taken of the corrected galley, and these are revised by
a proof-reader in order to be sure that the compositor has made all
the corrections marked and to mark anew any he may have overlooked or
wrongly altered. If many such occur, the proof is again passed to the
compositor for further correction and the taking of fresh proofs. The
reviser having found the proof reasonably correct, and having marked
on its margin any noticed errors remaining, and also having "Queried"
to the author any doubtful points to which it is desirable that the
latter's attention should be drawn, the proof--known as the "first
revise"--and the manuscript are sent to the author for his reading and
correction or alteration.[2]
[Footnote 2: If the book is to be illustrated, the
author or publisher should be particular to
indicate the position of all cuts by pasting proofs
of them on the margin of the galley-proofs nearest
the place desired. The time occupied by the
"make-up" in "overrunning" matter for the insertion
of cuts is charged as "author's time," and they can
be inserted at less expense in the galley-proofs
while making-up the type into pages than at any
other time. All alterations, so far as practicable,
for the same reason, should also be made in the
galley-proofs, especially those which involve an
increase or decrease in the amount of matter, since
changes of this nature made in the page-proof
necessitate the added expense of a rearrangement of
the made-up pages of type.]
On the return of the galley-proofs to the printer, the changes
indicated on the margins are made by compositors selected for the
purpose, and the galleys of type and the proofs are then turned over
by them to the "make-up." The "make-up" inserts the cuts, divides the
matter into page lengths, and adds the running titles and folios at
the heads of the pages.
At this stage the separate types composing the page are held in place
and together by strong twine called "page cord," which is wound around
the whole page several times, the end being so tucked in at the corner
as to prevent its becoming unfastened prematurely. The page thus held
together is quite secure against being "pied" if proper care is
exercised in handling it, and it can be put on a hand-press and
excellent proofs readily taken from it. A loosely tied page, however,
may allow the letters to spread apart at the ends of the lines, or the
type to get "off its feet," or may show lines slightly curved or
letters out of alignment. The proof of a page displaying such
conditions often causes the author, unlearned in printers' methods,
much perturbation of mind and unnecessary fear that his book is going
to be printed with these defects. These should in reality be no cause
for worry, since by a later operation, that of "locking-up" the "form"
in which the pages will be placed before they are sent to the
electrotyping department, the types readily and correctly adjust
themselves.
Proofs of these twine-bound pages are taken on a hand-press, passed to
the reviser for comparison with the galley-proofs returned by the
author, and if the latter has expressed a wish to see a second revise
of the proofs, they are again sent to him. For such a "second revise"
and any further revises an extra charge is made. The proofs to which
an author is regularly entitled are a duplicate set of the first
revise, a duplicate set of "F"-proofs,--to be mentioned later,--and
one set of proofs of the electrotype plates; though it may be added
that the last is not at all essential and is seldom called for.
Usually the author does not require to see another proof after the
second revise, which he returns to the printer with his final changes
and the direction that the pages may be "corrected and cast," that
is, put into the permanent form of electrotype plates. Some authors,
however, will ask to see and will make alterations in revise after
revise, even to the sixth or seventh, and could probably find
something to change in several more if the patience or pocketbook of
the publisher would permit it. All the expense of overhauling,
correcting, and taking additional proofs of the pages is charged by
the printer as "author's time." It is possible for an author to make
comparatively few and simple changes each time he receives a new
revise, but yet have a much larger bill for author's changes than
another who makes twice or thrice as many alterations at one time on
the galley-proof, and only requires another proof in order that he may
verify the correctness of the printer's work. The moral is obvious.
After the pages have been cast, further alterations, while entirely
possible, are quite expensive and necessarily more or less injurious
to the plates.
The author having given the word to "cast," the pages of type are laid
on a smooth, level table of iron or marble called an "imposing stone."
They are then enclosed--either two or three or four pages together,
according to their size--in iron frames called "chases," in which they
are squarely and securely "locked up," the type having first been
levelled down by light blows of a mallet on a block of smooth, hard
wood called a "planer." This locking-up of the pages in iron frames
naturally corrects the defects noted in the twine-bound pages, and not
only brings the type into proper alignment and adjustment, but
prevents the probability of types becoming displaced or new errors
occurring through types dropping out of the page and being wrongly
replaced.
When the locking-up process is completed, the iron chase and type
embraced by it is called a "form." A proof of this form is read and
examined by a proof-reader with the utmost care, with a view to
eliminating any remaining errors or defective types or badly adjusted
lines, and to making the pages as nearly typographically perfect as
possible. It is surprising how many glaring errors, which have eluded
all readers up to this time, are discovered by the practised eye of
the final proof-reader.
The form having received this most careful final reading, the proof is
passed back to the "stone-hands"--those who lock up and correct the
forms--for final correction and adjustment, after which several more
sets of proofs are taken, called "F"-proofs (variously and correctly
understood as standing for "final," "file," or "foundry" proofs). A
set of F-proofs is sent to the author to keep on file, occasionally
one is sent to the publisher, and one set is always retained in the
proof-room of the printing-office. These proofs are characterized by
heavy black borders which enclose each page, and which frequently
render nervous authors apprehensive lest their books are to appear in
this funereal livery. These black borders are the prints of the
"guard-lines," which, rising to the level of the type, form a
protection to the pages and the plates in their progress through the
electrotyping department; but before the plates are finished up and
made ready for the pressroom, the guard-lines, which have been moulded
with the type, are removed.
After several sets of F-proofs have been taken, the form is carried to
the moulding or "battery" room of the electrotyping department, where
it leaves its perfect impress in the receptive wax. Thence it will
later be returned to the composing room and taken apart and the type
distributed, soon to be again set up in new combinations of letters
and words. The little types making a page of verse to-day may do duty
to-morrow in a page of a text-book in the higher mathematics.
After the type form has been warmed by placing it upon a steam table,
an impression of it is taken in a composition resembling wax which is
spread upon a metal slab to the thickness of about one-twelfth of an
inch. Both the surface of the type and of the wax are thoroughly
coated with plumbago or black lead, which serves as a lubricant to
prevent the wax from adhering to the type.
As the blank places in the form would not provide sufficient depth in
the plate, it is necessary to build them up in the wax mould by
dropping more melted wax in such places to a height corresponding to
the depth required in the plate, which is, of course, the reverse of
the mould, and will show corresponding depressions wherever the mould
has raised parts. If great care is not taken in this operation of
"building-up," wax is apt to flow over into depressions in the mould,
thereby effacing from it a part of the impression, and the plate
appears later without the letters or words thus unintentionally
blotted out. The reviser of the plate-proofs must watch carefully for
such cases.
The mould is now thoroughly brushed over again with a better quality
of black lead than before, and this furnishes the necessary metallic
surface without which the copper would not deposit. Then it is
"stopped out" by going over its edges with a hot iron, which melts the
wax, destroys the black-lead coating, and confines the deposit of
copper to its face.
After carefully clearing the face of the mould of all extraneous
matter by a stream of water from a force-pump, it is washed with a
solution of iron filings and blue vitriol which forms a primary copper
facing. It is then suspended by a copper-connecting strip in a bath
containing a solution of sulphate of copper, water, and sulphuric
acid. Through the instrumentality of this solution, and the action of
a current of electricity from a dynamo, copper particles separate
from sheets of copper (called "anodes," which are also suspended in
the bath) and deposit into the face of the mould, thus exactly
reproducing the elevations and depressions of the form of type or
illustrations of which the mould is an impression. After remaining in
the bath about two hours, when the deposit of copper should be about
as thick as a visiting card, the mould is taken from the bath and the
copper shell removed from the wax by pouring boiling hot water upon
it. A further washing in hot lye, and a bath in an acid pickle,
completely removes every vestige of wax from the shell. The back of
the shell is now moistened with soldering fluid and covered with a
layer of tin-foil, which acts as a solder between the copper and the
later backing of lead.
The shells are now placed face downward in a shallow pan, and melted
lead is poured upon them until of a sufficient depth; then the whole
mass is cooled off, and the solid lead plate with copper face is
removed from the pan and carried to the finishing room, where it is
planed down to a standard thickness of about one-seventh of an inch.
The various pages in the cast are sawed apart, the guard-lines
removed, side and foot edges bevelled, head edge trimmed square, and
the open or blank parts of the plate lowered by a routing machine to a
sufficient depth to prevent their showing later on the printed sheet.
Then a proof taken from the plates is carefully examined for
imperfections, and the plates are corrected or repaired accordingly,
and are now ready for the press.
Although, owing to the expense and to the fact that the plate is more
or less weakened thereby, it is desirable to avoid as much as possible
making alterations in the plates, they can be made, and the following
is the course generally pursued. If the change involves but a letter
or two, the letters in the plate are cut out and new type letters are
inserted; but if the alteration involves a whole word or more, it is
inadvisable to insert the lead type, owing to its being softer and
less durable than the copper-faced plate, and it will therefore soon
show more wear than the rest of the page; and so it is customary to
reset and electrotype so much of the page as is necessary to
incorporate the proposed alteration, and then to substitute this part
of the page for the part to be altered, by cutting out the old and
soldering in the new piece, which must of course exactly correspond in
size.
As a patched plate is apt at any time to go to pieces on the press,
and may destroy other plates around it, or may even damage the press
itself, it is generally considered best to cast a new plate from the
patched one. This does not, however, apply to plates in which only
single letters or words have been inserted, but to those which have
been cut apart their whole width for the insertion of one or more
lines.
The plates having been finally approved, they are made up in groups
(or "signatures") of sixteen, and packed in strong boxes for future
storage. Each box generally contains three of these groups, or
forty-eight plates, and is plainly marked with the title of the book
and the numbers of the signatures contained therein.
The longevity of good electrotype plates is dependent upon the care
with which they are handled and the quality of paper printed from
them; but with smooth book paper and good treatment it is entirely
possible to print from them a half million impressions without their
showing any great or material wear.
COMPOSITION BY THE LINOTYPE MACHINE
By Frederick J. Warburton.
The Linotype, pronounced by _London Engineering_ "the most wonderful
machine of the century," was not the product of a day. Its creator,
whose early training had never touched the printer's art, was
fortunately led to the study of that art, through the efforts of
others, whose education had prepared them to look for a better method
of producing print than that which had been in use since the days of
Gutenberg; but his invention abolished at one stroke composition and
distribution; introduced for the first time the line, instead of the
letter, as the unit of composition; brought into the art the idea of
automatically and instantly producing by a keyboard solid lines of
composed and justified type, to be once used and then melted down;
rendered it possible to secure for each issue new and sharp faces;
abolished the usual investment for type; cheapened the cost of
standing matter; removed all danger of "pieing," and at the same time
reduced greatly the cost of composition. The story is an interesting
one.
In the autumn of 1876, Charles T. Moore, a native of Virginia,
exhibited to a company of Washington reporters a printing machine upon
which he had been working for many years, and which he believed to be
then substantially complete. It was a machine of very moderate
dimensions, requiring a small motive power, and which bore upon a
cylinder in successive rows the characters required for printed
matter. By the manipulation of finger keys, while the cylinder was
kept in continuous forward motion, the characters were printed in
lithographic ink upon a paper ribbon, in proper relation to each
other; this ribbon was afterwards cut into lengths, arranged in the
form of a page, "justified," to a certain extent, by cutting between
and separating the words, and then transferred to a lithographic
stone, from which the print was made. Such print was not, of course,
of the highest character, but it was a beginning; and the machines
were used in Washington and New York, mainly in the transcription of
stenographic notes taken in law cases and in the proceedings of
legislative committees. A number of these machines was built, but
mechanical difficulties became so frequent that the parties interested
resolved, very wisely, before proceeding to build upon a large scale,
to put the machine into the hands of a thorough mechanical expert, so
that it might be tried out and a determination reached as to whether
or not it was a commercially practical one. At the head of the little
company of men who nurtured this enterprise and contributed most
largely by their labors and means to its development, were James O.
Clephane, a well-known law and convention reporter, and Andrew Devine,
then the Senate reporter of the Associated Press. In their search for
an expert, a Baltimore manufacturer named Hahl, who had constructed
some of these machines, was consulted, and upon his recommendation his
cousin, Ottmar Mergenthaler, was selected to undertake the work, and
thus the future inventor of the Linotype was discovered.
Mergenthaler was born in 1854, in Wuertemberg, Germany, had been a
watchmaker, and at this time was employed upon the finer parts of the
mechanical work done in Hahl's shop. The contract was that
Mergenthaler was to give his services at a rate of wages considerably
beyond what he was then receiving, and Hahl was to charge a reasonable
price for the use of his shop and the cost of material. The task
undertaken, however, proved to be a far larger one than had been
anticipated, and the means of the promoters were exhausted long before
the modifications and improvements continually presented had been
worked out. The circle of contributors was therefore necessarily
widened, and indeed that process went on for years, enough, could they
have been foreseen, to have dismayed and disheartened those who were
there "in the beginning." Mergenthaler and Moore, assisted by the
practical suggestions of Clephane and Devine, continued to work upon
the problem for about two years, by which time the lithographic
printing machine had become one which indented the characters in a
papier-mache strip, and this being cut up and adjusted upon a flat
surface in lines, the way was prepared for casting in type metal. The
next step of importance was the production of the "bar indenting
machine," a machine which carried a series of metal bars, bearing upon
their edges male printing characters, the bars being provided with
springs for "justifying" purposes. The papier-mache matrix lines
resulting from pressure against the characters were secured upon a
backing sheet, over this sheet was laid a gridiron frame containing a
series of slots, and into these slots type metal was poured by hand to
form slugs bearing the characters from which to print. This system was
immediately followed by a machine which cast the slugs automatically,
one line at a time, from the matrix sheets.
