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Typo: A Monthly Newspaper and Literary Review, Volume 5
[miscellaneous paragraphs]
An interesting experiment is being carried on by a lady type-writer in London. She has taken as pupils two deaf-mutes, and finds them particularly expert in the use of the machines.
According to the Effectîve Advertiser, an increasing number of the members of the London School Board are in favor of the introduction of a national system of spelling by sound. Some of the more hopeful advocates of reform indulge the hope that as soon as the Board in-includes phonetic reading in its scheme, publishers will flood the market with reading-books in the new orthography: the advantages of the system will at once be made manifest, and the present spelling (less than two centuries old) will pass away. Let us hope so, and that New Zealand will not be behindhand with the reform.
The Napier News is in deep waters. It has been driven to make a direct appeal to the public to raise a fund to enable it to meet its most pressing liabilities. Notwithstanding substantial help from political supporters, it began the year with a considerable deficit, and reports a loss of £750 on the twelvemonth's work. It badly wants £1000, and we have seen a copy of a printed circular in which it asks that that amount may be contributed, failing which it must close at the end of November. The amount has not been raised; and £1300 is now required; but the concern still lingers on in hope. Rather an undignified position.
A writer in the Graphische Anzeiger (Nürnberg), complains of the neglect of typefounders to provide em dashes for scripts. If the ordinary dash is used, it is generally high over the heads of the small letters, and the comp. has to have recourse to brass rule. Every job compositor must have made this observation; and now that attention has been directed to the deficiency, we hope that founders will take the hint.
From Messrs Charles Begg & Co., Dunedin, we have received No. 1 of the « Ouida Musical Folio, » published at one shilling. It is large folio size, and contains sixteen pieces of music, vocal and instrumental, original and selected. The first piece in the book, the « Sappho Ballet, » is a transcription from the phonograph. Among the original pieces we note « The Tramp of the Fire Brigade, » a spirited song by Thomas Bracken, the melody by Marcus Hume. The typography is excellent, and reflects great credit on Messrs Payton & Corrigan, the printers. The music-type we recognize as one of Klinkhardt's fonts—another example of the manner in which British types are being superseded by those of foreign manufacture.
One of the oddest blunders on record is now going the rounds. Lovers of cats are called on to protest against the latest atrocity of fashion. A Delaware house has undertaken to supply one hundred tons of cats' tails to a single St. Louis firm. The London Daily Telegraph, estimating the weight of a cat's tail at 2oz., calculates that not fewer than 1,792,000 cats must be decaudated to supply this single order. The sensational London daily never made a bigger blunder since its celebrated leader on the great representative conference of Drunkards (Dunkers) held in the United States. Writing to the Echo, an American gives a simple explanation of the item. « As a matter of fact, the 'cat-tail' is a weed of the bulrush type, carrying a spike at the top composed of thistledown, which is collected and used in the upholstery trade in America, and known to the trade by the same name as the plant. I am happy to think that my fair countrywomen have too much taste to wear Pussy's caudal appendage as an ornament. »
No more interesting or instructive libel case has ever been heard in New Zealand than the one of which a summary appears in our pages to-day. With the very best intentions, the Typographical Association blundered into a costly Supreme Court action, blundered even more egregiously in their line of defence, and thereby managed to forfeit all outside sympathy. The verdict of the jury was a just one, for the defence was practically a plea of guilty, and seriously aggravated the original libel. The Association have had the satisfaction of exposing the objectionable system on which a particular non-society office is conducted, and certain notable inconsistencies of precept and practice on the part of religious dignitaries; but have grievously weakened the effect by the methods they adopted. They had not the slightest intention of damaging Mr Evison—they were utterly indifferent to him either as a man or a manager. What they did want was to bring effectual pressure to bear upon an inflexible gentleman who occupies the dual position of ecclesiastic and trading printer and publisher; and to this end they used the threat of publishing certain correspondence. Quite incidentally they libelled his manager. The « degradation » was that which union men feel in being referred to the manager of a « rat » office. In their pleadings they absolutely repudiated the innuendoes alleged. Yet in the actual defence, with amazing fatuity, they not only bore out these innuendoes, but aggravated them tenfold. The charges of « humbug » and « hypocrisy » came with an ill grace from men who, knowing full well Mr Evison's freethought career, had held friendly interviews with him and written to him in the most courteous terms so long as they had a point to gain, and failing, found their souls filled with unutterable loathing for the man who, some seven years before, had edited the now defunct Rationalist. The whole reference to that infamous sheet was irrelevant—the long readings from its foul pages a public scandal. Under the magnetic influence of an examining counsel men strangely deceive themselves; and we feel convinced that the evidence was given with perfect bonâ fides, and that while in the box, the witnesses really felt the indignation they professed. Yet some of these identical gentlemen, a week or two before, as Trades Hall officers, officially welcomed the journalistic bantling of a gentleman upon whom Mr Evison's abandoned mantle has fallen—a freethought lecturer and writer of exactly the Rationalist stamp! They felt no degradation in commending his paper (which never saw a second number) to the favorable consideration of the trades unions. There are several lessons to be learned from the case—not the least important of which is the necessity of keeping clear of side-issues. No matter how worthy the object, or how laudable the intentions of its promoters, if they allow a false issue to be raised, themselves and their cause must alike suffer.
