IN a novel published some time ago, the copy contained a great deal of conversation that had to be printed in short paragraphs, each chapter being written in one long paragraph, with no quotation-marks, and almost no punctuation. The compositors had the injustice imposed upon them of breaking the matter into paragraphs, and supplying punctuation, with no recompense for doing this essential part of the author’s work. How such manuscript could secure acceptance by a publisher has never ceased to be a source of wonder, as it was not written by one whose mere name would carry it through; but a greater source of amazement is the fact that so many writers can make such abominable copy as they do make.

Certainly the writer should be the one most interested in having printed matter say what it is intended to say, and this can not be positively assured unless the written copy is accurate in form. Even the presence or absence of a comma may affect the sense in such a way that no person other than the writer can know positively whether the comma should be in or not.

Very few writers send to the printing-office such manuscript as every writer should furnish, yet they all demand accuracy in the printed matter. Let us make a bold proposition. Why should not employing printers of books combine in the determination to make an extra charge for every alteration from copy, even to the insertion or removal of a comma? Why should not authors have to pay extra for the work that should be and is not done by them in the first instance? Even this, however, would not change the fact that much manuscript will not bear close reproduction in print. An author who was making many expensive alterations in proof was requested to revise his matter in manuscript, and returned it unchanged, saying that he could find nothing wrong in it.

Compositors have always labored under the injustice of being expected to punctuate the matter they set, regardless of bad punctuation in their copy. How can they know better than the author should know? This is an injustice to them mainly because they must often change the punctuation in type, thus losing time for which they are not paid. The decision is left to the proof-reader, and even the best and most intelligent compositor simply can not always be sure that he is doing what the reader will decide to be right. Other matters of style present the same difficulty.

If any particular style is to be followed, as in capitalization, punctuation, paragraphing, or any other formal matter, it is not just to demand that piece-workers shall set their type accordingly unless the copy is first carefully prepared. In other words, it is a matter of the merest justice to compositors that ordinarily they should be allowed to follow copy strictly in every detail. On some kinds of work this is not so essential, as on newspapers, for instance, where there are many writers, and matter of a certain kind is always to be set in the one way. Publishers and editors of newspapers would be more just to all their workers, and probably more sure of getting what they want in style, if they could insist upon formal compliance at the hands of their writers rather than to throw the burden upon compositors and proof-readers. Responsibility for style does not rightly belong to the composing-room and proof-room; but if it must be assumed there, as commonly it must, every worker in those rooms should have an individual copy of a full and clear record of style. Those who receive work in book-offices, and who send it to the compositors, would certainly do well to question customers closely on all matters of style, especially in the case of anything other than plain reading-matter. It is well to have a distinct understanding with regard to complicated matter, and to record it when made, so that instructions may be clearly given to those who do the work.

An understanding having been had with the author or publisher, the manuscript should go first to the proof-reader and be prepared by him, so that the compositors need do nothing but follow copy closely. Of course this will not be necessary when the author furnishes good plain manuscript; but in other cases, of which there is no lack, it will surely pay.

The correction of authors’ errors is an important part of the reader’s duty, yet he should be very careful not to make “corrections” where there is a possibility that the writer wants just what he has written, even though it seems wrong to the reader. The proof-reader should not be held responsible for the grammar or diction of what he reads, except in the plainest instances, as there are many points of disagreement even among professed grammarians. Plain errors in grammar or diction, as those following, the good proof-reader will correct.

A New York newspaper mentioned Frenchmen who “content themselves with sipping thimbles full of absinthe.” The reader should have known that the men do not use thimbles for the purpose of drinking, and that thimblefuls are what they sip.

When the proof-reader had a paragraph saying that “the arrivals at the hotels show a falling off of over 100 per cent.,” he should have known that this is an impossibility, since it leaves the arrivals less than none.

When another reader saw something about “the buildings comprising the old brick row,” he should have corrected it to composing. Buildings compose the row, and the row comprises buildings.

It would not be fair to expect every proof-reader to be thoroughly up in zoÖlogical nomenclature. No reader, though, should pass a word like depuvans unchallenged, because that is the best he can make of what is written. He should ascertain in some way that the word is dipnoans, or query it for some one else to correct. On the “Century Dictionary” the editor struck out a quotation, “The miracles which they saw, grew by their frequency familiar unto them.” His pencil happened to cross only one word in the first line, and the next proof sent to the editorial room contained the passage, “The miracles which they grew by their frequency familiar unto them.”

These are a few instances of remissness on the part of readers, the last one showing absurdity that should be impossible. Some things are commonly expected of proof-readers that they can not with any reason be asked to do. When a person whose initials are J. J., for instance, writes them I. I., it is not reasonable to expect them to be printed J. J. A script I is one thing and a J is another; and no one can possibly know that the one which is written is not the right one when there is no clue, as there would be in Iohn. One lesson that writers seem bound not to learn is that proper names should be written plainly. When not written plainly they are very likely to be printed wrong.

Some kinds of changes proof-readers should not make, even if they think the writing is wrong. When a plainly written manuscript, showing care at all points, contains something about the “setting up of the first printing-press,” this should not be printed “setting-up of the first printing press”; neither should some one be changed to someone, though the barbarous someone happens to be the “style of the office.” There is no good reason for making a compound of setting up, and there is no reason for making anything but a compound of printing-press; and someone should certainly be removed from the “style of the office” and the correct some one substituted. These two examples are selected because they were convenient, not for criticism merely, but to enforce the fact that, at least in a book or any work not containing matter from various writers, carefully written manuscript should be followed in every respect. Some authors have in this matter a just cause of complaint against printers; but it is really the result of carelessness on the part of authors in not writing as their matter should be printed and insisting upon having what they want.