The Reader’s duty is not only to see that the punctuation and the spelling are correct, but also to make a note of interrogation against any passage which appears doubtful or incomplete. Some authors profit by these unobtrusive queries; others resent them and snub the Reader.[45] Though not exactly perfect, he bestows much time and patience over his work, and the general correctness of books shows that his labour is not in vain. With all his care and anxiety, however, errors will creep in—it is a moot point whether an absolutely correct book was ever published. It is curious, too, that the most obvious blunders are sometimes passed by a painstaking and careful Reader, as if to show that experienced watchfulness is liable to occasional defeat; for example, there is the case of one Reader who passed for press as accurate a work of reference in which were quotations from many languages, yet overlooked an error on the title-page, though there the types were even larger. Some of the “devils,” or reading-boys, whose duty it was to read the MS. aloud while the Reader marked the errors on the proofs, used to attain by long practice exceptional ability in deciphering the vilest “copy,” and the compositor occasionally availed himself of their aid in a difficulty. But since typewriting has come into general use, illegible copy is comparatively rare. Further up the stairs, beyond the Readers’ rooms, were other case-rooms, one for the “jobbing” department and another known as “The Garret,” containing about twenty persons, where the case apprentices were trained by experienced men. While the formes were being prepared for press, the damping-room below was called into operation. It was here that the paper to be printed was damped, in order that it might take on better the impression from the type. This process is now almost abandoned, except in the case of some special make of paper, as printing papers are now made with a texture which does not require damping. In the early days of Paul’s Work, however, it was very necessary.