"Over the type, after it was inked, was laid the paper, slightly dampened; over this was laid a blanket. Then a heavy weight had to be put on top the blanket and pressed down hard on the inked type in order to make a good print. This weight was a large wooden block fastened to the lower end of a great wooden screw which extended up through the upper cross piece. To turn this screw so that the block was pressed hard enough on the blanket and the paper to get a good clear print, and then to loosen the screw so that the printed sheet could be taken out and dried was no easy matter. The printer must use a long iron bar to turn the screw. This he would fit into a hole, or socket, in the screw and then, using this handle, turn the screw as far as he could."
"I know," said Jimmie. "There's a picture of that in my history. The poor fellow is just breaking his back to get more of a turn on that screw."
"Yes, that's it. There were several sockets around the head of the screw. The printer would turn the screw as far as he could with the bar in one socket, and then fit the bar into the next to get more of a turn. How I should like to see Franklin or Gutenberg or any other famous old-time printer examining the new press that will be ready for use in the Record office in a month or so. I think he would be speechless."
PART II
The day before his uncle's next visit Jimmie set his type to say, "Much interest is felt in the new Hoe press which will be installed in the Record office early next month. It is the first of the kind to be used by any newspaper in the city and will mark a revolution in newspaper printing. This new 'perfecting press' will make it possible to print 24,000 eight-page papers an hour—a thing not dreamed of a few years ago. People are anxious to see this fast press printing, cutting, folding, and delivering the papers all ready for the newsboys."
"You really know of somebody who is anxious to see the press, do you?" asked his uncle with a twinkle in his eye when he read the item in Jimmie's paper.
"Guess I do," said Jimmie. "Honestly, I won't be any bother; I won't be any bother; I won't ask any questions except about the press—cross my heart and hope to die."
Uncle Francis laughed. He knew Jimmie too well to think he would not be any bother, but he said, "All right; as soon as you have two good legs again I'll invite you to see the new machinery."
Jimmie's leg mended as fast as the leg of any boy should, and he was able in March to take the trip to the city. Jimmie's mother went with him.
"I want to see the big press, too," she explained to her brother.