Having filled the cases, the workman is ready to “compose.” Standing in front of the cases which contain the Roman letters, and having placed the “copy,” or manuscript from which he is to set, upon the least used part of the upper case, he takes in his left hand the “composing-stick,” made of brass or iron, with a movable side which can be adapted to any width of line by means of a screw. He then commences putting the letters of each word of the copy, with the necessary points and spaces, into the stick, the thumb of his left hand meanwhile securing each addition, from left to right along the line. To facilitate the process, a thin slip of brass, called the “composing-rule,” is placed in the composing-stick at the outset, and pulled out and put on the front of a line when completed. When the stick is full of lines, the compositor, with the fingers of both hands, lifts them out as if they were a mass of solid metal, and places them in the “galley,”--a flat board or piece of zinc or brass, having a ledge at the head, and on one or both sides. To do this last successfully requires practice and skill. And the young printer, although no adept in pastry-making, learns, to his disgust, that there is nothing easier than to make “pi,” as the heap of jumbled type, which has slipped through his untrained fingers, is termed. The galley having been filled by the contents of successive sticks, and the requisite number of pages to form a sheet being completed, they are arranged upon a bench or “imposing stone,” and surrounded with pieces of wood, or “furniture,” so as to give a suitable margin for each page. The whole being then secured in the “chase,” or iron frame, by means of strips of wood and wedges. This is called “imposing.” Next, a “proof” is taken by impressing paper upon the type, that the compositor may see and correct the mistakes he may have made in putting the copy into type. Referring again to the engraving, “Composition room,” in the open space are the “imposing stones,” or “tables,” on which matter in type is placed in order to arrange it for printing; proofs are taken, errors corrected, and the “form” finally made ready for the press. [Illustration: Reading Proof.] But in this cozy, well-lighted room, sits one whose attitude is the picture of careworn and earnest attention. No matter what the din in the building around him, his faculties are concentrated on the pages of proof. It is one of the proof-readers,--and an assistant who reads the copy, whose office it is to see that the work goes forth to the public correct in literary and mechanical execution. His is a wearisome and responsible task. His eye, with lynx-like vigilance and microscopic power, must detect the minutest defects of press or author. Faults in punctuation, grammar, rhetoric, logic, and data he must point out. All this at a glance, in an establishment crowded with work. [Illustration] [Illustration] XXII.