The item predicted that Wilbur Cowan, son of our fellow townsman, Dave Cowan, would soon become one of the swiftest of compositors.
This summer he not only inked the forms on Wednesday, but he was permitted to operate the job press.

You stood before this and turned a large wheel at the left to start it, after which you kept it going with one foot on a treadle.

Then rhythmically the press opened wide its maw and you took out the printed card or small bill and put in another before the jaws closed down.

It was especially thrilling, because if you should keep your hand in there until the jaws closed you wouldn't have it any longer.
But there was disquieting news about the loose trade he intended to follow.

A new printer brought this.