In a treatise on botany, we have been told, “we first find those that form the bud, then the calx, the corrola, the stamina and pistol.” The writer should have spelled correctly, and dotted his i’s.
A catalogue of hardware to be sold by auction had an item, “3 bbls. English pocket-knives.” This was set from “commercial” writing, in which “bbls.,” or something like it, was used as a contraction for “bladed.”
“Nature intended man for a social being. Alone and isolated, man would become impatient and peevish.” No doubt this is true, but “the types” were to blame again,—the author fancied that he had written “impotent, and perish.”
The constitution of a certain corporation appeared with the following article in the proof-sheet: “The Directors shall have power to purchase, build, equip or charter all such steamboats, propellers, or other vessels, as the engineers of the Corporation shall in their judgment require.” Why the Directors should be placed at the mercy of the engineers seemed unaccountable. But a critical examination of the {p18} manuscript revealed that the “engineers” were “exigencies.”
A “Bill of exceptions, having been examined, and found unfavorable to the truth, is allowed.” The Justice who signed the above, understood the word which we have italicized to be “conformable.”
“They could not admit those parts of the testimony until they had examined the plaintiff in regard to the poets,”—“facts” should have been written instead of “poets”; but the “pen” made an error which the compositor did not feel at liberty to correct.
We have read in a newspaper a description of a battle-field:—“It was fearful to see: the men fell in ranks, and marched in pantaloons to their final account.” This was explained by an erasure and a blot on the word “platoons.”
It is very easy to say that errors of the kind we have recited, are owing to the ignorance or carelessness of the printers; but, on the other hand, when printed copy is reset, such errors almost never occur,—and the absence of errors is in direct ratio to the legibility of the copy.
Men who write much, generally imagine that they write well; but their imagination is often a vain one. The writer of the worst manuscript we recollect to have met with, expressed surprise when told that printers and proof-readers could not read his writing, and remarked that he had often been complimented on the plainness and neatness of his chirography. His memory was, no doubt, excellent,—the {p19} compliments must have been bestowed in his juvenile days, when he was imitating engraved copies.
While one is imitating a copy, he may, indeed, write legibly, nay, even elegantly; for he has nothing to attend to, save the formation of the letters. But when one is writing a report or a sermon or a poem, his mind is busy with something besides chirography.