Below and in front of the case, sliding back and forth upon a track at the will of the operator, is the stick, or mechanical hand, which takes the letters from the case. The stick consists of a semicircular groove for receiving the type, and a lever or key for operating it. The uppermost end of the stick forms an indicator, pointing to the index upon the shield. The key is provided at one end with a tongue, or plunger, for lifting the type, and the other forms a handle for working it. The whole weighing but a few ounces, it is moved with the greatest ease from letter to letter. The operator, seizing the handle with the thumb and finger, runs it nearly opposite the letter to be taken. It is so arranged with an adjusting gauge that no greater accuracy of stroke is required than in playing a piano. As the handle of the key is depressed, a type is thrust out into the stick. As the handle is raised again, a “follower” pushes the type just lifted sufficiently down the channel to allow the next one to be taken in the same way. This operation is repeated till the stick is full, when it is run to one end of the track, and the line slipped into the justifier. The stick is then ready for another line; and, when several are set, they are justified by hand. In all machines that have heretofore been produced, use has been made of a set of keys to take the letters from the case; and at first thought these would seem to have an advantage over this with its single key. But experience has proved it otherwise; for the object is not merely to take the letters from the case, but also to form them into line; and this last has hitherto proved the most difficult and expensive part of the work. A case capable of holding one hundred and fifty lines of type the size of this in which this book is printed is about thirty inches in length; and when one letter is taken from one end of the case and the next from the other end, the difficult thing is to bring them together into line quickly, surely, and with perfect safety. It will readily be seen that in this passage there is likely to be loss of time, and the types are liable to misplacement, and, in the case of the more delicate, to breakage. That nothing is gained by multiplying the keys, will at once be seen when it is considered that the keys, however many there may be, must be struck singly, and time allowed for disposing of each letter as it is indicated. The operation of type-setting is not like that of playing the piano, where several keys are struck simultaneously; but, on the contrary, care must be taken not to touch more than one at a time. In short, that nothing is gained, but much is lost, by this multiplicity of the keys, becomes apparent when we consider the complication which it involves. The machine we have seen in operation contains one hundred and fifty letters, and uses but one key; and this key is of the simplest construction. The motion of the key which lifts the letter puts it