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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Ye'd no business out here. Ye're not precisely a pigeon." Down we went, one after another, by the ladder, and now we fell into the composing-room, where Buchanan said he felt warmer.
The wires would be warming up and the "flimsy" arriving at the telegraph editor's desk in bunches, and old man Jeffreys would be reaching in the left bottom drawer of his scarred old desk for his little package of bread and cheese with an apple or a banana to top it off; he always ate that twenty-five minutes after midnight, just before the linotype men and the rest of the composing-room staff, who ate at the all-night restaurant around the corner, straggled back to their work.
The tiger was brought in its cage and placed in the composing-room, where it consumed fifteen dollars' worth of meat in two days the major's bill was only twelve dollars and scratched one trouser leg off of the reporter, who was standing in front of the cage stirring up the animal with a broom.
They sat and Booms had contrived to raise a third chair somewhere with a pile of work in front of them which at first seemed hopeless to expect to overtake. There were effusions to "decline with thanks," and others to enter in a book and send up to the composing-room; there were some letters to write and others to answer; there were reporters' notes to string together and telegrams to transcribe.
Thus we now have the expressions: a "composing-room," a "composing-stick," etc. People once addressed "Mr. Printer," not "Mr. Printer" on the street removed their hats but not in Philadelphia. Young Franklin felt a proper degree of pride in his work, if not vanity.
We were not long in discovering that the foreman of the composing-room received "tokens of regard" from salesmen; that the foreman of the press-room was regularly on the payroll of several companies furnishing inks and rollers, and had a brother-in-law running a little print shop around the corner and spending very little money for ink, paper, and other such materials.
He looked around and met the intent gaze of the foreman of the composing-room. "What is it, Veltman?" he asked sharply. "That epidemic story." "Well? What about it?" "Did you order it killed?" "Certainly. Haven't you thrown it down?" "No. It's still in type." "Throw it down at once." "Mr. Surtaine, have you thought what you are doing?" "It is no part of your job to catechize me, Veltman."
"That will pique all the gossips in town, and nearly double our next issue," complacently muttered the local editor, as he carried the scrawl at the last moment into the composing-room.
Then there came a job in the composing-room of a newspaper, and the life-work of Henry George was really begun, for his employers had discovered that he could "rastle the dic.," and if copy were scarce he could create it. The gold-fever got into the blood of Henry George, and his savings became a shining mark for the mining-shark. A thousand men lose money at mining where one strikes pay-gravel.
A busy scene that is which we survey, looking down through openings in the wall of the corridor. Here is the composing-room, where that magnificent record of orchidology in three languages, the "Reichenbachia," slowly advances from year to year.
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