It was in this work that Mergenthaler received the education which
resulted in his great invention and in due time he presented his plans
for a machine which was known as the "Band" machine. In this machine
the characters required for printing were indented in the edges of a
series of narrow brass bands, each band containing a full alphabet,
and hanging, with spacers, side by side in the machine. The bands
tapered in thickness from top to bottom, the characters being arranged
upon them in the order of the width-space which they occupied. By
touching the keys of a keyboard similar to a typewriter, the bands
dropped successively, bringing the characters required into line at a
given point; a casting mechanism was then brought in contact with this
line of characters, molten metal forced against it through a mould of
the proper dimensions, and a slug with a printing surface upon its
face was thus formed. This was recognized as a great advance and was
hailed with delight by the now largely increased company. The
necessary funds were provided and the building of the new machine
undertaken. But Mergenthaler continued active, and before a second of
the "Band" machines could be built, he had devised a plan for dealing
with the letters by means of independent matrices. These matrices were
pieces of brass measuring 1-1/4 inches by 3/4 of an inch and of the
necessary thickness to accommodate the character, which it bore upon
its edge in intaglio; they were stored in the newly devised machine in
vertical copper tubes, from the bases of which they were drawn, as
required, by a mechanism actuated by finger keys, caught by the "ears"
as they dropped upon a miniature railway, and by a blast of air
carried one by one to the assembling point. Wedge spacers being
dropped in between the words, the line was carried to the front of the
mould, where "justification" and casting took place.
Success seemed at last to have been reached, and now the problem was,
first, how to obtain means to build machines, and second, how to
persuade printers to use them. The first of these was the easier,
although no slight task; the second was one of great difficulty. The
field for the machine then in sight was the newspaper, and the
newspaper must appear daily. The old method of printing from founder's
type, set for the most part by hand, was doing the work; a
revolutionary method by which the type was to be made and set by
machine, although promising great economies, was a dangerous
innovation and one from which publishers naturally shrank. They could
see the fate which awaited them if they adopted the new system and it
proved unsuccessful. However, a number of newspaper men, after a
careful investigation of the whole subject, determined to make the
trial; and the leaders of these were Whitelaw Reid of the _New York
Tribune_, Melvin Stone of the _Chicago News_ (to whom succeeded Victor
F. Lawson), and Walter N. Haldeman of the _Louisville Courier-Journal_.
Into these offices, then, the Linotype went. To Mr. Reid belongs the
honor of giving the machine a name--line of type--Linotype, and of
first using it to print a daily newspaper. Of the machine last
described, two hundred were built, but before they were half marketed,
the ingenious Mergenthaler presented a new form, which showed so
great an advance that it was perforce adopted, and the machines then
in use, although they gave excellent results, were in course of time
displaced. The new machine did away with the air blast, the matrices
being carried to the assembling point by gravity from magazines to be
hereafter described, and the distributing elevator was displaced by an
"arm" which lifted the lines of matrices, after the casting process,
to the top of the machine to be returned to their places.
The improvements made in the Linotype since Mergenthaler's time (who
died in 1899 at the early age of forty-five) have been very great;
indeed, almost a new machine has been created in doing what was
necessary to adapt it to the more and more exacting work which it was
called upon to perform in the offices of the great American book
publishers. These improvements have been largely the work of, or the
following out of suggestions made by, Philip T. Dodge, the patent
attorney of the parties interested in the enterprise from the
beginning, and later the president of the Mergenthaler Linotype
Company. They went on year after year under the supervision of a corps
of gifted mechanical experts, the chief of whom was John R. Rogers,
the inventor of the Typograph, until from the machine of Mergenthaler,
supplying through its ninety keys as many characters, a machine
appeared yielding three hundred and sixty different characters from
the like keyboard. The magazines, too, were capable of being charged
with matrices representing any face from Agate (5-point) to English
(14-point), and even larger faces for display advertising and for
initial letters, by special contrivances which cannot be described
without carrying this article beyond reasonable limits. Among the
ingenious devices added are: the Rogers systems of setting rule and
figure tables, box heads, etc.; the reversal of the line so as to set
Hebrew characters in their proper relation; the production of
printers' rules of any pattern; the making of ornamental borders; a
device for the casting of the same line an indefinite number of times
from one setting. The machine was also greatly simplified in its
construction.
The amount of money expended in the enterprise before the point of
profit was reached was very great; it aggregated many millions of
dollars; but the promoters had faith in the success of the machine and
taxed themselves ungrudgingly. Among those who contributed largely to
the ultimate result by substantial aid and wise counsel in the conduct
of the business the name of D. O. Mills should be particularly
mentioned.
It was Mergenthaler's great good fortune to have had as his supporters
many men of the character of those mentioned above, and in thus being
relieved of all financial anxiety and permitted to work out thoroughly
and without delay every idea that suggested itself either to him or
to the ingenious men who had been drawn into the enterprise. His
profits, too, were proportionate to the company's success, and
although he did not live to enjoy them for his natural term of years,
he had the satisfaction of knowing that a handsome income would
continue to flow into the hands of his wife and children.
The company's principal works are situated in the Borough of Brooklyn,
New York City, and have a space devoted to manufacturing purposes of
about one hundred and sixty thousand square feet. Approximately one
hundred Linotypes, besides a large number of smaller machines and a
vast quantity of supplies, are turned out from there every month; but
the growing demand from abroad for American-built machines has led to
the consideration of plans for an entirely new establishment, to be
built in accordance with the latest modes of factory construction.
About ten thousand Linotypes are now in daily use.
The machine as at present built is shown in part by the accompanying
cut, and its operation may be briefly described as follows:--
The Linotype machine contains, as its fundamental elements, several
hundred single matrices, which consist of flat plates of brass having
on one edge a female letter or matrix proper, and in the upper end a
series of teeth, used for selecting and distributing them to their
proper places in the magazine. These matrices are held in the
magazine of the machine, a channel of it being devoted to each
separate character, and there are also channels which carry quads of
definite thickness for use in tabular work, etc. The machine is so
organized that on manipulating the finger keys, matrices are selected
in the order in which their characters are to appear in print, and
they are assembled in line side by side at the point marked _G_ in the
illustration, with wedge-shaped spaces between the words. This series
of assembled matrices forms a line matrix, or, in other words, a line
of female type adapted to form a line of raised printed characters on
a slug which is cast against them. After the matrix line has been
composed, it is automatically transferred to the face of a slotted
mould, as shown at _K_, and while in this position the wedge spaces
are pushed up through the line, and in this manner exact and
instantaneous justification is secured. Behind the mould there is a
melting pot, _M_, heated by a flame from a gas or oil burner, and
containing a constant supply of molten metal. The pot has a perforated
mouth which fits against and closes the rear side of the mould, and it
contains a pump plunger mechanically actuated. After the matrix line
is in place against the front of the mould, the plunger falls and
forces the molten metal through the mouth pot into the mould, against
and into the characters in the matrix line. The metal instantly
solidifies, forming a slug having on its edge raised characters
formed by the matrices. The mould wheel next makes a partial
revolution, turning the mould from its original horizontal position to
a vertical one in front of an ejector blade, which, advancing from the
rear through the mould, pushes the slug from the latter into the
receiving galley at the front. A vibrating arm advances the slugs
laterally in the galley, assembling them in column or page form ready
for use. To insure absolute accuracy in the height and thickness of
the slugs, knives are arranged to act upon the base and side faces as
they are being carried toward the galley. After the matrices have
served their purpose in front of the mould, they are shifted laterally
until the teeth in their upper ends engage the horizontal ribs on the
bar _R_; this bar then rises, as shown by the dotted lines, lifting
the matrices to the distributor at the top of the machine, but leaving
the wedge spacers, _I_, behind, to be shifted to their box, _H_. The
teeth in the top of each matrix are arranged in a special order,
according to the character it contains, the number or relation of its
teeth differing from that of a matrix containing any other character,
and this difference insures proper distribution. A distributor bar,
_T_, is fixed horizontally over the upper end of the magazine and
bears on its lower edge longitudinal ribs or teeth, adapted to engage
the teeth of the matrices and hold the latter in suspension as they
are carried along the bar over the mouths of the magazine channels by
means of screws which engage their edges. Each matrix remains in
engagement with the bar until it arrives at the required point,
directly over its own channel, and at this point for the first time
its teeth bear such relation to those on the bar that it is permitted
to disengage and fall into the channel. It is to be particularly noted
that the matrices pursue a circulatory course through the machine,
starting singly from the bottom of the magazine and passing thence to
the line being composed, thence in the line to the mould, and finally
back singly to the top of the magazine. This circulation permits the
operations of composing one line, casting from a second, and
distributing a third, to be carried on concurrently, and enables the
machine to run at a speed exceeding that at which an operator can
finger the keys. A change from one face of type to any other is
effected by simply drawing off one magazine and substituting another
containing the face required, so that the variety of faces needs to be
limited only by the number of them which the printer chooses to carry
in his stock.
[Illustration: A Linotype Matrix.]
[Illustration: Diagram of the Linotype Machine.]
[Illustration: Linotype Slugs.]
[Illustration: The Linotype Melting Pot and Mold Wheel.]
Matrices are also made bearing two characters, as the ordinary body
character and the corresponding italics, or a body character and a
small capital or a black face, and either of these is brought into use
as desired by the touching of a key, so that if, for instance, it is
required to print a word in italics or black face at any part of the
line being composed, it is effected in this way, and composition in
the body letter is resumed by releasing the key.
The latest pattern of machine is supplied with two magazines,
superimposed one above the other, each with its own distributing
apparatus. The operator can elect, by moving a lever, from which
magazine the letter wanted will fall--the same keyboard serving for
both. It is thus possible to set two sizes of type from one machine,
each matrix showing two characters as described above.
COMPOSITION BY THE MONOTYPE MACHINE
By Paul Nathan.
Though for more than half a century machines adapted for the setting
of type have been in use, it is only within a few years that the
average printer of books has been enabled to avail himself of the
services of a mechanical substitute for the hand compositor. The fact
seems to be that despite the ingenuity that was brought to bear upon
the problem, the pioneer inventors were satisfied to obtain speed,
with its resultant economy, at the expense of the quality of the
finished product. Thus, until comparatively recently, machine
composition was debarred from the establishments of the makers of fine
books, and found its chief field of activity in the office of
newspaper publishers and others to whom a technically perfect output
was not essential so long as a distinct saving of time and labor could
be assured. Thanks, however, to persistent effort on the part of those
inventors who would not be satisfied until a machine was evolved which
should equal in its output the work of the hand compositor, the
problem has been triumphantly solved, and to-day the very finest
examples of the printed book owe their being to the mechanical
type-setter.
The claim is made for one of these machines, the monotype, that, so
far from lowering the standard of composition, its introduction into
the offices of the leading book printers of the world has had the
contrary effect, and that it is only the work of the most skilful hand
compositor which can at every point be compared with that turned out
by the machine. The fact that the type for some recent books of the
very highest class, so-called "editions de luxe," has been cast and
set by the monotype machine would seem to afford justification for
this claim, extravagant as at first glance it may appear.
The monotype machine is, to use a Hibernicism, two machines, which,
though quite separate and unrelated, are yet mutually interdependent
and necessary the one to the other. One of these is the composing
machine, or keyboard, the other the caster, or type-founder. To begin
with the former: this is in appearance not unlike a large typewriter
standing upon an iron pedestal, the keyboard which forms its principal
feature having two hundred and twenty-five keys corresponding to as
many different characters. This keyboard is generally placed in some
such position in the printing office as conduces to the health and
comfort of the operator, for there is no more noise or disagreeable
consequence attendant on its operation than in the case of the
familiar typewriter, which it so markedly resembles.
It has been said that the machines are interdependent; yet they are
entirely independent as to time and place. The keyboard, as a matter
of fact, acts as a sort of go-between betwixt the operator and the
casting-machine, setting the latter the task it has to perform and
indicating to it the precise manner of its performance. A roll of
paper, which as the keyboard is operated continuously unwinds and is
rewound, forms the actual means of communication between the two
machines. The operator, as he (or she, for in increasing numbers women
are being trained as monotype operators) sits facing the keyboard, has
before him, conveniently hanging from an adjustable arm, the "copy"
that has to be set in type. As he reads it he manipulates the keys
precisely as does an operator on a typewriter, but each key as it is
depressed, in place of writing a letter, punches certain round holes
in the roll of paper. Enough keys are depressed to form a word, then
one is touched to form a space, and so on until just before the end of
the line is reached (the length of this line, or the "measure," as it
is termed, has at the outset been determined upon by the setting of an
indicator) a bell rings, and the operator knows that he must prepare
to finish the line with a completed word or syllable and then proceed
to justify it. "Justification," as it is termed, is perhaps the
most difficult function of either the hand or the machine compositor.
