The Far Horizon by Gretta Curran Browne Page B

instructions.’
    ‘Oh for goodness sake,’ Lachlan replied impatiently. ‘Why else do we have a newspaper if not to use it to inform the inhabitants of what needs to be done? Surely it’s not mere gossip he wants to print?’
    ‘Yes, gossip is what he wants to print,’ George said, ‘because he says this colony thrives on gossip. Taking away their gossip, he says, is like taking away their food.’

Chapter Ten
    In the shabby printing office of Sydney's Gazette newspaper, Mr George Howe, the paper's editor and printer – better known to one and all as ‘ Happy Howe ' – felt himself sinking with fatigue under the pile of proclamations that the new Viceroy wanted printed for the benefit of the population.
    And Happy Howe was not the only one sinking under the weight: his beloved printing press was also creaking towards a collapse.
    Happy finally put on his hat and set out boldly for Government House to lay his problems directly before the colony’s new ruler.
    It's my printing press, Your Excellency,’ Happy said glumly. ‘She's old and infirm, d'you see? Not up to running with the energy of a youngster anymore.’
    Lachlan's immediate response was curiosity. ‘May I come and take a look at it, Mr Howe? Your printing press?’
    Happy Howe was utterly taken aback. No Viceroy had ever visited the office of the Gazette before. He paused, not sure if he liked the idea. A printer's press was like his beloved, something he cherished and something he didn't like other men touching. But how could he refuse the new governor of the settlement?
    Half an hour later Lachlan was running a finger over the old printing press and examining it carefully. ‘Oh, yes, I see what you mean, Mr Howe.’
    Happy nodded glumly. ‘She's a good old thing. Never lets me down. But she's been here almost as long as myself, since Governor Phillip's day, and she can't cope with modern times no more. Not now Sydney needs all these new rules and proclamations.’
    Lachlan considered. ‘You need a new one.’
    Happy sighed, blinked his eyes rapidly. ‘A new one, Your Excellency? A new printing press?' He sighed again, stirred the papers on his desk, hummed a sob under his breath, and swallowed emotionally at the very idea.
    Lachlan was highly amused by the expressions on Howe's face.
    ‘Smile if you will, Governor Macquarie, smile if you must, but the sad fact is that the Gazette cannot afford a new printing press.’
    ‘Then we shall just have to pay for it out of the public purse,’ Lachlan decided. ‘If the Gazette is to be the government's main line of communication to the people, then the government must financially support it.’
    Happy's usual glum expression changed to one of stupefaction, his blue eyes staring with incredulity as Governor Macquarie sat down at the desk, lifted a quill, dipped it in ink and began to jot down notes for the order of a new printing press which would be immediately dispatched to England.
    ‘One printing press … ’ Lachlan said as he wrote, and then looked up at the publisher questioningly.
    ‘With three composing sticks,’ said Happy in a shaking voice, ‘two of common length, with fourteen lines Long Primer...’
    Happy couldn't believe this was happening. ‘Governor Macquarie … are you sure you have not lost your wits?’
    Quite sure,’ Lachlan said as he wrote; then again looked at Howe questioningly.
    ‘And 400 weight of Long Primer, with a double comp of Capitals,’ added Happy. ‘I've become very addicted to Capitals,’ he confessed.
    ‘Personally, I rather like italics,’ Lachlan replied. ‘Italics are far more impressive, do you not agree?’
    ‘ Italics !’ Happy sang ebulliently, holding up his palms in worship. ‘Oh, sir, italics are the very art of the printer! The sheer force of drama on the printed page! Many's the night I've actually dreamed in italics ... but not having any, I'm forced to come down to earth and make my point in Capitals.’
    ‘Then we shall make even