Now we come to the Face-printing Room of the troublesome little dollar. One hundred and thirty-five presses are flying in this room and another; the latter printing the seals and tints of cigar-stamps, gold-notes, etc., in hues as varied as the leaves in autumn. Standing in this door, looking down this long apartment, we see seventy-five presses flying at once. The air is quick with dangerous motion. Great shuttle-like fans flap above our heads. At every angle, presses, eager and accurate, seem ready to strike you, as well as the dollar, with unerring skill and execution. Beside each one stands a man, with face begrimed. Beside each man stands a woman, the helpmate of his toil. Between each flames a fiery little brazier, holding the gleaming plate to keen heat. The face printer runs his roller, wet with ink over the face of the absorbing plate. A cloth in his hand comes swiftly after, leaving only the fine lines of the plate traced with ink. The ready woman lays the moist paper on the warm ink-lined plate. The printer touches the wheel, turns it, the sheet flies up. Lo! at last, the beautiful new dollar! The girl takes it instantly, lays it, face down, on top of its new-born brethren. Already the roller is passing again over the polished plate, and her hands are outstretched to lay another sheet upon the waiting plate. In less than a minute another dollar is made.
An automatic register is connected with each press; thus every sheet, note, or stamp printed, is recorded, and serves as a check on the counter and printer. The register is locked, and the key kept with the keeper of the registers, appointed by the Secretary.
After leaving the press and being heaped a few moments by its side, the next thing that happens to our damp little dollar, is to be dried. The moist sheets, spread upon racks, are carried to the drying room until the next morning. The drying process leaves the sheets with a rough, wrinkled surface. The little dollar comes forth from its first bed, looking wizened and old, and is immediately sent to the “pressing division” to be rejuvenated. Here every thousand sheets, for six minutes, are subjected to a slow, steady pressure of two hundred and forty tons, from which every sheet issues smooth, soft, polished, and precious to the touch, as every soul will say who has been the first possessor of a virgin dollar.
The pressing division is superintended by Mr. Rallon, the “Nestor” of the Bureau. Mr. Edgar, superintendent of the examining division, assisted by thirty young ladies, takes care of the face-printed work. Mr. Evans, the United States Sealer, examines all the seal and tint prints. All mutilated, are carried to the counting division before being sent to the Secretary for destruction. Each printer is allowed a small percentage for unavoidable mutilation. If at the end of the month his number of mutilated exceeds this allowance, he is obliged to pay for the excess. Each printer works by “the piece,” and pays the woman who helps him—the price being regulated by the Bureau—one dollar per day.
After coming forth from the hydraulic presses, softly polished, every exquisite line and figure embossed in keen relief, the United States note sheets pass to the surface-sealing division. The process of seal-printing is the same as the first, and each sheet has to go through the same process the second time. Under the superintendence of Mr. Gray, six “Gordon” and six “Campbell” presses print the beautiful pink surface-seals. Here the small currencies, the national bank notes, the new special tax-paid stamps, receive the internal revenue seal. The “funded loan bond” alone is stamped with the aristocratic green seal.
Having been sealed, the dollar must now be numbered, and for that purpose passes into the numbering division, where it receives the last touch of printing from machines attended solely by women and girls. This machine works on the same principle as the famous paging machine. The numbers are set on the surface of a small wheel, and with every stroke of the stamp the next consecutive number flies up into its place; with the same stroke, a small roller, taking the red ink from the plate and feeding it to the type. These machines are regulated to change the numbers for a whole series. Two red numbers on each bill are put on by these machines. Intense care is necessary in this work, to prevent mistakes, and each bill is critically examined to ascertain its correctness. If mistakes are discovered at once, they can be rectified; but the red ink soon hardens and becomes indelible. If the mistake is discovered too late to correct it, it is charged to the lady who made it. This has been found to be the only way to secure adequate care on the part of the numberers.
The last line of printing is received in the red number set at top and bottom; all that remains for the dollar, before starting on its journey into the wide, wide world, is to be divided from its brethren, that it may start alone. Thus the United States note sheet is carried into the separating and trimming room. This used to be done by scissors, and gave to women, I believe, their first work in the Treasury. This room is one of the largest and busiest in the Bureau, and second only to the printing-room in interest. The wheels, straps and pulleys reaching to the ceiling, with which its air is perforated, give it, at first glance, a complicated atmosphere, till the eyes rest upon the many ladies sitting serenely at work below.
AMONG THE GREENBACKS.—THE CUTTING AND SEPARATING ROOM IN THE TREASURY BUILDING.—WASHINGTON
This work being all clean, and some of it dainty in its character, the result is visible in the tasteful attire of the workers, whose snowy aprons and delicate ribbons are in direct contrast to the worn and soiled raiment of the weary sisterhood of the tubs, and the inky presses of the wetting and printing divisions. Part of the woman’s work of this room is to needle the sheets, which must be done so accurately, that when hundreds together are laid in the cutting machine, the glittering blade will strike through a single line, not wavering a hair’s width through two hundred sheets. The room is thronged with those little guillotines, whose gleaming blades are in constant execution. Each Treasury note sheet which passes under them is cut into four notes at once, each sliding down, correctly sorted, into its own little box waiting below. Excepting the fractional currency cutters, all these exquisite machines are worked by ladies, who manipulate them with unerring accuracy.