“Sure, but why?”
“Because— Well, just set it, Walter. Then I’ll tell you why.” So I went out in the shop and sat down at the Linotype, and I ran a couple of pi lines to get the feel of the keyboard again, and then I put the copy on the clipboard and started. I said, “Hey, George, Marjorie spells her name with a j, doesn’t she, instead of a g?”
And George said, “Yeah,” in a funny tone of voice.
I ran off the rest of the squib, and then looked up and said, “Well?”
He came across and lifted the stick out of the machine and read the slugs upside down like all printers read type, and he sighed. He said, “Then it wasn’t me. Lookit, Walter.”
He handed me the stick, and I read the type, or started to.
It read. “The weding of H.M. Klaflin and Miss Margorie Burke took place yesterday evening at the home of the bride. The bridesmades were—”
I grinned. “Good thing I don’t have to set type for a living anymore, George. I’m slipping; three errors in the first five lines. But what about it? Now tell me why you wanted me to set it.”
He said, “Set the first couple lines over again, Walter. I—I want you to find out for yourself.”
I looked up at him and he looked so darned serious and worried that I didn’t argue. I turned back to the keyboard and started out again : “The wedding of—” My eyes went up to the assembly slide and read the characters on the front of the mats that had dropped, and I saw that it read, “The weding of—”