On Mon, 28 Mar 2005 21:55:09 -0500, Ph. D. <phild@...> wrote:

> Warning. This is off-topic, so everyone not interested (i.e. everyone
> except Nicholas Bodley) should delete now.

Just fine with me; "type metal" is the term, btw.

[nb]
>> I've set a very modest amount of type by hand, in a composing stick;
>> just a few lines. I know of the alloy as "type metal".

> The term used in the industry is "type metal." I have several machines
> for casting type including a Linotype and a Ludlow.

[nb: Why spaceband wedges don't leak]
> Because there are no empty spaces between the wedges. Each wedge is
> exactly vertical on the side next to the matrices. They are diagonal
> next to each other.

> [...] until Rogers noticed that his patent application for the spaceband
> had been filed one week before that of the Linotype machine, so he
> threatened to sue anyone who used spacebands on a Linotype. The Linotype
> company tried to come up with an alternative method of justification,
> but to no avail. Eventually they bought the Rogers company, and made
> Rogers their head engineer. (The International Printing Museum in Los
> Angeles, Calif. [not CA] has a Rogers Typograph on display.)

At least, Linotype had some decency, there.

Btw, distributing matrices (molds) in a Linotype involves binary coding.

> The Paige machine set and justified pre-cast pieces of type as an
> operator typed on a keyboard. A part of the mechanism also distributed
> the type for reuse after printing. The machine was incredibly
> complicated and prone to breaking down. It would have cost three times
> as much to manufacture as the recently introduced Linotype. Mark Twain
> lost his fortune investing in this machine. Only two were ever built....
SOem modern mecahanical engineering could improwe its reliability, but
that will never happen.

... One of them is on display in the Mark Twain house in Hartford, Conn.
(not CT).

Yippee! Another Qalamite for literate abbreviations!

> For a history of the Paige machine as well as a detailed description of
> how it worked, see Legros and Grant, "Typographical Printing Surfaces,"
> London, 1916.

*My*, do I appreciate that! Inter-library loan, just conceivably. Nice to
be near many colleges, universities, etc.

The patent for the Paige typsetter, for a long time, was the longest of
any. (163 pp.)

> The Monotype machine casts individual pieces of type for each letter and
> space. There is a separate machine with a keyboard which punches a wide
> paper tape. Each character used in a font has a width which is some
> multiple of 1/18 of the point size.

Do you remember any particulars about the number of channels in the tape?
Width?

The early IBM prop.-spacing typewriter (three-wheel rotary escapement)
which I once owned was based, I'm fairly sure, on 18 units max.; the
narrowest chars. were two units. (Escapement, also an horological term,
is the mechanism that lets the carriage jump for the next letter.)

> As the operator types, the machine keeps a mechanical tally of the total
> "units." When the operator nears the end of the line, he looks at a dial
> which tells him how many units each space in the line must be for a
> justified line. He then presses one of fifteen special keys which punch
> that number into the paper tape.

Interesting.

Friden made a pair of Flexowriters, the composer, and the [typesetter].
Collectively, they were referred to as the Justowriter. Both were
essentially truly-rugged electric typewriters (innards nothing like the
Selectric, except for encoding into binary). The operator typed on the
composer, which punched a tape; the tape went to the [typesetter]
("reproducer"? I have forgotten), which produced justified copy. Tape was
one of the standard widths, one inch wide or less. Afaik, the
[typesetter]'s keyboard was not often used.

In the composer, a light went on when the line, as typed, was long enough
to be justified. Simply poking Return started a sequence of events. First,
some sensing fingers moved forward to feel for holes and no-holes in code
plates on the back of the carriage. These fingers picked up a code to
punch into the tape to define how much to stretch word spaces. Once the
code was punched, the fingers retracted, and the carriage returned.

The [typesetter] had a double reader; the tape passed through one read
head, then the other. The tape moved toward the front. As well as I can
remember, the rear reader kept advancing tape (creating a loop) until it
found the justifying code. Meanwhile, the front reader stalled before
reading any text, waiting for the rear reader.

Once the justification code was found, it probably was stored in relays in
the machine, which expanded the word spaces as required, and the rear
reader probably re-started, looking for the next justification code. Each
escape wheel had its own magnet, although the typing mechanism actually
operated the selected wheels.

The available type faces for Flexowriters were very good designs, and the
Justowriter could create some very respectable-looking text.
Of course, being a typewriter, the [typesetter] machine had a fixed face.

> The casting machine reads the tape in backwards, so it knows before each
> line how many units to use for the width of spaces.

Interesting! No double reader.

A rare Justowriter (Model LCC, for "line casting control" was the composer
for tape-controlled line-casting machines. It had some uncommonly-fine
unit spacing; have forgotten utterly how many units/em, but it must have
been a lot. In addition to capturing text onto tape, it had a light that
went on to show that the line, as typed, was long enough to be justified.
It had a very strong carriage pull, and a gearbox between the carriage and
the rotary escapement. Its margin stop was a special clamp that gripped
extra tightly, and the margin rack had uncommonly-fine teeth.

>> As well, my apologies to all who don't give a hoot about technological
>> philosophy.

> My apologies as well.

Would love to know more about the Hammond typewriter's mechanism.

--
Nicholas Bodley /*|*\ Waltham, Mass. (Not "MA")
The curious hermit -- autodidact and polymath