On the deftness with which this function is discharged depends almost
entirely the typographic excellence of the printed page. To justify is
to so increase the distance between the words by the introduction of
type-metal "spaces" as to enable the characters to exactly fill the
line. To make these spaces as nearly equal as possible is the aim of
every good printer, and in proportion as he succeeds in his endeavor
the printed page will please the eye and be free from those
irregularities of "white space," which detract from its legibility as
well as from its artistic appearance.
[Illustration: The Monotype Keyboard.]
[Illustration: The Monotype Caster.]
That the monotype should not only "justify" each line automatically,
but justify with a mathematical exactness impossible of attainment by
the more or less rough-and-ready methods of the most careful human
type-setter is at first thought a little bewildering. The fact
remains, however, that it does so, and another triumph is to be
recorded for man's "instruments of precision."
Monotype justification is effected as follows: an ingenious
registering device waits, as it were, on all the movements of the
operator, with the result that when he has approached as close to the
end of the line as he dare go, he has merely to glance at a
cylindrical dial in front of him. The pointer on this dial signifies
to him which of the "justifying keys" he must depress. He touches
them in accordance therewith, and the line is justified, or rather it
_will_ be justified when, as will be seen later on, the casting
machine takes up its part of the work. That is the outward
manifestation; it remains to be seen in what manner the machine
accomplishes its task. Firstly, the machine automatically notes the
exact width of the space left over at the line's end; then, also
automatically, it records the number of spaces between the words
already set which form the incompleted line; finally, it divides the
residuary space into as many parts as there are word-spaces, and
allots to each of these one of the parts. Thus if there is one-tenth
of an inch to spare at the end of the line and ten word-spaces, then
one-hundredth of an inch added to each of these spaces will justify
the line with mathematical accuracy. But the machine will do something
more wonderful than this. It will separately justify separate parts of
the same line. The utility of this is comprehended when it is pointed
out that when the "copy" to be set consists of what is technically
termed "tabular" matter, the various columns of figures or so forth
composing it are not composed vertically but horizontally and so each
section must of necessity be justified separately.
Should the compositor be required to "over-run illustrations," as the
term goes, in other words to leave a space in which the "block" for a
cut may be inserted, so that it may have type all around it or on one
side of it only, the machine offers no difficulty at all. All that the
operator has to do in this case is to carry the composition of each
line as far as necessary and then complete it with a row of "quads,"
or spaces. Thus, when the composition is cast by the casting-machine
the space into which the block is to fit is occupied by a square of
"quads." These have only to be lifted out, the block inserted, and the
trick is done.
We will then imagine that the operator has finished his task. Of the
bank of two hundred and twenty-five keys in front of him (the
equivalent of a full "font" of type, with figures, italics, and
symbols complete), he has depressed in turn those necessary to spell
out the words of his copy, he has put a space between the words he has
justified in accordance with the dictates of the justifying dial, has
arranged the spaces for the insertion of blocks or illustrations, and
as the result of his labors he has merely a roll of perforated paper
not unlike that which operates the now familiar pianola or
piano-player. Yet this roll of paper is the informing spirit, as it
were, of the machine. Its production is the only portion of the work
of the monotype for which a human directing agency is necessary, every
other function being purely automatic.
The roll of perforated ribbon is lifted off the keyboard and put in
place on the casting-and setting-machine. As it is swiftly unwound it
delivers to the casting-machine the message with which the operator
has charged it. Through the perforations he has made compressed air is
forced. Now, as has been explained, the holes correspond to the
characters or typographic symbols of the "copy," and the jet of air
forced through them sets in motion the machinery, which controls what
is known as the "matrix-case," a rectangular metal frame about five
inches square, which contains two hundred and twenty-five matrices, or
little blocks of hardened copper, each one of which is a mould
corresponding to a character on the keyboard. This frame is mounted
horizontally on a slide, which by an ingenious mechanical movement
brings any one of the two hundred and twenty-five matrices over what
is termed the mould. The particular matrix thus placed in position is
determined by those particular holes punched in the paper ribbon at
the keyboard, through which the compressed air is at that precise
moment being forced.
The mould referred to is closed by the matrix, a jet of molten metal
is forced in, and in an instant the type is cast, its face being
formed by the matrix, its body or shank by the mould. The cast type is
ejected and takes its place in the galley, to be followed by another
and that by yet others in their regular rotation. It must, however, be
pointed out that the composition emerges from the machine hind part
foremost and upside down as it were. This enables the justification
holes, which were originally punched at the _end_ and not at the
beginning of each line, to direct the proper casting of the spaces in
the lines to which they correspond.
It will be seen, therefore, that the casting portion of the monotype
machine is actually automatic. It performs all its operations without
human assistance or direction. Occasionally it will stop of its own
accord and refuse to work, but this merely means that it has found
something amiss with the perforated instructions, a mistake as to the
length of a line or so forth, and it refuses to continue until the
workman in charge of it puts the error right, then it starts on again
and continues on its even course, casting letters and spaces and
punctuation marks, and arranging them first in words, then in lines,
next in paragraphs, and finally in a column on the galley.
The casting-machine works at so high a rate of speed (casting from one
hundred and forty to one hundred and fifty characters per minute) that
it can in its output keep well ahead of the operator on the keyboard.
This, however, so far from being an inconvenience or leading to any
loss of time, is an advantage, for four casting-machines, which can
easily be looked after by one man and a boy, can cope with the work of
five keyboard operators, or if all are engaged on the same character
of composition two casters can attend to the output of three
keyboards. This suggests a reference to the facilities offered by the
machine for the production of matter composed in various faces of
type. The machine casts practically all sizes in general use from
five-point, or "pearl," to fourteen point, or "English." Owing to the
number of characters included in the matrix-case, it can at the same
time set upper and lower case, small capitals, and upper and lower
case italics, or any similar combination of two or even three
different faced alphabets. To change from one complete set of matrices
to another is a simple operation, performed in about a minute of time,
while the changing of mould, which insures a corresponding change in
the size of the "body" of the type, takes about ten minutes.
To return, however, to the perforated roll of paper, which it must be
imagined has passed entirely through the casting-machine and has been
automatically re-rolled. Its present function has come to an end, and
it is now lifted out of its position on the machine and placed away
for future reference in a drawer or cabinet. This is a by no means
unimportant feature of the Monotype, for it is thus no longer
necessary to preserve the heavy, cumbrous, and expensive "plates" of a
book in anticipation of a second edition being called for at some
future time. As a matter of fact, indeed, "plates," or electrotypes of
monotyped matter, are by no means a necessity. Many thousand
impressions can with safety be printed from the types themselves, and
these latter at the conclusion of the job can be remelted and new type
cast from the resultant metal. The paper rolls, occupying but a few
square inches of space, can be kept, and when the time arrives may be
passed through the casting-machine again, to supply a new printing
surface identical in every respect with the original.
But the galley of monotyped composition has been waiting during this
digression. It is lifted off the machine by the attendant and a rough
proof pulled, which is corrected by the proof-reader. The advantage of
the individual types is then apparent, for the composition is
corrected and otherwise handled precisely as would be the case had the
matter been set entirely by hand. Indeed, the operation consumes even
less time, for the discarded characters, instead of being placed back
carefully in their proper compartments in the case for future use, are
merely thrown aside by the corrector, to find their way eventually
into the melting pot. It may be added, however, that the Monotype
itself furnishes the types used in the correction of its
matter--"sorts," as they are termed by the printer. These are cast by
the machine during the times when it is not employed upon more
important work.
Indeed, an attachment has recently been added to the machine, whereby
its use as a type-caster is still further extended. As has been
mentioned, the machine casts and composes type of any sized face, from
five to fourteen point. With, however, the attachment referred to, it
can now cast for the use of the hand compositor complete fonts of type
up to and including thirty-six point in size, so that an entire book,
title-page included, nowadays often owes its typographical "dress" to
the ingenious machine known as "The Lanston Monotype."
PROOF-READING
By George L. Miller.
When part of a book has been set up in type, in what is called "galley
form," an impression is taken, technically known as "first proof," and
this proof is handed to the proof-reader. This long-suffering
individual lives in a chronic state of warfare with the compositors on
the one hand and the author on the other. His first duty is to see
that the proof agrees with the author's manuscript, that nothing has
been omitted, and nothing inserted that is not in the copy. He must
see, further, that the spelling, punctuation, capitalization, grammar,
and so forth, are correct, and the book set according to the "style"
ordered. He first of all, therefore, compares the proof with the
manuscript, or an assistant reads the manuscript aloud, the
proof-reader listening intently for any variation from the proof
before him and marking any errors he may find.
Now this seems easy enough, and if every author prepared his copy
carefully, so that there could be no possible mistake as to his
meaning, nothing would be easier; but in practice a number of
questions arise which would never be thought of by an outsider. On a
new work being put in hand, some half-dozen compositors are given a
few sheets of copy apiece, and if the proof-reader happens to be
readily accessible he is bombarded within the first half-hour or so
with, "How am I to spell centre?" "Has travelling one or two l's?"
"Shall I capitalize the word State?" "Shall I spell out two hundred?"
"Do you want ships' names in Italic?" and so on and so on. As to
punctuation, every compositor thinks he knows better than proof-reader
and author combined and follows his own sweet will. As every error on
the first proof must be corrected by the compositor at his own
expense, here arises the cause of war mentioned in our opening
paragraph.
Much has been written about printers' errors and the mistakes of "the
intelligent compositor." Aside from those caused by illegible
manuscript, mistakes arise from faulty "distribution," that is to say,
the type has been thrown into the wrong boxes. Thus we get _c_ for
_e_, _h_ for _n_, _y_ for _p_, etc., these boxes being contiguous and
the letters of the same thickness; if, for instance, the compositor
picked up _u_ instead of _t_ the difference in thickness would at once
be noticed by him and the mistake rectified. Then letters are
sometimes set upside down and we find letters of a different "face"
which have got into the case by mistake. In type set on machine,
errors arise from striking adjacent keys, or some matrix will stick
in the channel and make its appearance later, sometimes even in the
next line. But the chief source of error is illegible or carelessly
prepared manuscript, and to the author's slips of the pen must be
added in these days the slips of the typewriter.
It is quite possible for a man to be an expert in astronomy, medicine,
or natural history and yet have hazy ideas on spelling and
punctuation. "When in doubt use a dash" is an old standing joke, but
some authors use dashes all the time, making them do duty for commas,
semicolons, and periods. They will write indifferently 4 or four and
frequently their capital _a_'s _c_'s, _m_'s, and _n_'s cannot be
distinguished from the small letters. They will commence a story
telling that the "Captain" did so and so, and lo, on the next page the
"captain" sinks into a common noun; and so with "Father," "mother,"
"Aunt," "uncle," etc. Just see what the story would look like if set
according to copy!
Now the proof-reader is expected to rectify all this, thereby drawing
on his head the wrath of the compositor, who says "he followed the
copy," and occasionally incurring the wrath of the author as well for
departing therefrom. Sometimes instructions are given that the
author's spelling, punctuation, etc., are to be carefully followed,
when of course no question can arise; and the proof-reader will query
on the proof submitted to the author anything which does not seem to
him to be correct.
The great newspapers and magazines have what they call a "style sheet"
for the guidance of their compositors and proof-readers and insist on
its being faithfully followed. Only by this means could uniformity in
the appearance of the paper be secured. In this style sheet careful
and minute directions are given for the use of capital letters, the
use of Italic, spelling out of numbers, compound words, etc. In the
Government printing-office in Washington they have a style book of
some two hundred pages. Some book printing-offices have what they call
"the style of the office," which will be followed if no instructions
are received from the author to the contrary, while some publishing
houses with connections in England insist on English spelling being
followed in all their books, as books with American spelling will not
sell over there.
Here is an outline of an "office style":--
"Spell and divide words according to Webster's dictionary.
"Capitalize President and all Secretaries of State, Senator,
Congressman, Governor, Government (of U.S. or other country), King,
Emperor, Republican (and all political parties), all pronouns relating
to the Deity, Legislature, State, Nation, Street, Avenue, (Hudson)
River.
"Use small capitals for B.C., A.D., A.M., and P.M.
"Use Italics for names of ships, names of characters in plays, names
of newspapers and magazines, and all foreign words.
"Use quotation marks for names of books.
"Spell out all numbers under 100.
"Compound co-operate, to-day, to-morrow.
"Use period after per cent., and Roman numerals I. VI., etc.
"Bible references in this style: 2 Kings vii. 29.
"All poetical quotations to be in smaller type than text."
