As fast as the proofs are taken they go into the room of the
proof-readers to be corrected. The bits of copy are pasted together
again, and one man holds the copy while another reads the proof aloud.
The man holding the copy notices any points in which the proof does not
read like the copy, and tells the man who is reading it. The man reading
it corrects the variations from copy, and corrects all the other mistakes
which he can discover, and then the type-setters have to change the type
so as to make it right. There the proof readers sit hard at work, reading
incredibly fast, and making rapid and accurate corrections; then the
"copy" is locked up, and no one can get at it, except the Managing Editor
or Editor-in-Chief gives an order to see it. This precaution is taken, in
order to make certain who is responsible for any mistakes which appear in
the paper--the editors, or the type-setters.
By this time it is nearly midnight, and the editors, type-setters, etc.,
take their lunches. They either go out to restaurants for them, or have
them sent in--hot coffee, sandwiches, fruit, etc.--a good meal for which
they are all glad to stop.
And now the Foreman of the type-setters sends to the Night Editor that
matter enough is in type to begin the "make-up"--that is, to put together
the first pages of the paper. There the beautiful type stands, in long
troughs, all corrected now, the great numbers of the type-setters removed
from between the bits of type--the whole ready to be arranged into page
after page of the paper. So the Night Editor makes a list of the articles
which he wants on the page which is to be made up; the Foreman puts them
in in the order which the Night Editor indicates; the completed page is
wedged securely into an iron frame, and then is ready to be stereotyped.
[Illustration: A NEWS-DEALER.]
The room of the stereotypers is off by itself. There is a furnace in it,
and a great caldron of melted type metal. They take the page of the paper
which has just been made up; put it on a hot steam chest; spat down upon
the type some thick pulpy paper soaked so as to make it fit around the
type; spread plaster of Paris on the back, so as to keep the pulpy paper
in shape; and put the whole under the press which more perfectly squeezes
the pulpy paper down upon the type, and causes it to take a more perfect
impression of the type. The heat of the steam chest warms the type, and
quickly dries the pulpy paper and the plaster of Paris. Then the pulpy
paper is taken off, and curved with just such a curve as the cylinders of
the printing-press have, and melted type metal is poured over it, which
cools in a moment; when, lo, there is a curving plate of type-metal just
like the type! The whole process of making this plate takes only a few
minutes. They use such plates as these, rather than type, in printing the
great papers chiefly for reasons like these: 1. Because plates save the
wear of type; 2. Because they are easier handled; 3. Because they can be
made curving, to fit the cylinders of the printing presses as it would be
difficult to arrange the type; 4. Because several plates can be made from
the same type, and hence several presses can be put at work at the same
time printing the same paper; 5. Because, if anything needs to be added
to the paper, after the presses have begun running, the type being left
up-stairs can be changed and new plates made, so that the presses need
stop only a minute for the new plates to be put in--which is a great
saving of time.
But, coming down into the Editorial Rooms again--business Tom, and
thoughtful Jonathan, and sleepy little Nell--all is excitement. Telegrams
have just come in telling of the wreck of an ocean steamer, and men are
just being dispatched to the steamer's office to learn all the
particulars possible, and to get, if it may be, a list of the passengers
and crew. And now, just in the midst of this, a fire-alarm strikes, and
in a few moments the streets are as light as day with the flames of a
burning warehouse in the heart of the business part of the city. More men
are sent off to that; and, what with the fire and the wreck, every
reporter, every copy-editor, every type-setter and proof-reader are put
to their hardest work until the last minute before the last page of the
paper must be sent down to the press-rooms. Then, just at the last,
perhaps the best writer in the office dashes off a "leader" on the wreck
sending a few lines at a time to the type-setters--a leader which, though
thought out, written, set, corrected, and stereotyped in forty minutes,
by reason of its clearness, its wisdom, and its brilliancy, is copied far
and wide, and leads the public generally to decide where to fix the
blame, and how to avoid a like accident again. There is the work of the
"_editorial articles, reviews, and notes_"--to comment on events which
happen, and to influence the minds of the public as the editorial
management of the paper regards to be wise. There is all sorts of this
editorial writing--fun, politics, science, literature, religion--and he
who says, with his pen, the say of such a newspaper, wields an influence
which no mind can measure.
[Illustration: A BAD MORNING FOR THE NEWS-BOYS.]
Well, the fire, and the wreck, have thoroughly awakened even little Nell.
And so down, down we go, far under ground, to the Press-rooms. There the
noise is deafening. Two or three presses are at work. At one end of the
press is a great roll of paper as big as a hogshead and a mile or more
long. This immense roll of paper is unwinding very fast, and going in at
one end of the machine; while at the other end, faster than you can
count, are coming out finished papers--the papers printed on both sides,
cut up, folded, and counted, without the touch of a hand--a perfect
marvel and miracle of human ingenuity. The sight is a sight to remember
for a lifetime. Upon what one here sees, hinges very much of the thinking
of a metropolis and of a land.
And now, here come the mailing clerks, to get their papers to send
off--with great accuracy and speed of directing and packing--by the first
mails which leave the city within an hour and a half, at five and six
o'clock in the morning. And after them come the newsboys, each for his
bundle; and soon the frosty morning air in the gray dawn is alive with
the shouting of the latest news in this and a dozen other papers.
[Illustration: "ANY ANSWERS COME FOR ME?"]
This, I am sure, is too fast a world even for business Tom: so let us
"spirit" ourselves back to our beds in the quiet, slow-moving, earnest
country--Tom and Jonathan and little Nell and I--home, and to sleep--and
don't wake us till dinner-time!