CHAPTER II. PROOF-READING.
So long as authors the most accomplished are liable to err, so long as compositors the most careful make occasional mistakes, so long as dictionaries authorize various spellings, just so long must there be individuals trained and training to detect errors, to rectify mistakes, and to decide upon and settle all points which lexicographers leave in doubt. Such individuals are known as Proof-readers.
Movable types, after having been used in printing newspaper or book, etc., are distributed to their several compartments (boxes) for future use. In distributing, the compositor, holding several lines in his left hand, takes from the top line, between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, as many words or letters as he can conveniently manipulate, and moving his hand over the case drops each letter into its proper box. Suppose, for instance, he takes up the word “feasible”; he carries his hand to the “f” box, and drops off the first letter; of course he knows, without looking at the word again, that he is next to drop off the “e”—and so, very quickly, his hand glides from box to box, each receiving its proper letter. This process is repeated until the {p34} types which composed the form are all, apparently, returned to the compartments whence they were taken.
Suppose, however, that when ready to distribute “feasible,” his attention is drawn momentarily to a neighbor who desires his opinion as to a blotted word in his take, and that, on returning to his work of distributing, he imagines, or seems to remember, that the word in hand is “fencible,”—the “a” goes into the “n” box, and the “s” finds itself at “c.” By and by, in setting type from this same case, the compositor picks up the letters for “emancipate.” If he happens to take up the two wrong letters consecutively from the right boxes, his proof-sheet—unless he reads and corrects the matter in his stick—will present the word “emaasipate”—which the proof-reader will mark, for the compositor to correct.
Or it may happen in distributing, that the “f” and “e” cohere, and are both dropped into the “f” box. If the compositor’s mind is not intent on the matter in hand, the error may not be noticed at once; in which case the “a” gets into the “e” box, and some or all the other letters of the word go wrong. The error must be discovered when the last letter is reached; but to search for each misplaced type until it is found, would probably take more time than would be required to correct the errors which must otherwise appear in the proof.
But it is not in distributing only, that blunders occur. There are many other sources of error, and will be so long as present methods continue in vogue. {p35} The only wonder is, that so few errors escape detection before the printer’s work is handed over to the reading public. We have by us an octavo Shakspeare, each page of type from which it was printed, having contained, as can be demonstrated, over six thousand pieces of metal, the misplacing of any one of which would have caused a blunder.
But the detection and marking of wrong letters forms a comparatively small part of a proof-reader’s duty. He must be able to tell at sight whether a lead is too thick or too thin, and to discriminate between a three-em space and a four-em space. Many other important matters fall within his province,—and these we shall endeavor to point out before closing the present chapter.
Other things being equal, printers make the best proof-readers. We have known two or three remarkably skillful readers, whose work could not be surpassed, who never imposed a form, nor set a line of type. These, however, were rare exceptions.
A practical printer who never heard of the digamma, and who has never read anything but newspapers, will generally make a better proof-reader than an educated man who is not practically acquainted with the typographic art; for the printer has, year in and year out, had a daily drill which makes him skillful in orthography, and he has been compelled to give close attention to the grammatical points. Further, his dealing with individual types enables him to see, without searching, errors which men far more learned than he, do not readily {p36} perceive; and his pen pounces on a wrong letter as instinctively and unerringly as the bird darts on its insect prey.
Sterne has uttered a sneer at the husk and shell of learning; but the best bread is made from the whole meal, and includes the “shorts” and the “middlings” as well as the fine flour. If every lawyer, physician, and clergyman were to spend six months at the “case” before entering upon his profession, he would find, even in that short term of labor, a useful fitting and preparation for such literary tasks as may afterward devolve upon him.
