d as if it were a typewriter. As he touched each
key, it released a letter, and at the back of the machine Paul could see
the silvery gleam as the miniature bar of metal dropped down and slipped
into its place in the lengthening series of words. As soon as the row
increased to line length, it moved along and a new line of words was
assembled. The process was fascinating and the boy watched it
spellbound.

"That's corking!" he at last burst out.

"It is a marvelous invention, certainly," responded Mr. Hawley,
delighted by the enthusiasm of the _March Hare's_ editor.

"What metal is used for casting type?" inquired Paul suddenly. "It looks
like lead."

"It is not pure lead," Mr. Hawley answered. "That metal has been found
to be much too soft; it soon wears down and loses its outline and its
sharp edges. So an alloy of antimony is mixed with the lead and a
composition is made that is harder and more durable."

"It must be quite a stunt to get the mixture just right," remarked Paul.

Again the newspaper man smiled with pleasure. It was a satisfaction to
have so intelligent an audience.

"You have put your finger on a very important feature of the newspaper
business," he rejoined. "The man who prepares the metal solution and
keeps it at just the proper degree of temperature for casting is the
person to whom the printer owes no small measure of his success. When we
go downstairs, we shall see how the forms that are set here are cast in
two large metal sections that fit on the two halves of the cylindrical
rollers of the press. A mold of the form is first made from a peculiar
kind of cardboard, a sort of _papier-mache_, and by forcing hot metal
into this mold a cast, or stereotype, of the page is taken. It is from
this metal stereotype that the paper is printed. After the two sections
are fastened securely upon the cylinders and inked by machinery, the
great webs of paper at either end of the press unroll, and as they move
over the rapidly turning wheels, your daily newspaper is printed for
you."

"Are we going to see it done?" asked Paul eagerly.

"We certainly are," said Mr. Hawley, leading the way toward the
elevator.

"Of course the compositors have to be very sure before the forms go to
the stereotype casting room that there are no mistakes in them, I
suppose," Paul ventured thoughtfully.

"Yes. There is no correcting the stereotype after it is once made,"
replied Mr. Hawley. "Everything is corrected and any