Now, some authors will not accept the above style and insist on one
entirely different. Many will accept Webster's spelling but draw the
line at _theater_, which they want spelt _theatre_, and balk at
_skillfully_ and _skillful_ or _installment_. They will order spelling
according to the Standard Dictionary, yet will not accept _sulfur_,
_rime_, or _worshiping_. One man wants all his numbers in figures, and
another does not like compound words. Still another abhors dashes or
colons, or quotation marks, and yet another will not have Italic type
used in his work.
So it frequently happens that a proof-reader will have passing through
his hands three or four books in entirely different styles, each of
which he must bear in mind and conform to if he would avoid trouble.
But whatever style be adopted, it is essential that it be strictly
adhered to throughout the work; therefore in large printing-offices
where there are many proof-readers care is always taken that, however
many compositors may be engaged in setting up the work, the same
reader handles it from start to finish.
If the proof-reader finds any passages whose meaning is not clear, or
sentences of faulty construction, he will call the author's attention
thereto. He will also call attention to Biblical or poetical
quotations which he may know to be incorrect. Many authors will quote
Scripture or poetry from memory, which is found to vary in many
respects from the original on verification. And then they complain
because "the printer did not set it up right,"--when they are charged
for corrections. But why should the compositor bear the expense of
correction--or the master-printer for that matter--when the copy was
clearly wrong in the first instance? A moment's thought will show the
injustice of such a procedure.
From what we have said may be seen the importance of the reading of
"first proof." Many offices have the proofs read twice, first without
referring to the copy, when the more glaring errors may be corrected
at leisure, and then again carefully read by copy. The proofs are then
returned to the compositors for correction, each man correcting the
portion he set up.
A second proof is now taken which is put in the hands of another
proof-reader (or "reviser") for revision. His business is to see that
the corrections of the first reader have all been duly made. Should
he find any palpable errors that have been overlooked by the first
reader, he will call his attention thereto and on approval mark them.
It may be necessary to return the proofs again to the compositors for
correction, and even a third time. When found to be what is called
"clean," they are sent to the author (usually in duplicate) along with
the copy.
And now the author sees himself in print, perhaps for the first time.
He will notice that his work presents a different appearance from what
it did in manuscript. Here and there a passage can be improved, a
phrase polished, an idea amplified--the same man will think
differently at different times; and lo, here, the stupid printer has
made him speak of a marine landscape when he wrote Maine landscape!
(That proof-reader must be disciplined.) And here a sentence has been
left out which he wrote on the back of his copy and has been skipped
by compositor, copy-holder, proof-reader, and reviser alike! Then the
queries of the proof-reader must be answered, and a few commas here
and there would improve things,--and so he proceeds to mark up his
proofs, for all of which corrections he has to pay at so much per
hour--second cause of war.
The proofs are now returned to the printer and corrected, and a revise
(after passing through the proof-reader's hands) sent to the author,
which process may be repeated _ad infinitum_, until the author gives
the order to make up into pages.
The type is now handed over to the "make-up," and inasmuch as his work
must be carefully revised by the proof-reader, we may describe it
here. Having first of all made a gauge showing the size of the
page--supposing the page to be seven inches deep, he will cut a notch
in a thin piece of wood showing that size--he must "cast off" or
estimate how the pages are going to "break." There must not be any
short lines, or "widows" as the printers call them,--that is, the
concluding lines of paragraphs which are not full length,--at the
heads of pages. The first line of a paragraph should not appear at the
bottom of a page (but this rule is more honored in the breach than the
observance), and the concluding page of a chapter should not be less
than one-quarter page in length. These difficulties are avoided by
"saving" a line here and there,--that is, where the last line of a
paragraph consists of only one or two words, in squeezing them into
the line above, or by "making" lines, which is accomplished by
spreading long lines out and driving one or two words over. Any line
containing one word only at the end of a paragraph ought to overlap
the indention of the first line of the next paragraph. Such a word as
"is" or "it" will not do so and should be turned back to the line
above. Then again, where cuts or illustrations are inserted in the
text a page will sometimes break in the middle of a cut, which, as
Euclid says, is impossible, therefore the cut must be moved, sometimes
necessitating slight alterations in the text, _e.g._ "The following
illustration" must be altered to "The illustration on the next page,"
or "The illustration above," as the case may be. And here we may
remark that all cuts or illustrations should be made and furnished to
the printer in time to be inserted in the first proof. The writer
calls to mind an instance where the cuts arrived after the whole book
had been made up into pages, necessitating a re-make-up at
considerable expense.
Proofs of the pages being furnished to the proof-reader, he first of
all compares them with the author's last galley proof to see that
nothing has been omitted (frequently lines fall off the ends of
galleys), that they are in due sequence and "join up," and that the
author's last corrections have been made. He then sees to the
pagination, the running heads at top of each page, and sees that the
foot-notes have been inserted in the pages where they belong and
verifies the reference marks. The author will probably have used the *
[symbol: dagger][symbol: double-dagger] Sec. and they will have been so
set up, as they appeared on each page of the original manuscript. But
when in type and made up into pages they will probably fall
differently, the note bearing the Sec. mark may come on the following
page and of course must be altered to an *, a corresponding change
being made in the text. A much better plan is to number foot-notes 1,
2, 3 and so on, when no alteration on making-up will be required.
The proof-reader must also look after the "widows" and other matters
before mentioned. If the book is set in linotype, the make-up will
have been unable to make these changes. He will simply allow the
proper space and the changes required will be marked by the
proof-reader and a number of pages corrected at a time. This is a
point of economy.
All corrections having been made and revised, proofs are submitted to
the author for his final approval. The author may find it advisable to
make alterations even after his book is made up into pages,
necessitating further revises; but everything finally being in order,
he gives the order to print or to electrotype.
If the pages are to be electrotyped or made into plates, they are
"locked up" in an iron frame called a "chase," two or four together,
and proofs are given to the proof-reader for a final reading.
If the book is to be printed from the type, the pages are "imposed" in
sheets of eight, sixteen, or thirty-two, so arranged that the folios
will be in order when the sheet is folded up. They now make what is
called a "form," and a proof of this--known as the "stone proof"--is
taken for final reading.
The proof-reader now reads the work all through, looking carefully to
the spelling, punctuation, and grammar, as in reading "first proof,"
and more especially looking out for bad or imperfect letters. If many
corrections have been made, the type is very apt to be broken and the
spacing between words to become irregular. All imperfect letters must
be replaced and bad spacing rectified. Then again, commas, hyphens,
periods, and thin letters, such as _l_, _f_, or _t_, are apt to slip
out of place at the ends of lines. And here a serious source of error
may be mentioned which can be found out only by reading the whole page
over. In type set on the linotype machine every line is one solid
piece of metal. Any correction to be made involves resetting the whole
line. Now the compositor in inserting the new line is very apt to take
out a line _beginning with the same word_, replacing it with the new
one, thus making a very serious blunder, and of course the
proof-reader or author who sees the next proof has no intimation that
the wrong line has been tampered with. On reading the page over,
however, it will be noticed that something is wrong, previous proofs
can be referred to, and the mistake rectified.
The proofs having been finally read, revised, and marked O. K., the
pages are sent to the foundry or to press, as the case may be.
But the proof-reader has not done with them yet. If the book is
electrotyped, the plates may turn out faulty; sometimes the type will
sink in places under the enormous pressure applied in moulding. It is
therefore highly advisable that proofs should be taken of the plates
and gone over for imperfections; this may save valuable time later
when the book is on the press. Some authors don't mind the expense of
making changes in their work even after the pages are cast.
The proof-reader only takes leave of the book when it is on the press
and all is ready to go ahead and print. A sheet is submitted to him
which he must _vise_ for bad letters, see that nothing has fallen out
in transit to the pressroom, and that the pressman has not taken out
any cuts to underlay and reinserted them upside down. He will also
verify the folios again (if the book is printed from plates this will
be the first opportunity of doing so) and see that the pages join up
to what has gone before. Here his work ends.
PAPER MAKING
By Herbert W. Mason.
The word "paper" derives its name from the ancient Greek word
"papyrus," the name of the material used in ancient times for writing
purposes, and manufactured by the Egyptians from the papyrus plant,
and which was, up to the eighth century, the best-known writing
material. Probably the earliest manufacturers of paper were the
Chinese, who used the mulberry tree and other like plants for this
purpose, and may be called the inventors of our modern paper
manufacturing, as they have practised the art of paper making for
almost two thousand years.
In the ordinary book papers of to-day the materials used are largely
rags and wood fibres. "Esparto," a Spanish grass, is used in England
to a great extent, but it is too expensive to import to this country,
and is, therefore, not used here. Many other materials could be used
to advantage, such as "bagasse," the waste material of sugar cane, and
corn stalks, both of which make good book paper; also hemp, wild
clover, and other plants which have a good fibre.
Only two kinds of rags are used, linen and cotton, of both of which
there are several grades. Linen rags make a very strong paper, and are
mostly used in manufacturing fine writing papers, ledgers, and covers
for books where strength is necessary. Cotton rags may be divided into
three distinct kinds, whites, blues, and colors, and these in turn are
subdivided into several grades. Most of the blue rags are now imported
from Germany, Belgium, and France; none from Japan as formerly. The
whites and colors are bought in this country.
Wood fibres are divided into two classes, the harder woods, such as
spruce, fir, etc., and the softer, such as poplar, cottonwood, etc.
There are three ways of reducing or disintegrating wood fibres: first,
by sulphurous acid or bi-sulphite of lime fumes, which gives the name
"sulphite fibre"; second, by caustic soda, which is called "soda
fibre"; and third, by grinding. The last is usually only used for
stock in very low grades of paper, such as newspaper and wrapping
paper; it is rarely used for book paper. Many persons think that this
ground wood, which is merely spruce ground very fine into pulp, is
used in book papers; but if it were, the paper would not last long,
and would almost immediately discolor on exposure to light and air.
There is a theory that no paper made from wood fibres is lasting, and
that therefore high grades of paper for fine books should be made
only of rags, but this is erroneous, for wood stock and rag stock
nowadays are treated and prepared in the same way, and only
practically pure cellulose matter goes into the paper. It would be a
different matter, however, if _ground_ wood were used for fine papers,
for in this stock the cellulose matter is not separated.
Rags are usually purchased by the paper manufacturer in solid bales,
which have been graded into whites, blues, or colors. After being
opened, they are thrown into a thrashing machine, which thrashes and
shakes out the greater part of the loose dust and dirt. Later, they
are sorted more carefully by hand into several grades, according to
their colors and cleanliness. All the woollens, gunny, buttons, hooks
and eyes, silks, and foreign materials are thrown aside. As the rags
are usually too large to be thrown into the boilers to be cooked, they
are cut into very small pieces by means of sharp revolving knives, to
which they are fed rapidly from an endless belt. When cut, they are
packed into a revolving kettle or boiler, called a "rotary," and
cooked with caustic soda and lime for several hours, to disintegrate
the fibres, separate the cellulose matter, and "start" the colors. The
rags, after coming out of the boiler, look very dark, and are all
mashed together. They are then thrown into a tub of water and revolved
horizontally by means of a large wheel fitted with radial knives,
which tear and bruise them while water continually runs in and out,
carrying away the dirt. In a few hours the rags look much cleaner, and
a small amount of chlorate of lime and sulphuric acid is run in to
bleach them white. After having been thoroughly stirred for a while,
the stock is run into what is called a drainer, where it is allowed to
stand for several hours to drain off as much water as possible. Liquid
chloride of lime, which is used for bleaching, and sulphuric acid is
then run over the fibre, which in turn is drained and washed off
again. By this time the pulp is white enough to be sent to the
beaters, to be prepared for the paper machines, and is called
"half-stock."
Wood fibres for book papers are usually treated in the same general
way as rags. First, the logs are peeled and are cut into suitable
lengths to be thrown into a wood chopper and cut up in very small
pieces. If the wood is treated by sulphurous acid or bi-sulphite of
lime fumes, it is called the "sulphite process"; if by caustic soda,
the "soda process." This wood is cooked in large upright kettles
called "digesters." In one case the sulphite fumes are allowed to
permeate through the wood under a high pressure, and in the other the
caustic soda is put in "straight," and the wood is cooked under a high
pressure of steam. This is done to dissolve out all the gum and
resins, in order to leave the pure cellulose matter. After the cooking
is done, the stock has to be bleached in very much the same way as
the rags and washed thoroughly before it is ready for the "beaters."
For "beating," the stock is thrown into a large revolving tub. Rag and
wood fibre may be mixed in different proportions, according to the
grade of the paper wanted. The stock is then washed a little to be
sure that it is clean and white. Water at first is mixed in with the
fibre until it is so diluted that it will flow freely; then it is
beaten for several hours by means of an iron wheel covered with iron
or steel knives about one-quarter of an inch thick, which revolves
over an iron bed-plate with similar knives. During this beating
process, clay is mixed with the stock, mainly to give the paper a
well-filled and better appearance, and not, as most people think, to
add weight, although this is sometimes an object. Sizing material is
also added, which helps to keep the fibres together and hold the ink
in printing. If it is desired to give the paper a white shade, a small
amount of aniline blue or pink is mixed in; otherwise it is called
"natural" or "unblued."
