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. [Illustration: SLOTTED BRASS CORNERS.]