Now, sir, let us up-stairs and see how these bars are fitted for printers’ use. This is a punch-cutter—a man of exquisite finger and unerring eye—sitting amid keen and delicate tools and accurate gauges. There are but few of this kind of men in the world. On the end of a piece of steel he is forming a letter. A touch here and a touch there, and frequent testing by gauges,—so he proceeds, till the letter is done; then another, and another, till the alphabet is complete; all the letters harmonizing entirely in height, breadth, appearance, length of stroke, &c. A smoke-proof of the dies is taken, and if approved the dies are one by one placed in a stamping-machine, so,—and an oblong piece of copper is set under it, so,—and then this lever is brought down, so,—and a perfect impression of the die is left, as you see, deep in the copper. This is the matrix. The matrices are passed over to other workmen in the adjoining room. Observe now the carefulness and skill exercised in fitting up these bits of copper, so that, when placed in the mould, the types cast in them shall range accurately and be of uniform height. The slightest variation would give the zigzag appearance which you may have noticed in badly-made type. This we endeavour sedulously to avoid, and with how much success you can judge from our Specimen Book. Look at this drawer full of matrices. You say they are triumphs of art? True saying, evincive of good judgment.
CASTING MACHINE.
You wonder what these curious-looking instruments are which lie, in dusty repose, on the shelves around the room? Those, Mr. Typograph, are hand-moulds, and at one time they provoked intense covetousness on the part of rival founders. One of our earliest predecessors, Mr. Archibald Binny (our foundry dates from 1796), added such valuable improvements to the ordinary mould, that no other foundry in the world could rival the expedition and accuracy with which types were cast in the establishment of which he was a co-proprietor. Their day has passed, however. They have been superseded by the machines which you will see in operation in another apartment. But they were capital things in their time, sir, and we regard them with somewhat of an antiquary’s reverence.
Now we enter the casting-rooms. These tiny machines, small as they are, can throw out more type in one day than you would be likely to count in a month, even if you could call off one hundred a minute, and occupy ten hours a day. Snug little fellows, are they not? They were invented by a New-Yorker, Mr. David Bruce, Jr. A very ingenious man, you say? That is true. Look at one carefully. The metal is kept fluid by a little furnace underneath, and is projected into the mould by a pump, the spout of which, you see, is in front of the metal-pot. The mould is movable, and at every revolution of the crank it comes up to the spout, receives a charge of metal, and flies back with a fully-formed type in its bosom; the upper half of the mould lifts, and out jumps a type as lively as a tadpole. You don’t see how the letter is formed on the end of the type? True, we had forgotten: well, this spring in front holds in loving proximity to the mould a copper matrix, such as you saw just now in the fitting-room. The letter a, for instance, stamped in the matrix, sits directly opposite the aperture in the mould which meets the spout of the pump; and when a due proportion of a’s is cast, another matrix with b stamped in it takes its place; and so on throughout the alphabet. Slow work, you say, one at a time? Well, the world is peopled after that fashion; and it fills up fast enough. But just time this machine: it is making small, thin type. Count the type made in a minute. One hundred and seventy-five, you say. One hundred per minute will probably be the average of the ordinary sizes of printing type.
The types are not finished yet? Oh, no. These nimble-fingered boys are breaking off the jets, or waste ends of the type. Quick, a’n’t they? Now let us go up stairs into the dressing-room. An immense beehive? Yes, indeed, it looks like one. The lads clustered around the large circular stones, with leather-protected fingers, rub off the rough edges of the type. But men as well as type require their rough edges taken off before they are good for much in the world. These boys at the tables set up the type in long lines. You think that if you could pick up dollars as fast as they pick up type, you would retire an independent man in a year or two? We wish you could, Mr. Typograph; we wish you could.
The lines of type now pass into the hands of the dresser. Observe how deftly he slips them into a long stick, shakes them down on their face, screws them up, fastens them into a planing-board, and with one or two pushes with a planing tool accurately grooves the bottom of the type, removing entirely the burr left when the jet is broken off, and giving each type a pair of legs to stand upon, till it is worn out and returned to the melting kettle. What is the eye-glass used for? Why, sir, as soon as the types are grooved, the dresser narrowly inspects the face of the type, and if an imperfect letter is discovered by the aid of the magnifying glass, it is incontinently turned out. Ah, sir, if we were all inspected as severely as he criticises type, some of us, perhaps, would hardly pass muster. The immaculate types are next put up in pages of convenient size, and are ready for the purchaser.
Let us drop into the large machine-room. Does not every thing hum here! Is it not a beautiful sight to see the shafts and belts and pulleys whirling around as if they were all alive? Here we fit up our machines, make our moulds, repair damages to machinery, &c. The multifarious uses of these lathes you must be familiar with: this ponderous machine is an iron planer: how it makes the iron chips fly! What is that curiously-arranged lathe? That is for cutting Labour-Saving Rule,—the rule which you have found so convenient and economical in your job-room. We make it of many different styles of faces: some single, some dotted or hyphen-lines, and others parallel or double, of varying thicknesses. They are all cut to Pica ems in length, and are furnished with mitred corner-pieces of different angles, so contrived, in most of the sizes, as to allow the rule to be used single or double, and with the fine lines inside or outside.