The beating part of the process of paper making is the most important.
The stock has to be beaten up so that all the fibres are separated and
broken into just the right lengths according to the weight and
strength of the paper to be made. The harder the roll is set down on
the bed plate, the shorter the fibre will be and _vice versa_, but if
the roll is not put down hard, the stock has to be beaten so much
longer.
"Machining" may be divided into five processes:--
_First._ When the stock leaves the beater it is run into a large
"stuff" chest, and is continually being stirred so that it will not be
lumpy. By this time the pulp is about as clean as possible and is
ready for the paper machines. The first thing to be done on the
machine is to dilute the stock with pure water to the consistency of
buttermilk, according to the thickness of the paper required. Then
this liquid stock runs through what are called "sand settlers," which
are supposed to collect what dirt, iron, etc., remain.
_Second._ From the sand settlers the stock runs on to a screen,
through which it is drawn by means of suction. This process prevents
fibres which are lumpy and too long from getting on to the machine,
and allows only those of a certain size and length to go forward to be
made into paper. An endless and very fine wire cloth, which is
continually moving at the same rate of speed as the rest of the paper
machine, takes the stock after it has been screened. This is the first
step toward making the material into actual paper. Thick rubber straps
on each side of the wire determine the width of the paper. This wire
shakes a little in order to weave the fibres together while in a state
of suspension. At this period the stock looks like thick cream, but
soon changes its appearance to the form of a sheet more or less solid
on coming to the end of the wire, where there is what is called a
"dandy,"--a roll covered with similar wire cloth pressing lightly on
the paper as it runs along the wire. Designs in relief on the surface
of this roll produce the well-known marks called "water marks." Just
beyond the "dandy," underneath the wire, is a suction box which draws
enough of the water out so that the paper can go through the "couch"
roll at the end of the wire without being crumbled.
[Illustration: Cross-section of a Paper Machine.]
_Third._ The couch roll is a small hard roll covered with a thick felt
called a "jacket," and is used on the paper machine to prevent the
paper from being crushed, for it presses out much of the water and
flattens the paper so that it will pass from the wire to the felts
without breaking and through the press rolls without crushing. From
this couch roll the paper leaves the wire and is carried along on an
endless woollen felt to the press rolls, which are made of hard
rubber, steel, or brass. These rolls press the fibres together well,
squeezing out more of the water and flattening the sheet.
_Fourth._ From the press felts the paper is carried to the "dryer
felts," which in turn carry the paper to the "dryers," which revolve
and by means of the felt carry the paper along to the next dryer, and
so on. The dryers are hollow iron or steel cylinders, heated by means
of the exhaust steam from the engines which run the machine. More or
less steam is allowed to run into the dryers, according to the quality
of paper being made.
_Fifth._ As soon as the paper has been carried over all the dryers,
during which time it becomes, perfectly dry, it is run through a set
of so-called steel "chilled rolls," at the end of the machine, which
are under pressure and which give the paper a fairly smooth surface
for ordinary type printing. If a rough surface is desired, the paper
is simply wound on reels from the dryers.
Super-calendered papers are those which have a high finish and smooth
surface, and are used for cuts, lithographic work, magazine papers,
and ordinary illustrations. To calender paper, it is run through a
series of alternate "chilled" and "paper" rolls. The chilled rolls are
made of steel and have a very smooth and even surface. The "paper"
roll is made of circular discs of thin, but strong manila paper,
clamped together on an iron shaft, and then put under hydraulic
pressure, this pressure being increased constantly until it reaches
one hundred tons of pressure to the inch. The rolls are sometimes kept
under this pressure for five or six weeks, and then are turned on a
lathe into a true and smooth cylinder, and finally burnished by being
revolved against each other.
A "cotton" roll, used at times in place of the "paper" roll, is made
in the same manner, except it is made of pieces of cotton cloth
instead of thin manila paper. There is a heavy pressure on these
rolls, and the paper goes through at a high rate of speed. When an
especially smooth surface is wanted, steam is run on the paper as it
unwinds, dampening it and giving the web a surface like that on ironed
linen.
"Coated" paper is treated differently, being covered with a fine
coating, which, after super-calendering, gives the paper a glazed and
smooth surface for fine half-tone illustrations. Clay, mixed with
casein, the product of skimmed milk, or glue, is the chief material
used for coating. It is put on the paper by means of large brushes.
Then it is dried by fans and passed through a long passageway heated
by steam to a high temperature. After being reeled, it is allowed to
stand for a while to harden; then is run several times through the
calenders to get the smooth surface. If a high, glazed finish is
necessary, steam is put on while running through the calenders. This
gives a very bright surface for fine lithographic work. For the best
coated papers, instead of clay, sulphate of lime and sometimes
sulphate of barium is used, with glue or casein. Formaldehyde, a
chemical compound, is used to prevent decomposition in the coating
materials; and soda or borax is used to "cut" or dissolve the casein
or glue.
If the paper is to be printed "from the web," that is, from the roll,
it first has to be trimmed to the correct width, then wound tightly
under a high pressure to a certain thickness, then the rolls are
packed up in wrapping paper ready to be shipped. Some rolls contain as
much as five miles of paper. When the paper is to be put up in
sheets, it has to be cut to exactly the correct width and length on
the cutting machine. It is all very carefully sorted--the imperfect
sheets being thrown out--counted and packed in wooden cases, or done
up with strong wrapping paper in bundles, ready to be sent to the
printer.
PRESSWORK
By Walter J. Berwick.
Books are printed in "forms," or sheets, of four, eight, twelve,
twenty-four, or thirty-two pages at a time, the number being
determined to a great extent by the size of the type page and by the
class of the work.
An ordinary twelvemo book, without illustrations in the text, is
usually printed in forms of thirty-two pages, on what is known as a
single-cylinder flat-bed press, which prints only one side of the
paper at an impression. For large editions, the size of the sheet of
paper is sometimes doubled and sixty-four pages printed at a time. The
class of work in question may also be printed on perfecting presses
which print both sides of the paper at one time, and in this way as
many as one hundred and twenty-eight pages are frequently printed on
one sheet, there being sixty-four pages on each side. Large editions
of books having small pages, such as small Bibles, are often printed
two hundred and fifty-six pages (one hundred and twenty-eight on each
side) at one time.
High grade, illustrated books are always printed on one side of the
sheet at a time, the reverse side being printed after the first
impression has dried properly. Thus a smooch, or "offset," the result
of handling the paper before the ink has become dry, is prevented.
For convenience, I shall describe the process of printing a book from
electrotype plates on a press which prints thirty-two pages at a time
and on only one side of the paper.
Before ordering his paper, the publisher must first determine the size
of the paper page of his proposed book, and from this arrive at the
necessary size of the sheets of paper. He must also determine the
thickness of the paper needed to give the finished book its proper
bulk.
If the book is to be trimmed on top, bottom, and front, about
one-eighth of an inch must be allowed on top and front for the binder
to trim off, and about one-fourth of an inch on the bottom. The
dimensions from back to front, including the amount left for the
"trim," should be multiplied by eight; and the page dimension the
other way, including the trim, by four. This would give the size of
paper needed. As an illustration, if the trimmed size of a book is
7-7/8 x 5-3/8 inches, the paper should be 32 x 44 inches. If the book
is printed 16 pages at a time, the paper should be 22 x 44; and if 64
pages at a time, 44 x 64.
The quality of the paper and the size of the sheet being decided upon,
and the number of pages known, any large paper house can tell the
weight necessary to give the required thickness to the book.
On receipt of the printing order, with directions as to whether the
book is to be trimmed or not, the printer first makes up what is
called a "form" of so-called "patent" blocks on which the stereotype
or electrotype plates are placed during the printing of the book.
These blocks are made of wood or iron planed to an even thickness of
about three-fourths of an inch, so that when an electrotype plate is
placed upon one, it will take only a few thicknesses of thin paper
between it and the electrotyped page to make the whole "type-high,"
that is, as high as an ordinary piece of type.
Two adjacent edges of these blocks are bound with strips of brass,
which project above the block and are turned over slightly, so as to
receive the two bevelled edges of the electrotype plate. The other two
edges are provided with movable clamps, which are screwed tight
against the flat edges of the electrotype plate by means of ratchets,
thus holding the plate firmly in its place.
In practice, the longer of the two brass-bound edges is called the
"back" of the block and the shorter one the "head," the other long
edge being known as the "front" and the other short edge, the "foot."
These terms, as a matter of fact, originated from the use of the same
words in describing the printed page of a book, the "back"
corresponding with the side of the page next to the binding of the
book, the "head" being the top of the book, and so on.
One-half of a set of blocks--thirty-two being a set in this case--are
made with the backs on the left and one-half with the backs on the
right edge of the block. The common way is to place thirty-two of
these blocks, in four rows of eight blocks each, in a "chase," or iron
frame, with a cross-bar in the centre. Thus sixteen blocks are on each
side of the cross-bar, and all have their backs toward it. The form
then appears like this:--
[Illustration: Blocks, cross-bar.]
Strips of wood, called "furniture," are then used to fill up the
spaces between the blocks, care being taken to see that all the backs,
fronts, and heads are in uniform positions. As some people prefer the
printed pages of a book to be near the centre of the paper pages,
while others like the head and back margins to be much narrower than
the margins at the front and foot, the distances between the blocks
must be arranged according to the taste of the publisher or the
author.
After the blocks have been spaced as desired, and the spaces filled
with furniture, the form is "locked up," or tightened securely, with
wedge-shaped pieces of iron called "quoins," and it is then placed in
position on the bed of the press, securely fastened by screw clamps,
and "making ready" for printing is begun.
Notwithstanding the care that has been taken to have all the "patent"
blocks and the electrotype plates of even and uniform thickness, there
is almost never a case where a form can be put on the press and
printed off properly without considerable work being required to make
the surface of the plates absolutely flat so that the entire printed
part of the page will receive the same amount of ink and will press
evenly on the paper.
The first step in making a press "ready" is to place a sheet of heavy
cardboard around the cylinder, and over it draw a smooth piece of
muslin or cotton cloth. This is called the "packing." In many of the
best offices this sheet of heavy cardboard is not used, but in its
place is a patent make-ready called "Tympalyn."
Over this a thick sheet of manila paper is shrunk, it being pasted
under clamps on the front of the cylinder, and carried around and
fastened to hooks on a rod on the back. The rod is then turned until
the sheet is perfectly tight and smooth.
While the pressman is laying out his plates the feeder should be
cutting thin sheets of paper the size of one of the plates. Some of
these papers are cut about one inch shorter than the plates for
"bevels," and these are pasted on the middle of the full-size pieces.
These bevels and the larger "blank" sheets are to go between the
plates and the blocks to overcome any variation there may be in the
thickness and to make the surface of the form as nearly level as
possible. The "bevels" raise the centres very slightly above the edges
of the plate, thus reducing the pressure of the cylinder at the points
of contact and departure, and saving the plates from wear.
The cylinder being properly packed, and the form of blocks fastened on
the press so that the impression of the form will come in the middle
of the paper sheets, it is necessary to know whether the binder is to
fold the sheets by hand or by machine, and if the latter, what kind of
machine, as different ones require different "imposition" or
arrangement of pages. This being decided, the plates are fastened on
the blocks so arranged that when the sheet is cut and folded the pages
of the book will run consecutively. Before levelling up the form with
the bevels and blank sheets, the plates of all open or short pages, if
any, are replaced with solid pages, as these sheets and underlay are
to remain through the printing of all the forms of the book. The
rollers are now put in the press and adjusted to just touch the inking
table, the ink put on the rollers and distributed, and one impression
printed on one of several sheets of thin paper which are run through
the press together.[3] This printed sheet is then turned face down by
the pressman and any unevenness of the impression noted. One of the
printed pages is taken as a standard and by removing as many pieces of
the thin sheets as necessary from under the plates where the
impression is too heavy, and by adding where it is not heavy enough,
the surface of the form is finally "evened," or made as nearly equal
as possible.
[Footnote 3: If one sheet of paper were run through
the press before "making ready," it would not
receive any impression, there being a space equal
to the thickness of ten sheets of paper between the
cylinder and the surface of the type. A bunch of
six or eight sheets is therefore run through to get
an impression for "make-ready" purposes.]
After this another impression is taken, and of this sheet an
"underlay" is made to further "even up" the form. The low places in
the individual plates are carefully marked with crayon or a soft
pencil on the impression, and the spots so marked are covered with a
piece of thin paper. The printed pages are then cut out a little
larger than the type page, and placed under the plates from which
they were printed. The plates of the solid pages, which had been
substituted for the open pages, are now removed, and the open pages
are put back in their places on the form.
Up to this point, all the "making ready" which has been done, is of
permanent use in printing all of the forms of the book in question.
The work that follows has to be done on each form as it is put on the
press.