page 155
We have received a very interesting letter from the firm of Enschedé & Zonen, Haarlem, who tell us, among other things, that they have in preparation a history of their ancient foundry, which they intend to publish in 1893, to mark the term of 150 years during which the business has been in the possession of the Enschedé family. We will look with great interest for the appearance of this work, which cannot fail to throw much light on the early history of the Craft. In searching through the archives of the foundry (which is nearly as old as the art of typography), Messrs Enschedé were surprised and delighted to find record of several important matters connected with early typefounding which have so far been quite unknown to the historians of the art.
We have to thank M. Claude Motteroz, Paris, for a finely-printed copy of his Essai sur la Mise en Train Typographique, which originally appeared in l'Imprimerie. This little work describes in minute detail all the operations of making ready, testing margins, &c., and the various precautions to be observed in regard to pressure, adjustment of rollers, and the numerous other details, attention to which distinguishes the work of the careful and artistic pressman from that of—؟shall we say?—the average workman. The treatise is no hash of former works on the subject: in fact M. Motteroz's methods are the outcome of his own experience of many years, and in several respects differ from those in ordinary use: so much so that he does not expect his book to meet with a favorable reception in every quarter. The best justification of his system, however, is to be found in his work, which is uniformly of the highest class.
One of the English Associated Founders writes us: « We notice on page 16 of Typo, February 28th, a statement that the late Charles Derriey never sold drives of his designs. This is absolutely incorrect. We were personally acquainted with him, and we never knew him to refuse to sell strikes. Our 'Imperial' borders were wholly engraved by him, and on our application he named a price for the entire series, and sold us a set of strikes without any demur. His prices were high, but as none of the re gnized houses here resort to the piratical process of electrotyping, whatever faces he engraved that are now found in their books would no doubt be from strikes he had sold. » This is exactly what we had supposed until we read the statement quoted by us from Caslon's Circular, and which, as we remarked at the time, surprised us. It clearly requires qualification, and we are glad to make the correction, as the natural inference from the passage we quoted would be that Derriey's original designs were freely pirated by English founders.
Mr Ebenezer Sandford, the recently elected member for the Christchurch seat vacated by Mr Perceval, is a compositor, a Wesleyan lay preacher, and a supporter of the present Government. He is about 45 years of age. He served his time to the printing trade in a London office, and, after completing his apprenticeship, worked for some time as a compositor on the Echo, where his father was foreman. He came to Dunedin some eighteen or nineteen years ago, and was for a short time a compositor on the Guardian. He then accepted the position of printer of the Arrow Observer, and continued to work for Mr Warren till 1883, when he left Arrowtown, and going to Christchurch, obtained employment as a compositor in the Lyttelton Times office, where he is at present employed. He has always taken an active part in trade union affairs, and has been for some time a member of the Christchurch Trades and Labor Council. He was selected as one of the Christchurch delegates to the conference of employers and employees, held at Wellington about the time of the late unfortuuate strike. He is a prominent member of the Order of Druids.