Nearly all manuscript copy is indebted to the compositor and proof-reader for the proper punctuation; and many errors in spelling, made by men who probably know better, but write hastily, are silently corrected in the printing-office. Contradictions, errors of fact, anachronisms, imperfect sentences, solecisms, barbarisms, are modestly pointed out to the author by the proof-reader’s “quære,” or by a carefully worded suggestion; and, most usually, the proof is returned without comment,—and none is needed,—corrected according to the proof-reader’s intimations. Dickens, and a few other writers of eminence, have acknowledged their indebtedness in such cases; but we know one proof-reader—whose experience embraces an infinite variety of subjects from bill-heads to Bibles—who can remember but three cases in which his assistance, whether valuable or otherwise, was alluded to in a kindly manner. On the other hand, the correction in the proof is sometimes {p37} accompanied by some testy remark: as, “Does this suit you?” or, “Will it do now?” The proof-reader is, however, or should be, perfectly callous to all captious criticisms and foolish comments; he need care nothing for “harshness” or other nonsense, provided his work is well and thoroughly done. Let no nervous or touchy man meddle with proof-reading.
For the especial benefit of our non-professional readers, we will here point out the usual routine in regard to proofs. The editor or publisher of a book or periodical sends to the printer such portions of reading-matter or manuscript as he can, from time to time, conveniently supply. This copy is passed to a head-workman, who divides it into a number of parts, called “takes,” each part being a suitable quantity for a compositor to take at one time; and the name of each compositor is penciled at the top of his take. The type when set up is called “matter.”
When there is enough matter to fill a “galley” (a metallic or wooden casing about two feet in length), an impression, or “proof,” is taken on a strip of paper wide enough to receive in the margin the correction of such errors as may be found. This proof, with the corresponding copy, is carried to the proof-reader’s desk for examination and correction.
The reader will have at hand a copy of such directions as may have been furnished by author, editor, or publisher, to which he appends, from time to time, memoranda of all eccentricities of orthography and capitalization,—in short, all peculiarities of style, as they arise. This he consults frequently while {p38} reading the proof-sheet, and, for obvious reasons, with especial attention after any unusual delay in the progress of the work. Directions and notes as to captions, sizes of type, form of tables, etc., are of utility, especially when several readers are employed on the same publication; but directions can scarcely be framed so as to ensure[3] uniformity, except in few particulars. We subjoin two or three samples of directions and memoranda: our remarks in brackets.
MEMORANDA FOR PROOF-READERS.
The form is regular octavo.
Text is long primer, single leaded.
Tables and lists, having rules and boxheads, nonpareil solid.
Headings of tables and lists, brevier italic, lower case.
There are no numbered chapters. The heading of each section, which takes the place of chapter heading, is pica light-face celtic caps, spaced.
Geological ages and epochs are capitalized; for example, “Devonian,” “Trias,” “sub-Carboniferous” v. [page 176.]
Quoted extracts in regular text type (long primer), between quotation marks.
Capitalize “the West,” “the South,” etc., but not “western New York,” “central Pennsylvania,” etc.
Do not use “&c.” for “etc.”
“Prof.,” “Gen.,” etc., preceding initials or Christian name; “Professor,” “General,” etc., when last name alone is used; for example, “Prof. J. Smith,” “General Grant,” etc.
Full point after roman numerals.
“Saint Louis,” etc.; spell out “Saint.”
Names of periodicals, in italics.
Names of books, roman, in quotation marks.
“Panther creek”; but “Panther Creek district.” That is, capitalize titles. {p39}
The following sample relates to an octavo on Fishes:
Make “cod fishery” two words.
“Offshore,” “Inshore” [no hyphen].
“Sheepshead” [name of fish. Webster inserts an apostrophe and a hyphen,—“Sheep’s-head”].
“Herring fisheries” [no hyphen].
“Herring-nets” [insert hyphen].
From a quarto on Fishes:
“Cod-fisherman” [hyphen].
“Cod fishery” [two words].
Engineer work:
Make footnotes of the “Remarks” column.
For “D. D.” in copy, spell “dry-dock.”
Use figures in all cases, for weights, distances, etc.
The following was for a Digest—Decisions:
Spell “travelling,” “employee,” and divide “ser-vice.” [“Travelling” and “ser-vice” are Worcester style. Webster divides “serv-ice.”—In regard to “employee,” neither Webster nor Worcester gives it place; but, instead, the French “employé.” Webster has this note following the French word: “The English form of this word, viz., employee, though perfectly conformable to analogy, and therefore perfectly legitimate, is not sanctioned by the usage of good writers.” Since Webster’s note was written, some good writers, as in the book of Decisions above mentioned, have used the English word, as many printing-office employees can testify,—and “employé” may as well be sent home, according to the immigration laws, as unable to sustain itself in this country.[4]]
4 Since the above remark was written, we have found “employee” admitted as a correct English word, in Worcester’s “Supplement.”