More thin sheets of paper are now run through the press, the number
run through together being one less than were printed for the
underlay. These printed sheets are used for "overlays," which are very
much like an underlay except that much more care is taken in marking
any uneven places. A thinner paper is used to bring up the low places
in the plates. An impression of the form is then made on the manila
paper sheet which had, as before mentioned, been drawn around the
cylinder, and on this printed manila sheet this overlay is pasted, the
impression on the manila paper being a guide for the placing of the
overlay.
Another overlay is now made in the same way as the first; only it will
now be found, if the work has been properly done, that there will be
only a few spots to be covered with tissue. After this overlay has
been made and the necessary pieces pasted over the first one, a thin
sheet of manila is smoothly and tightly drawn around the cylinder,
covering completely the thick manila sheet with the pasted overlays on
it. The form is then ready to print.
While the feeder, as the man who feeds the paper into the press is
called, has been "filling in" the overlay, the pressman should have
been getting "register,"--that is, moving the plates so that the
headlines and the sides of the plates align properly, and that when
both sides of the paper have been printed, the pages will exactly back
each other. The ink fountain should also have been so regulated by
means of thumb-screws that the right amount of ink will run on the
rollers and be distributed evenly over the form. Where too much ink
shows on the printed sheet, the thumb-screws on the fountain are
tightened a little, to decrease the flow, and where not enough ink
shows the thumb-screws are loosened to increase its flow. This process
is repeated until the "color" is all right. The grippers, which seize
and carry the sheets of paper through the press, the reels, cylinder
bands, and many other things have also to be adjusted. These cannot
well be described, but have to be learned by actual experience.
The "making ready" and watching the sheets as they come from the press
to see that the "color" does not vary, is the skilful part of the
process. The feeding can be done by a bright boy after a few weeks'
experience, but is now done automatically by machines to a great
extent.
While the press was being made ready, another set of men in charge of
the paper have taken it out of the cases or bundles, counted out the
number of sheets required for each form, piled it on hand trucks,
keeping that required for each form separate, and have delivered it to
the press. If a machine feeder is used, the paper is piled on the
elevator of the feeder, from which it is automatically taken, one
sheet at a time, and delivered on endless tapes to gauges on the feed
board of the press, thus bringing every sheet in the same position
each time. The number of sheets required for the order are printed
from one form on one side and then from another form on the other
side.
From the preceding it can be seen that to get a press ready may be a
matter of hours, while, in the case of ordinary book work, a press
generally prints from 1200 to 2000 impressions and more per hour.
The principal difference between making ready a form on a flat-bed
perfecting press with two cylinders and on a single-cylinder press is
in extra work necessary to obtain correct registering of the plates
and in preventing an offset of the fresh ink on the second cylinder.
Otherwise, a perfecting press is very much like two cylinder presses
joined together. It has two sets of rollers, two ink fountains, two
cylinders, two forms, etc., but only one feed board and one delivery.
The sheet is fed to one cylinder and printed, taken from this
cylinder by the second and printed on the second side, and delivered
on the "fly board" ready to go to the shipping department.
The process of making ready forms containing illustrations is
practically the same as for plain ones, except that a new underlay is
made for each form, and much more care and skill must be used on the
cuts themselves. It frequently happens that one or even two days are
spent making ready a form of half-tone cuts, before the actual
printing, which takes perhaps half a day to do, can be begun.
In most offices, a special "cut overlay" is made for forms with cuts,
or illustrations. The cut is placed on a hand press before the form is
made up, and proofs on four different thicknesses of paper are made.
The heaviest paper is used as a bottom sheet, and the others are
pasted on it. Out of the next to the thickest paper of all, the solid
blacks are cut and pasted accurately on the same places on the bottom
sheet. From the second or next thinner sheet, the medium shades
including the solid blacks are cut and pasted on the bottom sheet,
thus building up the blacks and strong shadows. From the thinnest
sheet of all, the high lights and very light shades are cut, and the
rest of the sheet is pasted on the bottom one. In this way the solid
blacks and dark shadows on the cut have three thicknesses on the
overlay; the next shades two, and the light shades one, where the high
lights are cut out altogether. This is the common form of "cut
overlay" used in most offices; but there are many other kinds, some
being made on metal by chemical action. All kinds are fastened
carefully over the impression of the cut made on the heavy manila
sheet covering the cylinder, and the cut must not be moved on the form
after the overlay has been fastened on the cylinder, or the effect of
all the work will be entirely lost.
One of the great troubles which the printer has to contend with, is
electricity in the paper. The pressman is unaware of its presence
until he lifts a printed sheet from the pile and receives a slight
shock, and finds the sheets stick together. In the case of a cut form,
the ink is almost sure to be offset, and in printing the second side
of the paper the feeder will have to stop frequently to separate the
sheets. Much money has been spent and many devices originated to
overcome this trouble. Ink manufacturers make a liquid preparation to
be applied to the packing. A row of lighted gas-jets placed near the
point where the sheet goes on to the "flyboard," a heated steam-pipe,
and many other things have been used, but a new device by which
electricity is generated and carried into the press, and there
neutralizes the electricity in the paper, is the best of them all.
The printed sheets are counted automatically by the press, and as fast
as enough accumulate, they are piled on hand trucks and removed to the
shipping room. Here they are "jogged up" so that the edges are even
and are counted again by hand. If they are to be shipped away, they
are tied up in bundles or nailed in cases and marked for shipment. If
the bindery is connected with the pressroom, they are simply jogged,
counted, and piled on trucks and delivered in this way.
THE PRINTING PRESS
By Otto L. Raabe.
Throughout the stages of development of the book-printing press the
chief object has been to lessen the cost of printing. Whether the
direct purpose of an improvement has been to increase the working
speed of the press, to lessen the necessary operating power, to
simplify the mechanism, to strengthen the parts, to lighten the
pressman's labor, or to better the quality of printing, the ultimate
aim has always been the same. It has been the constant incentive to
invention and the standard for judging the adaptability of a press.
The first printing press was the "wooden screw" press, which came into
use about the middle of the fifteenth century, and was built upon the
same mechanical principle as the linen presses in the homes of the
well-to-do. This was the press used by Gutenberg.
It consisted of two upright timbers held together at the top and the
bottom by crosspieces of wood and with two intermediate cross-timbers.
One of these intermediate cross-timbers supported a wooden or stone
"bed" on which the form of type was placed, and through the other
passed a large wooden screw, the lower point of which was attached to
the centre of a flat, wooden plate, called the "platen." The lower
side of the platen was covered with a soft "packing" or "blanket" of
cloth. After the type had been inked, a sheet of paper was laid on it.
This paper had previously been dampened so that it would take a better
impression of the type. The screw was then turned down until the
platen pressed the paper against the inked type, and produced a
printed sheet.
The form of type was incased in a frame called a "coffin." These
coffins and the type within them were very heavy, but they had to be
lifted in and out of the press by hand. After each impression the
platen was screwed upward so that the sheet of paper which had been
printed could be removed and hung up to dry.
This simple form of press continued in use without material change
until the early part of the seventeenth century. The first
improvements on it came about 1620, and consisted of a device for
rolling in and out the wooden or stone bed on which the type rested
instead of lifting it by hand, of a new form of iron hand-lever for
turning the screw, and of an iron screw in place of the wooden one.
These were the inventions of William Janson Blaeuw, a printer of
Amsterdam. Blaeuw's press was introduced into England and used there
as well as on the continent. It was substantially the same press as
that on which Benjamin Franklin worked when in London in 1735.
After this first type of printing press had been in use for three and
a half centuries, a much-improved form was invented by the Earl of
Stanhope in 1798. The frame of his press was made of iron, cast in one
piece; the bed, the impression plate, or "platen," and the other large
parts were also of cast iron, while the working parts were of iron,
steel, or brass. The iron impression screw was retained, but connected
to it was a combination of levers whereby its power was greatly
increased. This enabled the printing of larger forms and the use of a
thinner and harder "packing," or "tympan," between the platen and the
sheet of paper to be printed, resulting in a sharper and clearer
impression. Much less exertion was required to work the lever, and at
first, on this account, a printer, who was accustomed to use all his
physical force on the old screw press, found it difficult to work on
the new one.
This improved style of press was received with so much favor by
printers that several persons took up its manufacture, and competition
soon reduced its cost and brought it into general use for printing
newspapers as well as books. The process of printing remained about
the same as in the earlier presses. Two men were required to work it.
One spread the ink on a wooden block, rolling over it with two
leather-covered balls, about six inches in diameter, stuffed with
wool or horsehair, and fastened to round wooden handles. Holding one
of these inking balls in each hand, he then rolled one upon the other
to distribute the ink evenly over both of them, and applied the ink to
the face of the type by rocking the balls over it until the entire
form was inked. While this was being done, the other man was placing
the sheet of paper on the "tympan." This was a light frame, in two
parts, really forming two frames, one inside the other, and both
covered with parchment. There was a woollen or felt blanket between
them, and the two frames were held together by hooks. The outer frame
was hinged at its lower end to the outer end of the bed of the press,
and when ready to receive the paper, it stood in a nearly upright
position at about right angles to the bed. On the frame were two or
four pins, upon which the sheet of paper was impaled.
Attached to the upper end of the inner frame by hinges was a thin and
narrow frame, called the "frisket," of the same length and width as
the inner tympan frame. This frisket was covered with strong paper in
which were openings, cut a little larger than the size of the pages of
the type-form. When the sheets of paper had been placed upon the
tympan frame, the frisket was folded down upon it, and the two were
then turned down over the form of type. The bed was then "run in"
under the platen by means of a crank at the side of the press, and
the platen was screwed down to make the impression. After the
impression had been taken, the platen was screwed up, the bed "run
out," the tympan frame and frisket lifted, and the printed sheet taken
off.
The introduction of this Stanhope press gave a great impetus to the
development of the printing press in other countries as well as in
England, and many varieties were devised during the thirty years
following. Although as early as 1811 Koenig had made a cylinder press
which had proved fairly successful, the better grades of printing
could be obtained only by the flat pressure of the hand-presses. In
some of these hand presses, the platen, or upper impression plate, was
moved into position over the bed and remained stationary while the bed
with the type-form upon it was forced upward to make the impression.
In others, the platen was hinged to the bed, but in all of them the
mechanism was complicated.
The "Columbian" press, devised by George Clymer, of Philadelphia, in
1816, gained considerable distinction both in this country and in
England, where it was introduced in 1818. It differed from the
Stanhope in that the screw was dispensed with, the platen being
depressed by a combination of levers and lifted by the aid of a
weighted balance-lever.
The reduction of the hand-lever movement to its simplest and most
powerful form is now seen in the Washington hand press, devised by
Samuel Rust, of New York, in 1827. His patent was later purchased by
R. Hoe & Co., who made nearly seven thousand of these presses in
different sizes and still make many of a greatly strengthened pattern
for taking fine proofs from photo-engraved plates. Some of these
presses made before 1850 are still in use, and occasionally one hears
of a Washington hand press being used for printing upon handmade paper
an edition of a small and limited number of copies of a book. Of all
the hand presses, this is the only one that has survived to the
present day.
With the introduction of other means for applying power than the
hand-lever, a distinction came to be drawn between printing _presses_
and printing _machines_. The term "machine" might perhaps be more
appropriately used for the huge printing presses of the present day,
yet, as the first essential is the impression power, all other
features being subordinate, the term "press" is still the proper one
to apply, even to the greatest combination of printing units yet
devised.
The "bed and platen" system of printing as first used in hand presses
occupies such an important place in the history of the book-printing
press that a further description of its career is necessary.
In December, 1806, Friedrich Koenig, a Saxon, who later gave to the
world the first practical cylinder press, went from Germany to England
to seek assistance in carrying out his plans for the construction of
a greatly improved printing press, having failed in his efforts in his
own country and in Russia. He succeeded in enlisting the support of
Thomas Bensley, a London printer, and constructed a press in which all
the operations but laying on and taking off of the sheet were
performed mechanically.
An accurate description of this press is not extant, but it is known
to have consisted of a large wooden frame, a platen worked by a
vertical screw and gears, a type-bed drawn forward and backward by
means of straps fastened to a large roller underneath the bed, a
tympan frame and frisket arranged to open and close automatically with
the movement of the bed, and an inking apparatus, consisting of an
ink-box with a narrow slit in the bottom through which the ink was
forced by a piston upon a roller below, from which it was transmitted
by two intermediate rollers to another and lower roller which inked
the form as it passed underneath. The two intermediate rollers had an
alternating, lateral motion which spread or distributed the ink
sideways before it reached the lowest roller.
This press was the first to have ink-distributing rollers and the
first to be run by steam power. In April, 1811, the "Annual Register"
for 1810 was printed on it by Mr. Bensley at the rate of eight hundred
impressions an hour. Nothing further is recorded about this press, and
it was probably abandoned as being too complicated.
In the following year, Koenig's first cylinder press was completed, to
be followed two years later by an improved cylinder press made for the
_London Times_, which will be referred to farther on.