A young schoolboy bathing at Mechanics' Bay, Auckland, some distance from the shore, saw the fin of a shark not far away, and began to scream. Mr William Joiner, a young man employed as machinist in the Herald office, who happened to be in the vicinity, called out to the lad to keep his courage up, and strike boldly for the land. Divesting himself of his coat and vest, and opening his large jack-knife, he placed it between his teeth, and swam straight out to face the shark, passing the boy, who was swimming to the shore. The fish made for Joiner, but to attack him had to turn on its back, when he stabbed it in the belly with his knife. A second time the shark went for him, but as it turned he thrust the knife into one of its eyes, when it sheered off, and appeared to sink in deep water, and Joiner returned to the shore, where he received the thanks of the boy whose life he had saved. No braver deed, says the Herald, has been done in Auckland harbor, and Joiner richly deserves the Society's medal. He is one of the finest long-distance swimmers in Auckland, and has on several occasions swam across the harbor and back again.
Mr Earnshaw, one of the labor members returned at the late general election, has admitted that he is spoiled as a working man. This is unfortunate, as he has not been a success as m.h.r. He now figures as a poet—with what success, the following extract from his published verses will show:
I have tried, lass—no go. It's just my luck; there's no more show.
Them contractors, through H. S. Fish, have struck such a blow
That the true Labor members are perplexed whether workers to them will stand true.
I fear not « O1d Colonist's » whine, but if it comes out all right
We'll pay the rent and the store, and thy dear face again shall beam bright.
This unique effusion thus concludes:
Brother workers, do you stand true,
For at this great crisis there rests with you
A work that no Capitalists for you will do.
A terrible disaster occurred at Park Place, New York, on 22nd August, when a lofty building fell, and nearly all the workers within lost their lives. The precise number of deaths is unknown, and the loss of property amounted to $150,000. The upper part of the building was occuped by Lieber & Maas, lithographers, and was pretty heavily loaded with their machinery and stock. Of their thirty or forty hands, not one escaped. Ellis & McDonald, bookbinders, occupied part of the building, and both partners were killed. The Lindsay Typefoundry also suffered, as well as the Smith Publishing Company, who lost all hands. The building was, of course, structurally unfit for the purpose to which it was applied. (So, doubtless, are a number of factories in New Zealand.) A reproduction from a photograph, published in some of our American contemporaries, gives a dismal picture of the ruins. We notice that the trade is coming liberally forward to the help of the bereaved families of those who perished.
Several items in type this month, under the head of Type Specimens, are held over to our next. The following is the scheme of some of the new styles of the Dickinson Foundry, Boston, described on page 151, showing duplicate characters and extras:
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In the Echo of 12th October, Mr Robert Buchanan has a poem of sixteen eight-line stanzas, full of fiery invective, on « The Burial of Parnell. » It is prefaced by a prose note: « When the noble Leader of Irish Freedom was first offered up to the false gods of moral and religious superstition, … one English voice alone arose in protest. That voice was mine, » &c. The fifteenth stanza is a good sample of the poem:
Not till our King lay bleeding there,
Crept forth with cruel eyne
The venom'd things which make their lair
Beneath the Seven-Hill'd shrine:
Then in the name of Him they priced,
Degraded, and betrayed, [Christ,
They poisoned, these false priests of
The wounds a Judas made!
It is strange to find so sturdy and robust a writer as Buchanan thus prostrating himself at the feet of such a clay idol as Parnell—one of the basest and most utterly selfish characters of modern times. The poet likens him to Cæsar—and as regards his ruling passion, the love of dominion, some resemblance may be admitted. No trust, public or private—no confidence, however implicitly given—was too sacred to be betrayed if it stood in the way of his ambition or of his lower passions. Before his fall, The Times was the only journal that was able to measure him. And this is the man that the erratic poet dubs Martyr, and for whom his eyes « grow dim above the holy spot where our dead monarch lies. » ! Holy! The word has been grievously degraded, as in its application to certain fabricated relics; but the « holy » grave of Parnell is too much.