PRACTICAL knowledge and ability in making up book-work are acquirable only through experience. The process might be clearly described in all its details, covering the entire range from the simplest page, of a certain number of lines all of the same type, to the most complicated congeries of different-sized type and small cuts, tables, or anything else, and yet the closest student of the description would never know how to do the work properly until he had done some of it. What is meant by this may be elucidated by means of a story of personal happening, though not dealing with any attempt at written instructions, but rather with assumption from observation, and possibly some little previous experience, on the part of a compositor.

Some time ago I was foreman and proof-reader of the book-room of a large jobbing establishment in New York. Having a large pamphlet in hand, with three sizes of type, including a number of tables, and to be printed from the type, the make-up was left till the last, as a separate and special piece of work. Among the compositors were two with whom I had been associated more or less for years, so that I knew their capabilities. One of these two was first out of copy at the end of the job, so that, all things being equal, the make-up should have gone to him. All things not being considered equal, the make-up was reserved for the other of the two mentioned, who was not ready for it until most of the men had been told there was no more work for them just then. My old acquaintance who had been passed by said nothing at the time, but went out and fortified himself with fire-water and came back, accompanied by one of the prominent union politicians, to “make a kick.” His argument was that, as he was out of copy first, he was entitled to the making-up work, which was admitted, with the qualification that the office was entitled to my best effort to have the work done right, and so the man thought best able to do it was the only one to whom it could be given conscientiously, notwithstanding our recognition of the union, with all that that implied. This was met with a contemptuous sneer at the idea that anything so simple as the make-up should be kept for a certain man at the expense of another. “What one man can do another can,” said the slighted one; and thereby he exposed the weakness of his position, for many men can do even the simplest work much better than many other men. “Making up!” he exclaimed; “putting in a lead, and taking out a lead, and tying a string around the page! Making up!”

Well, is making up anything more than this man said it was? Possibly not, except that there is a right way to do these things, and there are many wrong ways. Besides, the greatest objection in the case given was the man’s known inexperience of imposition. That objection would apply comparatively seldom now, as letterpress printing is done much less than it was. Still, practical knowledge of imposition is really as necessary now to the fully competent compositor as it ever was, for with it he is enabled to undertake work that otherwise he can not do.

Before the making up is begun the size of the page must be determined. There is not and can not be any general rule for proportions, since commonly many circumstances must be considered of which the maker-up knows nothing, and frequently he must simply follow the directions of the foreman. One thing, however, the wise maker-up can always regulate. He should see that his page is exactly gauged to a certain number of lines of the type most used in the text, since that is the only sure guide to uniformity of length in the pages. It is not likely that any foreman will ever object to a slight change in the gauge for this purpose, if it happens that he has made or ordered one that does not conform to it.

Positive directions for determining the size of a page have been published, but I know of none that will properly apply in all cases, notwithstanding their positiveness of expression. Following is what Marshall T. Bigelow says in his “Handbook of Punctuation”: “In determining the form of a page of an oblong shape, whatever its size, a certain proportion should always be maintained. The diagonal measure of a page from the folio in the upper corner to the opposite lower corner should be just twice the width of the page. This is no arbitrary technical rule, but is in conformity to the law of proportion establishing the line of beauty; it applies equally to all objects of similar shape, and satisfies the eye completely. A long brick-shaped page or book will not look well, however nicely it may be printed. When we come to a quarto or square page, the true proportion of the diagonal to the width will be found to be as 10½ : 6¼—the size of a good-shaped quarto—instead of 2 : 1, as in the oblong, or octavo. And this shape also proves as satisfactory to the eye as the former one. However large or small the page may be, these proportions should be maintained for a handsome book.” These proportions are maintained in the book from which we quote, but its pages would have been much better in shape a little narrower and a little shorter. Many handsomer books have pages that do not conform to Mr. Bigelow’s rule, though the proportions given by him are good as a general guide. A “Printers’ Grammar” published in 1808 has “a long brick-shaped page,” and is a good-looking book. It says: “Should the length of the page be left to the discretion of the compositor, he sets so many lines as he conceives a fair proportion, which is generally considered as double its width.” The page in which this is printed is not quite twice as long as its width, yet it is exceptionally long for its width, judged either by other books of its own time or by later books.

If the size of the page is not dictated by the customer—very often he will indicate it by means of some book whose size suits him—the foreman or employer will be guided by the size of the sheet and the amount of matter. Of course everybody knows this, but it is a part of the proceeding that it may be well to mention, and that may be dismissed after remarking that the length of the page should usually be such as to leave the margins nearly equal.

Practice varies somewhat as to the length of title-pages, some being sunk a little from the top, some a little shorter and some a little longer than the other pages. Ordinarily they should be exactly the same as other pages in length. The usual title-page gains nothing by either shortening or lengthening. There being differences of opinion in this respect, however, compositor and proof-reader should learn what is wanted in the office where they are employed and act accordingly.

When very little matter is to occupy a page by itself, as bastard titles, copyrights, dedications, etc., the matter should stand a little above the middle of the page. Practice differs here also, some books having such pages exactly centered, and some having them placed almost two-thirds of the way up. One of the best of the old-time New York offices had a rule that a copyright, bastard title, or anything of that kind should have just twice as much blank below as there was above. All such pages in their books looked inartistic, because of such misplacing of the matter, though otherwise the taste shown was excellent. The effect generally desired is that such matter should appear at a glance to be in the center of the page, and this effect is better produced by placing the matter actually a little higher up, but only a little.

The sinkage of chapter-heading and similar pages is a matter not often treated in books, and for which there is no fixed rule. Here, again, Mr. Bigelow comes near to stating the best practice, though circumstances often necessitate differences, and tastes differ, so that it may easily happen that a customer will order a sinkage not in keeping with Mr. Bigelow’s rule, which is: “The first page of the text of a book should have about two-thirds of the matter of a full page. Where chapters or other divisions occur, a uniform sinkage of the same division should be kept up through the book. In poetry this should be done as nearly as possible; but allowance may be made for the different stanzas which occur, so that they may be divided properly. A useless repetition of a half-title over the first page following should be avoided.” There are things in this that I can not understand. What does the last sentence mean? What is the exact intention of the sentence about poetry? But the prescription of uniform sinkage is good, and for the commonest sizes of pages the proportion given for the first page is about right. For a chapter-heading elsewhere in the book the same sinkage as the actual blank at the top of the first page should be used.

There are other points about the make-up of books that every compositor and proof-reader should know, but they hardly come into question, being always treated alike by all people concerned, and will be learned in the right way only through actual experience.