In his experiments, the Earl of Stanhope had tried, without success,
to find a substitute for inking-balls by making rollers covered with
different kinds of skins. He also tried other materials, such as
cloth, silk, etc., but the unavoidable seam and the impossibility of
keeping these materials soft and pliable defeated his purpose. About
1813 inking-rollers made of a composition of glue and molasses came
into general use, and this important invention was of great assistance
in the further improvement of the printing press.
Other cylinder presses with mechanical inking appliances were devised
and patented, the most notable of which were those of Rutt, Bacon,
Cowper, Applegath, and Napier, but the mechanical imperfections of
these presses unfitted them for the better grades of book printing.
Further efforts were, therefore, directed to increasing the output of
the bed and platen presses by the application of improved inking
devices, sheet-feeding, and impression mechanisms. About 1825 there
was constructed by D. Napier, a machinist in London, a press
containing such appliances which produced six to seven hundred
impressions an hour. Other presses constructed upon the same
principle, but with two type-beds, two sets of friskets, two inking
mechanisms--and only one platen, in the centre of the press--were made
by Hopkinson & Cope and by Napier, and were known as "double platen
machines," though this is really a misnomer as there was only one
platen.
Napier's invention achieved the greatest popularity and came into
general use. At each end of his press there was an inking device, a
type-bed, and a frisket, each set of which operated alternately with
the other, but either could be made inoperative if the "feeder," or
"layer-on," failed to place the sheet in time. Four boys, besides the
printer, were required--two to lay on, and two to take off the sheets.
When the type-bed and the frisket carrying the sheet of paper were in
position under the platen, the latter was drawn downward to make the
impression by means of a "toggle" joint which acted upon two strong
rods, one on each side, and was then raised again by a counterbalance
weight. Owing to the awkward method of handling the paper, the working
speed of the press was necessarily slow, and the size of the sheets
limited to double royal, or 25 x 40 inches.
The best presses of this type were those devised and patented by Isaac
Adams, of Boston, in 1830 and 1836, and by Otis Tufts, also of Boston,
in 1834. R. Hoe & Co., of New York, acquired Adams' business in 1858
and continued the manufacture of his presses. Over one thousand in
many different sizes were made by this firm, the largest printing a
sheet 33 x 46 inches at a working speed of one thousand impressions an
hour. The last Adams press was made in 1882, but quite a number are
still in use in prominent printing-offices in New York, Boston, and a
few other cities, where the results on fine book work are still
considered better than from the faster cylinder presses. The
mechanical principle employed in the Adams press for exerting a flat,
parallel pressure has now been generally adopted for heavy stamping
and embossing presses.
To go back to the early part of the nineteenth century, when Koenig
found his bed and platen press impracticable, he immediately set to
work, assisted by one of his countrymen, Andreas Bauer, a mechanic who
had helped him formerly, and in the latter part of 1812, the first
flat-bed cylinder press was erected by them in Bensley's office. The
cylinder of this press had three impression surfaces with spaces
between them, and each covered with a soft blanket. With each forward
movement of the type-bed the cylinder made one-third of a revolution
and then came to a standstill, while the bed returned to its
starting-point. The spaces between the impression surfaces allowed the
type-form to pass under the cylinder without touching the blankets. At
the end of the cylinder and at equal distances along its circumference
were hinged three frisket frames, each fitted with tapes having reel
springs at one end. The frisket frame of the uppermost impression
surface rested in a vertically inclined position against the high
framework of the inking mechanism. The sheet of paper was placed upon
the blanket, and the cylinder then turned forward, drawing the frisket
frame down with it, while the tapes, kept taut by the reel springs,
adjusted themselves to the curvature of the cylinder and held the
sheet upon it. After one-third of a revolution, the cylinder came to a
stop to let the type-bed return. On the next forward movement of the
bed and the next one-third of a revolution of the cylinder, the
impression was made, and on the next repetition of these movements,
the sheet was taken off by hand, and the cylinder returned to its
original position to have another sheet placed on the first frisket.
At every complete revolution of the cylinder and three complete
reciprocating movements of the bed, three sheets were printed.
The inking mechanism was similar to that employed on the bed and
platen press, but the mechanism for forcing the ink through the slit
in the bottom of the fountain was improved. The inking-rollers were
covered with leather as before. The type-bed was moved by a very
ingenious mechanism which is in use even at the present time, and is
described farther on, when the two-revolution press is mentioned. The
different parts were not connected with each other, the cylinder, the
type-bed, the inking-rollers, and the fountain being operated
independently by separate driving mechanisms. This press printed eight
hundred sheets an hour, on one side. A part of Clarkson's "Life of
William Penn" was printed on this press, and was the first book ever
printed on a cylinder press.
Printers and publishers were sceptical as to the practical value of
this novel invention, but Mr. John Walter, the proprietor of the
_London Times_, with better foresight than the others, and needing
increased facilities for printing his paper, contracted for two
presses, each to have two impression cylinders. These were constructed
for him with great secrecy in a building adjoining the pressroom of
the _Times_, and on November 28, 1814, the entire edition of that
paper was printed on them,--the first cylinder presses driven by steam
power.
The mechanical principles were the same as in the first cylinder
press. There were two impression cylinders, but only one type-bed, and
the latter had, therefore, to travel a greater distance than in the
single-cylinder press. This made it impossible to obtain quite double
the output of the single-cylinder press, but each of these new presses
produced eleven hundred impressions an hour, a very respectable
performance for that early stage. The threefold motion of the
cylinders was retained, but the frisket frames were displaced, and
tapes running over rollers and underneath the cylinders held the
sheets against the impression surfaces. An improvement was also made
in the inking mechanism by the addition of an intermediate roller
between the fountain and the upper distributing cylinder roller.
The next step in advance was the construction of the first of the
so-called perfecting presses, which was patented, December 24, 1814,
and erected in Mr. Bensley's office in 1815 or 1816. This press had
two type-beds and two impression cylinders, one of each near either
end of the press. The cylinders instead of having a threefold motion
revolved continuously. The circumference of each corresponded
approximately to the distance traversed by one of the beds. The part
of the cylinder which made the impression was a little larger in
diameter than the remainder, the low portion giving the necessary room
for the type-bed to return without touching it. The board from which
the sheets were "fed" was near the centre of the press, and at the top
adjoining the feed board was an endless belt made of cloth as wide as
the board and running with an intermittent motion over two rollers.
The sheet of paper was laid upon this belt, which then moved forward,
carrying the sheet between the tapes and leading it to the top of,
down and around, the first cylinder where it received the first
impression. Thence the sheet was conveyed by the tapes to the top of
and around the second impression cylinder and was printed on the
reverse side, that is "perfected," and it was then taken from the
lower side of the second cylinder by hand and laid upon a board in the
centre of the press, between the two impression cylinders and
underneath the feed board. This press printed both sides of a sheet
21 x 34-1/2 inches at a speed of nine hundred to one thousand an hour.
Shortly afterward a single-cylinder press was constructed upon the
same principle, the forerunner of what is now known as the single
large or drum cylinder press.
Within the next few years, Applegath and Cowper greatly simplified the
presses in the _Times_ and in Bensley's office by removing many of the
gear wheels. They also invented the first inking-table, a flat, iron
plate attached to the type-bed which enabled the rollers to distribute
the ink more evenly than before. They placed rollers at an angle
across the ink-table and introduced the revolving roller and the
scraping blade in the ink-fountain.
More important, however, were Napier's inventions about 1824, of
"grippers" which seized the sheet of paper at its front edge and drew
it from the feed board, while the cylinder was in motion, and of a
method of alternately depressing and raising the impression cylinders
on the forward and backward stroke of the type-bed, making it
unnecessary to have a part of the cylinders of smaller diameter than
the rest to allow the type to pass under it as the bed returned. This
made it possible to use cylinders of a smaller diameter. These
improvements were first embodied in a perfecting press made for
Hansard, a London printer.
Although a number of presses were already being operated by steam
power, Hansard, in his description of the Napier bed and platen press
(the "Nay-Peer," he called it) finds a peculiar advantage in that "it
supersedes the necessity of steam power, as the motion of this machine
is gained by two men turning a fly-wheel which acts as the impelling
power."
I have described the development of the printing press up to this
state with considerable detail, because it discloses the main
principles of the book press of the present day. During the first
quarter of the last century, the manufacture of cylinder presses was
confined to England, not only because London was then the leading
centre of civilization, but because nowhere else could be found the
mechanical facilities for constructing the large metal frames and
parts. Koenig left London for his native land in 1817, dejected by the
treatment he had received at the hands of Bensley, both in financial
matters and in the attempts to disparage his achievements. He was
followed two years later by his friend Bauer, and together they
founded the firm of Koenig & Bauer at Oberzell, where it still thrives
as one of the largest factories in Germany.
It was not long, however, before the United States took the lead in
the number of presses manufactured as well as in their improvement,
and the present high state of efficiency of American presses makes
them models which are copied in all other countries. These
improvements and the perfections of details often presented problems
which were more difficult to solve than those of the earlier
inventors, and thousands of patents have been granted to Americans for
new and ingenious devices.
The firm of R. Hoe & Co., which as early as 1822 was already engaged
in the manufacture of hand-presses in New York, commenced about 1832
to manufacture flat-bed cylinder presses, beginning with the single
large or drum cylinder press which was followed soon afterward by the
single small cylinder and the double small cylinder press, the
flat-bed perfecting press, the stop-cylinder press, the two-revolution
press, and the rotary book press. They also made and are still making
large newspaper and color presses which are used all over the
civilized world, but of these we will not treat here.
As stated at the beginning of this article the chief object in press
making has always been to lessen the cost of printing, but after
increased speed had been attained, there came a demand for a press
that would produce the finest quality of printing without sacrificing
the quantity produced.
To meet this no press has ever surpassed the stop cylinder. It has
been made in several different sizes, the largest having a type-bed
45 x 65 inches. Resting upon and attached to a heavy iron foundation
are two iron side frames which are securely braced together by an
upper iron frame, called the "rib." This upper frame contains four
tracks faced with hard steel, on which run a series of friction
rollers, supporting the iron type-bed. Attached to the front of the
type-bed is an iron plate, called the ink-table, its surface level
with the surface of the type-form as it lies upon the bed.
At the front of the press is the ink-fountain and a number of steel
and composition rollers, called the "distributing rollers." The ink is
delivered a little at a time from the fountain to the revolving
distributing rollers, and from them to the ink-table which moves under
the rollers with the motion of the type-bed. By this means the ink is
distributed upon the entire surface of the ink-table in a thin, even
film. From the ink-table the ink is taken by a set of six rollers,
called the "form rollers." Resting on the form rollers and moving in
contact with them are additional rollers which help to distribute the
ink still finer before it reaches the type.
The impression cylinder is located at a distance from the front of the
press of about two-thirds of the entire length of the press. The
circumference of the cylinder is equal to the distance that the
type-bed travels in one direction. When the type-bed moves from the
front to the rear, the cylinder rotates in unison with it, and thus
the cylinder makes one revolution. While the bed returns the cylinder
does not move.
Near the rear of the press is a large wooden board extending across
the press and lying in a slightly inclined position with its lower
edge almost directly above the centre of the impression cylinder. This
is the "feed board" upon which the sheets of paper lie before they are
printed. The impression cylinder has a set of grippers, and when the
cylinder is at rest, these grippers are close to the edge of the feed
board and stand open to receive the edge of the sheet of paper.
Extending a little over the front of the feed board are two gauges
against which the front edge of the sheet of paper is placed, while
one side edge of the sheet is placed against a gauge at the side of
the feed board. Just an instant before the cylinder commences to
rotate, the grippers seize the front edge of the sheet, and the gauges
lift out of the way. The cylinder then carries the sheet around, meets
the moving inked form, and makes the impression. Before the cylinder
completes its revolution, the grippers open and release the sheet, and
at the same instant another set of grippers on an adjoining cylinder,
called the "delivery cylinder," seize the sheet. From this delivery
cylinder the sheet runs down over a set of strings, and is lifted off
the strings by a sort of fan, or "sheet flier," and deposited on a
table at the rear of the press. This method of delivering the sheets
is known as the cylinder or rear delivery. This press may also be
fitted for "front delivery." By this method the sheet of paper after
being printed is carried around on the impression cylinder until the
front edge comes again to the feeding point. Just as the impression
cylinder comes to a stop, a set of grippers seize the front edge of
the printed sheet, draw it over and away from the impression cylinder,
and deposit it, with the printed side up, upon a table near the front
of the press and above the ink-fountain and distributing rollers.
The average speed of one of these presses is from one thousand to
fifteen hundred impressions an hour, depending upon the desired
quality of the work.
Notwithstanding the excellent qualities of the stop-cylinder press,
commercial necessities often demand a sacrifice of quality to speed,
and this has brought the two-revolution press into very general use.
As the name implies, the cylinder makes two revolutions, one to print
the sheet, and the other, an idle one, to allow the bed to return.
