Prof. Bill Kovarik
Sourced Press
Oct 7 2023
Welcome everyone, welcome to the Wayzgoose
I hope all you printers’ devils here are minding your ps and qs, and by the same token, that you are not out of sorts, nor on the stick to finish your work. And if anyone here gets caught playing quadrats, and then resists a solace, look out! The spirit of the chapel will be looking to pie your type.
Of course, these printers’ terms may sound familiar, but they come from two centuries ago. They tell us what life was like in the chapel then, and why that’s important today.
First, a Wayzgoose is the traditional printer’s holiday at the end of summer. The name comes from a goose fed on the “wayz” — which is an old word for the stubble of a harvested field of grain. So it’s a harvest goose.
The Wayzgoose holiday kicks off the second half of the year — a time when daylight fades, and we have to light candles in the morning and evening in order to see our work.
We all know that minding your ps and qs simply means being polite, but back then, it meant being sure not to confuse similar-looking letters when you are setting type. And it also meant not letting the tavern keeper overcharge you for your pints and quarts.
Today, “by the same token” means that you’re talking about something similar, but back then, in a printing chapel, it meant that about 250 sheets of paper — a token or a ream — had to be printed on the other side.
Being out of sorts might mean being grumpy today, but did you know, the reason a printer might be grumpy could be that they had run out of sorted type to set. If printers were in a hurry, they might set type “on the stick” meaning that they didn’t write it out before they started setting type. You had to be in a big hurry to do that.
Quadrats is a game that printers played when they had a moment of idle time. The idea is to roll five or seven blank spacers, called quads, out on a composing table, and call how many would have their nicks facing up.
If the sexton of the chapel (the chief printer) caught anyone playing quadrats, he would give them a punishment, known as a solace. Usually this meant putting a few hours wages into the chapel beer fund, but if you had already spent your money, your type might get pied — that is, mixed up — and it might get blamed on the Spirit that guards your printing chapel.
His nick name was Ralph, by the way.
So why is this important? First, it shows how deep an impression printing made on our language, kind of like finding linguistic fossils in everyday talk.
Secondly, it tells us that printing was a culture, not just a job. It had its own ideals and myths and sly inside jokes.
As Beatrice Warde once said, a printing chapel is the crossroads of civilization, the refuge of all the arts against the ravages of time, and the armory of the fearless truth against whispering rumor.
Printing holds civilization together. Just as a life in a Medieval town was regulated by the ringing of bells to announce daily devotions — Matins, Prime, Vespers and Compline — Modern life was regulated by the printed word. Printers made calendars and almanacs; they print the laws for the legislatures and the house rules in the taverns; they put great ideas into everyone’s hands and handle everyone’s ideas, petty or great.
Printing is the lifeblood of democracy, the bridge between the medieval age of fear and superstition and the modern world, where we believe, or at least hope, that people can be ruled by reason.
So when printers devils go back to work, setting type, pounding ink, flying the brisket and pulling the devils tail, try to remember that they are not merely returning to a job. Remember that printers follow a higher purpose, that they advance a nobler enterprise.
Gentlemen — and ladies — with every line of type that is set, with every page that is printed, these printers’ devils are following the architecture of George Washington and Benjamin Franklin and building this free republic.
And one final word — It seems to me that printers’ devils are all bound like a book, in a brotherhood of purpose, of virtue and of service, and are bound no less than the great monks of the scriptoria of Europe, and far more than lucky enough to be engaged in our immortal trade.
Yes friends, you are among printers, and you are standing on sacred ground.
And on this wayzgoose, we raise a glass to all the printers’ devils, and to this printing chapel, and to all the children of Prometheus.
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