Weather Reports:
The “upper Missouri valley” [small v].
The “Mississippi river” [small r].
Geological Survey:
The “Missouri Valley” [cap. V].
The “Missouri River” [cap. R].
The proof-reader knows, that (as we have already remarked) every printing-office has a style of its own; that, if left to itself, its style would be practically uniform and always respectable,—and he soon learns that some writers for the press have very firm opinions about matters of little or no consequence, and are very tenacious, if not pugnacious, in preferring tweedledee to tweedledum; not because it is written with more e’s, but because it is more correct—in their opinion. However great may be a reader’s capacity for memorizing trifling details, it is next to impossible to keep minute verbal differences on different mental shelves. After the big book is bound, one will be likely to find a mingling of styles; the big River of one page becomes a little river on the next; “Pittsburg” here, reads “Pittsburgh” there; and the dignified “National Park” of the first chapter will dwindle to a mere “national park” in chapter the twelfth.
If not hurried by a press of work, as may sometimes be the case, the reader will first glance at the proof as a whole. A variation in the thickness of the leads, or a wrong indention, will, in this tout-ensemble survey, very quickly catch his eye. Then, still supposing he has time, he will read the galley through silently, correcting errors in spelling; marking turned or inverted letters; improving the {p41} spacing, the punctuation; noting whether the heads and subheads are in the required type; whether the capitalization is uniform; whether—if the “slip” beneath his eye happen to be near the end of a large volume—the word “ourang-outang” which he now meets with, was not printed somewhere in the earlier part of the work as “orang-outang,” or, in fact, whether, after some questioning, it finally went to press as “orang-utan,”—which word he must now, to preserve uniformity, hunt for and find among his old proofs, if, peradventure, author or publisher, or other person, have not borrowed them “for a few minutes,”—alas! never to be returned.
Having settled this, and all similar cases and other doubtful matters, he hands the copy to an assistant, called a “copy-holder,” whose duty it is to read the copy aloud, while he himself keeps his eye on the print (but in newspaper offices, for the sake of greater celerity, the proof-reader often reads aloud, while the copy-holder follows him silently, intent on the copy: interrupting, however, whenever any discrepancy is observed). If the reader desire the copy-holder to pause while he makes a correction, he repeats the word where he wishes the reading to stop; when ready to proceed he again pronounces the same word, and the copy-holder reads on from that place.
The manner of marking, in the text, all errors noticed, is shown, infra, in the “Specimen of First Proof.” The corrections to be made are indicated, in the margin, by appropriate words or characters from “Marks used in correcting Proofs”—also {p42} inserted below. Writers for the press who themselves examine proof-sheets of their works, should familiarize themselves with proof-reading technics. An author who received for the first time some proof-sheets returned them “clean”—apparently having detected no errors. He was afterward disgusted on finding it necessary to print a leaf of “errata,” and complained that his corrections had been entirely disregarded. On re-examining the proofs he had returned, it was found that he had corrected—with knife as well as pen. Where a comma was wanting, he had used the pen, carefully and skillfully imitating the printed character; and to convert semicolons into commas he had brought the knife into play,—nicely scratching out the superfluous part of the point.
Sometimes a line, or it may be several lines, of type are by some mishap out of perpendicular—slanting; so that only one side of each letter-face shows a full impression on the proof. It is usual in such case to draw several slanting marks across the faulty line or lines, and make similar marks in the margin. It is quite common, also, for readers to insert in the margin the words “off its feet,”—that being the printing-office designation for sloping matter. One reader abandoned writing these words, for two reasons: the first, that a compositor, when correcting, inserted them in the text, making an astonishing sentence; the second, that the marked passage,—a piece of close, logical reasoning,—after being carefully scanned by the author, was brought to the reader, with a very earnest request that he would {p43} point out what justice there was in that bluff remark. It is enough to draw what beginners in writing call “straight marks” across the matter, and also in the margin. We append other—