While the bed is returning, the impression cylinder is lifted to clear
the type-form. As the cylinder rotates continually at a uniform speed,
the type-bed must also travel at a constant speed. The reversal of the
movements of the bed must, therefore, take place in a short space of
time.
The study of inventors has been concentrated upon this subject more
than upon any other connected with flat-bed presses, and hundreds of
patents for "bed motions" have been taken out. Considering the fact
that in the larger presses the weight of the bed and form is about one
and a half tons and that this weight moving at a speed of about six
feet in a second must be brought to a full stop and put into motion
again in the opposite direction at full speed in about one-quarter of
a second, it is obvious that the problem was not an easy one,
especially when the reversal of the bed must be accomplished without a
jar or vibration. The mechanism employed has always been a driving
gear and one or two toothed racks. In Koenig's original movement, the
driving gear on the end of a rising and falling shaft ran on top of a
rack attached to the bottom of the bed in order to drive the bed in
one direction, and then descending around the end of the rack ran in
the bottom to the same rack to drive the bed in the other direction
and ascending at the other end to repeat the movement. This, as
already stated, has proven a very efficient mechanism and is employed,
with improvements, by some of the press manufacturers of the present
time.
In a pamphlet entitled "A Short History of the Printing Press" (New
York, 1902), by Robert Hoe, the writer describes a method of reversing
the bed. Although somewhat technical, it seems desirable to quote him
as follows: "As early as 1847, Hoe & Co. patented an entirely new
bed-driving mechanism. To a hanger fixed on the lower side of the bed
were attached two racks facing each other, but not in the same
vertical plane, and separated by a distance equal to the diameter of
the driving wheel, which was on a horizontal shaft and movable
sideways so as to engage in either one or other of the racks. By this
means, a uniform movement was obtained in each direction. The reversal
of the bed was accomplished by a roller at either end of the bed
entering a recess in a disc on the driving shaft, which in a
half-revolution brought the bed to a stop and started it in the
opposite direction. This involved a new principle; a crank action
operating directly upon the bed from a shaft having a fixed centre,
and within recent years modifications of this patent have been
successfully employed to drive the type-bed at a high velocity and
reverse it without a shock or vibration."
This invention appears to have been the forerunner of the more recent
improvements in bed motions. A notable one is that employed in the
Miehle presses, which have gained much celebrity, run at a high rate
of speed, and are used in many printing-offices in this and other
countries. The reversal of the bed movement is accomplished by a
so-called "true crank" movement and with an absence of jar and
vibration never before obtained in any other than the stop-cylinder
presses.
At the present time, the latest development in printing presses is Hoe
& Co.'s new two-revolution press, in which, also, the reversal of the
bed is accomplished by the true crank movement, but with an
improvement which brings it to an easy stop and returns it without the
least vibration.
On all two-revolution presses there are employed, to assist in the
reversal of the bed, air-chambers or cylinders, without which the
reversing mechanisms could not withstand the enormous strain to which
they are subjected. These are iron cylinders, closed at one end,
approximately six inches in diameter and eighteen inches long, and
varying in size according to the size of the press. Some presses have
two and others four of these cylinders, one or two at each end. The
open ends of the cylinders are toward the bed, and attached to the bed
are two or four pistons which enter the air-chambers as the bed nears
the end of its stroke. The compression of the air in the cylinders
makes a cushion and checks the momentum of the moving bed. The pistons
can be adjusted to regulate the air compression to suit the velocity
of the bed and the weight of the form, which vary in different kinds
of work.
The delivery of the printed sheets is performed either by a delivery
cylinder or by a front delivery with the printed side of the paper
uppermost as already described for the stop-cylinder presses. Grippers
are not used in the front delivery carriage, as the sheet is
discharged from the cylinder by its continuous rotation.
The average running speed of a two-revolution press is about one-third
greater than that of a stop cylinder, or about eighteen hundred
impressions an hour, as against from one thousand to thirteen hundred
and fifty impressions from the stop cylinder, this being the
comparison in presses of the average size, printing sheets about
33 x 46 inches. The driving power required is in the proportion of
about five for the two-revolution press to three for the stop
cylinder, and the wear and tear is in about the same proportion.
Another press, which is still employed to a small extent for
book-work, is the flat-bed perfecting press. This press is virtually
two two-revolution presses combined into one, with the advantage that
they require only one man as "feeder," but with the disadvantage that
they produce only about two-thirds as much work as two separate
single-cylinder, two-revolution presses. Their greatest disadvantage
lies in the difficulty of preventing the fresh ink on the side of the
sheet first printed from "setting off" on the packing of the cylinder
which prints the reverse or second side. Mechanisms are employed to
move the "tympan sheet" or outside covering of the second cylinder
along at fixed intervals, but they are complicated and troublesome.
These presses are expensive and cumbersome, and can generally be used
only for inferior grades of work in large editions. Under the care of
a skilful and painstaking pressman, good work can be produced from
them, but fine book-work is always done on stop-cylinder and
two-revolution, single-cylinder presses, which have now been brought
to a high state of perfection.
Nearly a hundred years ago Hansard wrote, "The printing machine in its
present state appears susceptible of little improvement." He was, in
truth, right so far as the main principles of the flat-bed cylinder
press are concerned, but there have been immense improvements in many
of the details. With the introduction of automatic sheet-feeding
devices, and improvements in the driving, inking, and delivery
arrangements, mechanical ingenuity seems to have been exhausted. The
temptation is strong to apply Hansard's prediction to the flat-bed
cylinder press of the present day, but with the many surprises that
meet us in other fields this would border on temerity.
Already there have been great advances in adapting the entirely rotary
principle to the printing of high-grade work, although its use is
still restricted to the production of large editions.
As early as 1852 Hoe & Co. made a rotary press for D. Appleton & Co.,
especially for printing the famous Webster spelling-book. The types
were locked up on the cylinders in curved beds, called "turtles," and
the sheets were delivered by a sheet-flier. Probably thirty million
copies were printed on this press, which was dismantled nearly
twenty-six years ago.
In 1886 this same concern made a press which is still used for
printing some of the forms of the _Century Magazine_. This press had
two pairs of cylinders, and curved electrotype plates were used on it.
The paper was in a roll at one end, and at the other end there were
delivered, to each revolution of the cylinders, eight eight-page
signatures already folded to the size of the _Century_ page. This was
the first rotary press made for a good grade of book-work. Two similar
presses were afterward made for _Harper's Weekly_ and for the _Strand
Magazine_ of London.
What is known as the rotary art press was made in 1890 for printing
the fine half-tone illustrations in the _Century Magazine_.
This has one plate cylinder and one impression cylinder, and curved
electrotype plates are used. The sheets are "fed" by hand in the usual
manner, and are printed on one side at a time and delivered by a
sheet-flier. It produces as much work as four flat-bed cylinder
presses and of better quality. The plates are inked by sixteen
rollers. The performance of this press is another demonstration of the
superiority of the rotary over the flat-bed principle of printing.
Since then hundreds of rotary presses have been made for magazine and
book printing, most of them equipped with attachments for folding the
sheets as they are printed, and all having a high rate of speed. C.
B. Cottrell & Co. have made many rotary presses for magazine printing,
most of which deliver the sheets flat, without folding, and most of
them made to suit some predetermined size or sizes of sheets or pages.
In the evolution of the printing press there are three sharply defined
stages: first, the flat impression surface and the flat printing
surface, requiring the exertion of all of the impressing power upon
the entire surfaces; second, the cylindrical impression surface and
the flat printing surface, requiring the exertion of all of the
impressing power upon only a narrow line or a small portion of the
printing surface; third, a cylindrical impression surface and a
cylindrical printing surface, still further reducing the area upon
which all the impressing power is exerted.
Just as the second stage has, particularly for book-work, virtually
superseded the first, so the third is destined to supersede the
second. It is only an adaptation of the means to the ends. The
mechanical principles of the rotary press are, in fact, simpler than
those of the flat-bed cylinder press, and it may be said that so far
as the purely mechanical part of the press is concerned, they have
been fully developed, but much still remains to be done in other
directions. The variety in the sizes of the pages of different books,
the smallness of the editions, and the fact that the finer grades of
paper, especially coated paper, cannot be obtained in roll form, are
obstacles to be removed. As most book forms are electrotyped for
flat-bed presses, and as it requires but little additional expense to
curve the plates, this one item is not much of an obstacle to
overcome. It is, however, still difficult to curve the plates
perfectly, and the pressmen, even if they can produce excellent work
from flat-bed presses, require considerable training if they have had
no experience on rotary presses. All these difficulties are sure to be
overcome in time.
PRINTING INK
By James A. Ullman.
The process of making printing ink consists of grinding a pigment,
black, white, or colored, into a suitable varnish. The pigment is that
constituent which makes the impression visible, while the varnish is
the vehicle which carries the pigment during the operation of grinding
and during its distribution on the press to the type, from the type to
the paper, and ultimately binds it to the paper.
A complete factory for the production of printing ink consequently
consists of three distinct plants,--one for the production of the
varnishes, one for the manufacture of the pigments, and one for the
grinding of the pigments into the varnishes.
Roughly speaking, the varnishes are divided into three classes, the
first and second of which are the varnishes proper, _i.e._ the resin
and the linseed varnishes, while the third class consists of dryers,
etc., whose purpose is to influence the drying and consistency of the
inks.
Taking up first the proper varnishes, we find that these are produced
by the destructive distillation of resin in huge cast-iron stills. By
this process, the solid resin of colophony is split up into water,
various resinic acids or naphthas, and resin oils of various specific
gravities and consistencies, all of which are separated from each
other into separate containers which are ready to receive them. As one
distillation is not sufficient to purify the resin oils from the water
and acid, which would not only give the resulting ink an obnoxious
odor but be detrimental to type, plates, etc., the distillation is
repeated a number of times until the oils become perfectly pure. The
grades of varnishes made from these resin oils are used for the
cheaper classes of printing inks, not only on account of their lower
cost, but because they are more suitable for the class of work for
which such inks are used.
The linseed varnishes are made by boiling refined linseed oils at a
very high temperature. The linseed oil loses its acrid elements by
volatilization, and gradually becomes thick and viscous, the various
"numbers" or consistencies of these varnishes being dependent upon the
length of time during which the oil is subjected to the process, and
to the temperature applied.
The dryers are made by adding to the linseed oil during the boiling,
suitable oxidizing agents, such as compounds of lead or manganese, by
means of which the oil is chemically affected, _i.e._ it is oxidized.
Such dryers, when added to printing ink, attracts the oxygen of the
air and transfer it by catalytic action to the varnish of the ink,
thus causing it to oxidize more rapidly, or to become, as it is
commonly called, dry.
Having disposed of the manufacture of the varnishes and dryers, we now
come to the manufacture of pigments. This is such a large field that
it can be only cursorily covered within the limits of a short article.
The pigments are of many kinds and classes. The blacks alone would
form a large chapter by themselves; yet all of them consist of carbon,
produced by the combustion of hydrocarbons of various kinds, and
according to their origin they are the so-called carbon blacks, lamp
blacks, spirit blacks, oil blacks, Frankfort blacks, etc., each of
which has its distinct and peculiar properties and value for its
specific purpose.
The other pigments fall naturally into two divisions,--chemical colors
and the so-called "lakes." The chemical colors are in general of
mineral origin, produced by the action of one chemical upon the other,
or in some cases by physical or chemical action upon earths and ores.
In the first group, we have such colors as vermilions, white lead,
chrome yellows, the ferrocyanide blues (Milori blues, bronze blues,
Prussian blues, Chinese blues, Antwerp blues, Paris blues, Berlin
blues), ultramarines, etc.; in the second group, such colors as
cyanides, umbers, Indian red, and many others.
The lakes are principally formed by the use of coal-tar derivatives,
and are usually incorrectly grouped as anilines. They are produced by
precipitating water-soluble dyes upon a suitable substratum or base.
Their shades, strength, brilliancy, permanency, and working qualities
are dependent upon the nature of the dye itself, upon the nature and
percentage of the substratum or base, and also upon the suitable
selection and manipulation of the precipitating agents. This class of
colors is to-day by far the most important of all, since through great
progress made in chemistry in recent years, it is possible to make
them of the greatest possible strength and permanency, together with a
brilliancy of shade which was for many years an ideal earnestly
striven for, but apparently impossible to accomplish.
Having thus considered the products which are the principal raw
materials of printing ink, we now come to the ink itself. Being
provided with all the varnishes, pigments, dryers, etc., of suitable
qualities and shades, it is necessary to combine them in proper
proportions, after selecting such as will be mutually compatible, and
to grind them to the utmost fineness. The machinery to accomplish this
purpose consists, first, of mixers, in which the ingredients are
thoroughly incorporated with each other. This being done, the
resulting mixture or "pulp," as it is called, is ground upon mills
formed of rollers or cylinders, which are set in close contact by
means of screws and made to revolve by power. Between these rollers
the pulp is passed again and again, the number of times being
dependent upon the consistency of the ink and the nature of the
pigments, until it is ground or comminuted to the utmost fineness. The
result is printing ink as it is known
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